Midnight Valentine

37

12

I awaken to what sounds like a herd of bulls stampeding through my living room.

Squinting into the morning light flooding my bedroom, I sit up in bed and listen. I’m disoriented, but not alarmed. I have neither the energy nor the presence of mind to be alarmed this morning. I spent the hours after Theo left in an intimate relationship with the bottle of whiskey, the remains of which are now perfuming my breath. It’s a good thing there aren’t any open flames nearby, or I’d be toast.

Flames—right. That herd downstairs must be Theo and his team.

The clock on the bedside table tells me it’s precisely eight o’clock. I guess Theo took my direction of “first thing in the morning” literally.

I drag myself out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom, snorting when I glimpse myself in the mirror. I look like a prehistoric cave woman who spent a long night losing a battle with a woolly mammoth. I need a shower and about a gallon of coffee if I’m even going to resemble a human.

But first I need to check on the herd.

I go to the top of the stairs and holler down, “Theo!”

Thump, thump, thump, then he appears, wearing boots, faded jeans, and a long-sleeved T-shirt, this one black. He lifts his brows when he catches sight of me.

“Put a sock in it, Sunshine,” I grumble. “Some of us had a rough night.”

I must be getting better at reading his expressions, because this one distinctly says, I can see that. How he looks so fresh and perky is beyond me, considering he probably got as little sleep as I did.

“I see you let yourself in. Glad you feel so at home.”

He c***s his head at my sarcastic tone, then makes a turning motion with his hand.

“Right,” I say. “The front door is missing a doorknob. Funny thing how when someone kicks in a door, these little mishaps occur.”

Then he makes a stabbing motion with his finger, cups his hand around his ear, and shakes his head.

“Yes, Theo, I realize my doorbell isn’t working either. But there’s this thing called knocking? Here, let me show you.”

I demonstrate a proper knock, rapping my knuckles theatrically on the wood banister so it echoes nice and loudly through the room.

Theo rolls his eyes. Then he presses his hands together in a praying position, rests them against his cheek, closes his eyes, and exhales an exaggerated breath through his mouth so his lips flap unattractively, like a cartoon character’s.

“I wasn’t snoring!” I say defensively, embarrassed because I probably was. Cass used to tell me I could wake the dead with the racket I made after I’d had a few drinks in me.

Grinning, Theo lifts his hands in surrender. Through my embarrassment, I find myself grinning back. Though rare, his smiles are infectious. Hopefully, now that he’s getting what he wants and is working on the house, they’ll appear with greater frequency.

I’m not holding my breath, but one can hope.

“I’m going to take a shower. You guys good for half an hour or so without me?”

Theo nods, waving dismissively. Apparently finished with the conversation, he strides off without waiting for me to say anything else.

“And a good morning to you too, Sunshine.” I listen to the thump of his boots recede toward the back of the house. For some reason, I find the sound comforting.

Because you haven’t had a man around in a hundred years, girlfriend.

Under my breath, I tell my uterus to shut the hell up. Then I head back upstairs to the shower.

* * *

“There she is!” Straightening from his inspection of a hole the firefighters punched in the baseboard of the living room, Coop beams at me like I’m his long-lost sister. He’s wearing a red-and-black flannel shirt rolled up his thick forearms along with a pair of dungarees. His resemblance to a lumberjack is uncanny. “How’re you doin’, Megan? Happy to see me?”

“Gee, everyone’s in such a chipper mood this morning,” I quip, trying to keep a straight face. I’m the boss here, after all. I can’t let all these big, burly men think they can get the upper hand on me by acting like some giggly teenager. “Theo actually smiled at me earlier. Did you guys smoke some dope before coming to work?”

“Naw, it’s just a beautiful mornin’ is all!” He props his hands on his hips and looks me up and down. “And you look prettier’n a new set of snow tires, if I might say so.”

Blushing, I run a hand over my damp hair and look down at my jeans and blue sweater. “I’ve never seen snow tires, but I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

“Never seen snow tires?” He looks horrified, as if I’ve just told him my parents were siblings. “Where’d you grow up, the moon?”

“The desert, actually. Before here, I never lived anywhere but Phoenix.”

Coop thoughtfully rubs his beard. “Been to Phoenix once. Hot as hell and dry as a nun’s cooch.”

“Thank you for that disturbing visual. Is there some paperwork I need to sign? A scope of work or whatever?”

“Yeah, Theo’s got the contract all worked up. He left it on the kitchen counter for you.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I turn to head into the kitchen, but Coop says, “Megan?”

I turn back. “Yeah?”

He hesitates for a moment. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For this.” He gestures to the house. “For givin’ Theo a shot. He really needed it.”

“Needed what? I’m not sure what you mean.”