Page 74 of Really Truly Yours

She clenches the fists at her waist. “Stay out of my business, Grayson.”

“Gray.”

“Grayson.”

I roll my eyes. “Is this about money? Because that isn’t a problem. Bill—”

“Is your contractor, not mine.”

“Sydnee—”

“Grayson.”

This woman… “Can your brother fix it?”

“Who says I can’t?”

I don’t mean for the sound I make to be condescending, but the lady could blow away in a strong wind, and if she could fix it, I’m assuming she already would have. Her glare, on the other hand, is something to reckon with.

I stare pointedly at the gaping wound in the ceiling. “I sure hope a rat doesn’t drop down and cuddle up with you tonight.”

Her visible shivers tweak my conscience. “You’re saying I have rats?”

“Donny had a bunch.”

Her cute nose curls.

“Come on. Bill can tack the work onto Donny’s stuff.”

Sighing, she huddles into her arms. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“First the groceries. Now this.”

I hook my thumb on a belt loop. “It’s not a big deal, Sydnee.”

“It is to me!” She snaps back, hard.

“Well, it shouldn’t be. I only want to help.”

“I am not a charity case, Grayson. I do not need your help.”

I spike an eyebrow at the hole. “You sure need something.”

“You’re...insulting.”

“I don’t see how.”

“I’m practically a stranger, yet you offer to pay to fix my roof?” Mistrust, like, for-real suspicion, shadows her eyes. “Are you angling for something?”

Angling? What could I possibly be angling…ohh.

I move in until I see the whites of her eyes. She edges toward the wall. Yep, that’s precisely what she’s suggesting.

What have I ever done to warrant an accusation like that?

My jaw locks up. Oh, I could say something here, something worthy of the lowdown, unfounded implication. I’m a guy, and, like most men, there is usually something crass that tries to worm its way out in moments like this, moments when righteous anger courses through me. I would never…what would make her even go there!