Page 2 of Redeem

I dug in, felt my muscles strain as I struggled to control the cart, then felt a tiny bit of triumph when I reached the truck.

Not bad, even if I said so myself. Now to get it inside.

I stared at stacked sheets of wood, paced slowly as I considered the best approach. This was one of those oh-so-rare moments when my mind was completely focused. I loved this work for just that reason. Doing this, trying to solve a problem that seemed beyond my physical capabilities, was the only time my mind was quiet. So I concentrated on that.

The wood wasn’t that heavy, but the size and shape of the sheets would make it difficult for me to lift. But I could leverage them. I wrapped a bungee cord around one of the sheets and then hoisted myself onto the back of the truck. I kneeled, certain that if I could angle the sheet just right, I could slide it into place.

I lifted, pulled, and felt immense satisfaction when the wood started to give, felt even more when it fell into place. By the time I was finished, I’d started to sweat and the muscles in my arms started to tremble.

Only thirteen to go.

I jumped down, wrapped the bungee cord around the next sheet, and got back into the bed of the truck and braced myself.

This time, the wood gave with no effort at all. I let go, shocked when the wood moved without me.

That shock intensified when I looked at the strong, thick-fingered hand that pushed the wood into place. My gaze moved up thick, corded forearms, granite-looking biceps, muscled shoulders, to stop on the vicious scar that ran down his neck. For a moment I stayed there, mind spinning as I stared at the scar, trying to process this new presence, what he was doing there.

I kept my eyes on that scar, and then, after a breath, looked up.

The spinning in my mind stopped.

When I looked at him, everything stopped.

My eyes were locked with his, and I stood unmoving, unbreathing, in the grips of a feeling that I couldn’t quite describe. Whatever it was, though, I’d never felt anything like it, had never experienced what I was experiencing when I looked at this man.

Somehow I found the strength to break his gaze, a good thing since I feared I would have lost myself in the depths of his dark eyes.

“Thank y—”

My words were cut off as he moved to lift yet another sheet and place it on the back of the truck. Whatever affliction I suffered from, he did not, and as I stood, dumbstruck, he moved with impressive efficiency and soon had placed all of the sheets on the truck bed.

When he finished, he looked at me again, and I was again sucked into his gaze. Of their own volition, my eyes moved down, snagged on the full firmness of his lips, and I quickly looked lower, again resting on his scar. That was probably rude, it was definitely rude, but I had no other choice. The way my heart thudded, the tightness that squeezed my throat made looking anywhere else impossible.

“Do you need help unloading it?”

The soft, deep voice startled me, and on instinct, I looked at his eyes, instantly dropped my gaze again. Without thinking, I nodded, jumped off the truck, and made my way to the driver’s side. I looked back, watched him as he pushed the cart away and then hopped on the back of the truck.

What the fuck was I doing?

Even as I pulled out of the parking space, I had no idea.

Two

Dana

As I drove, I thought about what had made me act so impulsively.

Yeah, getting the wood out once I got home would have been tough, but I could have done it. I didn’t need help, had done all I could to make it so that I didn’t need anyone. Not ever. I’d learned the cost of needing people, relying on them. It had been an excruciating lesson, one I would not let myself forget.

While this thing with the wood was small in the grand scheme, the principle was the same. Small and large, I had suffered greatly from the reliance on others, so I avoided that as much as I could.

That avoidance was part of the reason I was so fanatical about the house. It was going to be mine. My place, made by me, for me, where I could be alone. Which made my earlier behavior at the store even more confusing.

I glanced in the rearview mirror, saw him sitting there, studied him, his exterior calm, though I sensed there was more to him than that.

The way he had approached me at the hardware store had been effective.

If he’d asked, given me time to consider, I would have been able to ignore him without a second thought. But what he had done, helping me as he had without asking had left me flat-footed to remember I didn’t want or need anyone’s help.