Not Quite Crazy
Page 15

“I got ’em,” Owen said as he walked back into the room. He set the boxes down by the door and reached for his coat. “I can help.”
“Okay, then. Let’s get this done.” Jason glanced at Rachel, flashed what he hoped was a charming grin, and turned back outside.
Owen was a great assistant. He stood at the foot of the ladder and handed Jason what he needed as they inched along the eaves, tacking in the hooks.
“This is the first time I’ve hung lights outside,” Owen told him.
“How is that?”
“My mom and I always lived in a condo.”
Jason took note of the fact that the kid didn’t mention a dad. He tacked in a hook. “Rachel said it was cancer.”
“Yeah.”
Jason looked down at Owen. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I try not to think about it.”
“How is that working out?”
Owen gave a partial smile. “Not very well.”
Jason turned back to the eaves, pounded another nail. “I lost my mom, too.”
“Really?”
“Plane crash. Both her and my dad on the same day.”
“That bites. Were you young like me?”
Jason stepped down from the ladder, moved over a few feet as they spoke. “No. I was an adult. Still, they were young.”
“Yeah, it’s never good. I mean, unless they’re really old and stuff. Even then I bet it sucks.” Owen handed him another hook and nail.
“It’s good you have Rachel.”
The mention of her name had Owen clamming up.
“Did she really hit her head with a door?”
Owen laughed.
Jason took that as a yes.
“It’s probably a good thing I’m up here on the ladder, then.”
“She’d probably break a leg,” Owen said.
Jason opened his mouth to comment, and closed it when the front door opened and the woman in question emerged.
He and Owen both kept silent.
“How’s it going?”
“Almost done with these.”
Owen shined a flashlight up on the last four feet.
“You know, you really didn’t have to do this,” Rachel told him. “I could have managed.”
Jason looked at the fading bruise she tried to hide with makeup. “How’s your eye?”
“That was an accident.”
He turned to place the last hook in before descending off the ladder. “Time for the lights, Owen.”
The strands were plugged in at the power source on the side of the garage. It appeared that the previous owners had purposely placed the plug up at the eaves for the sole purpose of holiday lighting. Jason imagined how many years of struggling they’d managed to skip when it came to stringing extension cords and making lights look right in places you didn’t want them. He wondered if his house had the same thing. A crew of half a dozen men put the lights up at the estate, so he didn’t know.
The brand-new, multicolored lights were perfectly balanced from the west side of the house to the east. The second story had dormers over the windows that Owen said they hadn’t accounted for when buying lights. Still, once they were up and the timer was set to go on and off, Jason stepped away from the ladder one last time to see his work.
Rachel and Owen were standing at the edge of the lawn, taking it all in with soft smiles.
“I like,” Rachel said.
“Looks good.”
“Not bad,” Jason said. “I bet we could squeeze a couple more strands up by those windows.”
Rachel shook her head. “No, that’s okay—”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Owen interrupted.
“I’ll be back on Friday, then.” Jason ignored the glare from Rachel as he smiled at Owen.
“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your busy schedule,” Rachel told him. “If you leave the ladder, I can take care of it.”
Jason lifted an eyebrow. “She who dances with doors should probably stay away from heights.”
Owen laughed out loud.
“Says the man who drove himself into a ditch,” Rachel said with a tiny grin.
“I would feel responsible if you got hurt.”
“I would feel guilty for monopolizing all your valuable time.”
Jason glanced at Owen. “Don’t you have a new job?” he asked Rachel, assuming she hadn’t told Owen about Jason owning the company.
“I do.” Her eyes shifted to Owen, then back.
“If you got hurt and had to miss work, wouldn’t that impact your new position?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Probably.”
Jason smiled, rolled his shoulders back. “Then you’re in luck. Because I’ve had my job for some time, and if I get hurt, I still get a paycheck. So I’ll be back Friday, or better yet, Saturday morning, while it’s still light out.”
They stared at each other, neither backing down.
“Great, now can we go get the tree?” Owen asked. “I’m freezing out here.”
Rachel looked away first. “Fine. Let me get my purse.”
Dances with doors! Who said things like that? In search of hot chocolate, Owen broke away from them once they hit the tree lot. “What about we shouldn’t date did you misunderstand?”
Jason kept his eyes forward. “If we were dating, I’d be holding your hand.”
Rachel glanced at her hand swinging beside his. When was the last time she’d held a man’s hand?
“I’m sure you have better things to do on a Saturday morning than hanging more Christmas lights.”
“You’re right.”
“Ha!” Maybe he was seeing his way to her point of view.
“I could be taking the beautiful new woman in my life out for brunch, or maybe dinner. But since she’s playing hard to get, I have to settle for hanging her Christmas lights instead.”
Maybe not.
“Jason!”
He stopped at a twelve-foot noble fir. “This one’s nice.”
“I have ten-foot ceilings.”
“That might prove tight.” He moved across the aisle to the shorter trees.
“I’m not going to date you.”
His eyes told her he wasn’t convinced. “Fine.”
“I need this job.”
“You’ve told me that.”
“I mean it, for better or for worse, Owen and I need to stay here until he turns eighteen.”
“Why is that, exactly? Was it something his mother wanted?”
“No, Em wouldn’t want us anywhere near here.”
Jason stopped looking at trees. “I don’t understand.”
Rachel looked over her shoulder, then back. “It’s complicated. If Owen walks up, I’m dropping the subject.”
Jason glanced around, didn’t see Owen. “Fair enough.”
“Owen’s paternal grandparents live close by. They haven’t had a relationship with Owen at all.” She glanced up, then moved closer and lowered her voice. “When Emily died, she had made it clear I was to be Owen’s guardian. But the Colemans thought differently.”
“Owen’s grandparents.”
“Right. They immediately hired lawyers. I knew ultimately they could win, especially when they said they were going to get Owen’s father involved.”
“Does Owen know his dad?”
“Barely.” She looked up, stiffened. “There is more to the story that has to wait. Bottom line, we’re here to avoid a battle I would lose. And I can’t afford to live here without my job.”