Liam had departed without fanfare. His lease was up, the sabbatical was over, and an ill-timed text from Cassidy reminded Anna another woman had dibs on his attention once his plane landed on the opposite coast.
She channeled her loss and longing into the house project. Boxed-up kitchen supplies waited by the side door for the short trip to the storage pod. The second bedroom, once the kids’ domain and scheduled to become her art studio, was lined up in her crosshairs. She managed to sort the accumulated toys and gear in one four-hour stint. Another set of strong arms was needed to take apart the bunk beds and move the mattresses to the storage pod. Late in the afternoon, while walking the ambit of her property, she found it impossible to avoid looking in the direction of the MacMasters’ empty cottage.
When she forced herself to stay on task and look elsewhere, trees with branches in need of trimming before winter came into focus, and when the lens widened, it appeared her entire yard was begging for an overdue seasonal clean up. She could hire high schoolers for the yardwork, but she would have to schedule a professional for the trees.
Anna called Elaine’s lover, Richie. He was finishing with his morning client and bumped her to the top of his list. It helped she was best friends with the woman he was happy to have in his bed and in his life.
“You’ve got a lot of branches needing a good trim,” he said after quickly assessing her property.
“Do you need to call anyone to assist you?” Anna asked. She couldn’t picture how he was going to manage the higher branches on his own.
“I would if we were topping any of the big firs or taking them down, but I don’t see anything in risk of falling over.” He walked to the back of his truck and assembled his gear. “You want me to split anything usable to fit your woodstove?”
“That would be great, Richie. I could use some kindling too.”
“Sure. Easy enough to take care of that while I’m here.” He finished strapping a heavy-looking apparatus around his hips and shouldered the smaller of two chainsaws.
The large windows in her living room gave Anna a one-hundred-eighty-degree view of Richie’s handiwork. He took to the first tree with ease. There was something decidedly erotic about watching a well-muscled man straddle a tree.
“Richie’s here, up a tree,” she texted Elaine, “I see why you like his a**.”
“HANDS OFF!”
“But I’m paying for this…”
“And I get it for free.”
Elaine could coax a smile out of Anna even in the challenging times. With Richie outside sawing and chopping, her day had a soothing, almost musical accompaniment. She inserted a new roll of packing tape in the handheld dispenser and folded and taped enough boxes to hold the contents of the guest room closet.
Banging at her door pulled her away halfway through the task.
“Could I trouble you for some water?” Flecks of pungent wood chips littered Richie’s beard and shirt from his shoulders down his chest. His heavy, steel-toed boots and the belt at his hips gave him a rugged swagger Anna could appreciate.
She headed into the kitchen. “Of course. Can I make a sandwich for you or anything?”
“That’d be great, actually. I came right over when I got your call, and I didn’t pack a lunch today.” He downed the glass of water and a second. “I have another half hour in this one tree. Then I’ll be ready for a break. And I’ll eat anything you’re serving up.”
“Does Elaine know what a flirt you are?” She’d never been one for men with beards, but the auburn-tinged scruff Liam sported after his camping trip had introduced her inner thighs to a new realm of delights. The thickness of Richie’s beard had her wondering if she should ask Elaine her thoughts on the subject.
Richie grinned and stood a little taller. “It’s one of the things she likes most about me. And she also knows I’m a one-woman man.”
“Can I ask you something?” Anna asked later when Richie had finished his first sandwich and was preparing to demolish the second one she placed on his plate.
“Fire away.”
“What attracts you to an older woman like Elaine?” She poked at the pickle slices floundering at the bottom of the wide-mouthed jar.
The flush of outdoor exertion colored Richie’s cheeks. Her question deepened the rosy pink to an apple-red. “I’m happy to answer that, especially if you’ve got all day, but first I’d like to know why you’re asking.”
“Because I met a man a couple months ago, and we ended up having a thing, and now he’s gone, and I miss him. I really, really miss him.”
“Have you told him that?”
She shook her head and maneuvered the stack of pickles onto her plate.
“Well, here’s the thing with me and Elaine. She is so damn confident, and I’ve discovered confidence is a turn on. She knows who she is and what she wants, and there’s no drama.” He popped a handful of potato chips into his mouth and chewed, while Anna finished her rolled-up slices of ham and cheese.
Confidence. Hmm. She’d have to ponder where she stood on the confidence scale. Depended on the situation.
“And I’m talking in bed,” he continued, “and out of bed. I’ve had my share of lovers and a couple of long-term relationships, but this thing with Elaine feels different.”
“Do you want kids?”
“I’m one of five, and I have nieces and nephews out the wazoo. I love my family, and I love my solitude, and no, I’m not thinking about kids.” He chuckled as he finished the last sandwich half in two bites, swallowed, and wiped his mouth. “What about this guy you were with—does he want kids? Is that the problem?”
Anna pondered the question and shredded a paper towel before she tried to answer. “I don’t think kids are a priority with
