Done (Harmony Haven #1)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

JESSE

Mrs. Ellison sat her empty coffee cup down and stood, walking herself to the door. She had shown up first thing, asking if I’d like to have another chat, and I couldn’t say no. As much as I hated talking to anyone before coffee, there was something nice about getting to know more about my neighbor—a former school teacher who lost her husband and missed her kids.

“I won’t bother you tomorrow,” she laughed. “I promise.”

“Oh you’re no bother. I love hearing stories about you and Mr. Ellison.”

“It’s just so nice talking about him. Memories are all I have left, and I’m thankful to have them.” She opened the door and turned back, a twisted gleam in her eye. “Easton Brooks is here again. Are you two…?”

“What? No!” I stood and joined her at the door, watching Easton unloading some tools from the back of his truck. “He’s just doing some work to the house. His brother owns this house, ya know?”

“Oh, I know,” she smirked. “I know all about those Brooks boys.”

If she knew all about them, then we definitely needed to chat again, because I was intrigued. I had spent almost the entire night looking them up on the internet, only finding articles about the rich oldest brother, Westley. I tried to rationalize that it was okay, because I had a right to know who owned my home, and what his brother had to do with it. Other than confirming who owned the home and that they knew who Easton was, the rental company didn’t tell me anything else.

Even though I had agreed to let Easton fix the fence, I was still wary. He was a stranger, and I was in a new town. It would be just my luck to survive the big city my entire life without an incident and then be tied up in a basement a few weeks after moving to Harmony Haven.

“Don’t run her out of town,” Ms. Ellison yelled and waved at Easton. I stepped onto the porch, just as Easton smiled and opened his arms up, embracing the old woman as if he had known her for years.

“I’d never!” He laughed, then let her go. “But don’t tell her too many stories about me, either. That’ll make her run for sure.”

Ms. Ellison laughed and swatted his arm before turning to wave goodbye to me. I gave her a small wave back, but I was too stunned by their interaction to know what I was doing.

“Mornin’,” Easton nodded as he approached the front of the house. “Is the little guy awake?”

“Um,” I nodded, too focused on his backward hat and how his arms bulged from his plain white t-shirt. “He’s eating.”

“You okay this morning?”

His head tilted, and a look of concern flashed in his eyes. He started to take a few steps forward, and that was all it took to snap me out of it.

“Of course,” I waved at the yard and backed into the door, trying to get away. “Have fun out here. I have to work.”

Slamming the door, I leaned against it and took a deep breath. Max was waving his spoon around as he waved at me from across the room, and I smiled, giving him a small wave back. When I pushed off the door, I was calmer, focusing on the only man I needed to think about in my life.

“All done?”

“I done,” he said in his sweet voice. He spoke so few words that I savored those small glimpses he gave me, and I closed my eyes, memorizing how he sounded when he said the word done .

Truthfully, I didn’t have to work. My entire day was going to be spent making sure Max was happy. The move had been a lot for him, and although the plan was to find him a preschool once we were settled, he wasn’t ready yet.

Or maybe it was me that wasn’t ready. In his three short years, we had barely spent a moment apart.

“Okay, buddy. We need to clean you up.”

As I lifted him from his safety seat, I heard banging outside, and Max turned his head toward the window. “Fire truck!”

Looking out, I realized there was a direct shot of Easton hammering at the fence posts in the corner of the front yard, and Max remembered exactly who he was.

“Yes, fire truck. His name is Easton. He’s going to fix up the yard so we can play outside,” I explained as I started up the stairs. Fire truck was one of the few words he said frequently, knowing exactly what it was, and apparently knowing how to dial one up.

Although his call that night was a mistake, he and I had spent a little time chatting about not touching mommy’s phone. We also talked about how much I needed to finish setting up his room, so he didn’t have to sleep with me every night. But his special bed I had ordered wasn’t going to be in for a few more weeks.

By the time I got Max cleaned up and back downstairs, I turned on his favorite cartoon and set him up with crayons and a coloring book at the coffee table. My plan was to clean up where he had been eating, but a soft knock made me turn in that direction instead.

Opening the door, I saw Easton with his head down, and an arm on each side of the frame. Sweat had already formed over his body, creating a pattern on his white shirt that almost had me hypnotized.

“Everything okay?”

“Can I use your restroom?”

“Um,” I looked back at Max and then at Easton. “Sure.”

Max was too distracted to see Easton, and I was too distracted to be more polite. Luckily, Easton seemed to know where the bathroom was without me having to tell him, and quickly disappeared behind the closed door.

“Sheesh, Jesse, get it together.”

Swiping my hands through my hair, I went to sit with Max while Easton did whatever he had to do. He was quick and came out wiping his freshly washed hands on his jeans to dry them.

“Oh no, there wasn’t a towel in there, was there?” I stood back up, slightly embarrassed.

“It's all good,” he laughed. “I honestly only washed my hands to impress you. Had you not been here, I’d have just gone behind the fence out back and—well, never mind.”

His face turned a cute shade of red, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen a man that looked as good as Easton be both cocky and unsure of himself at the same time.

“How’s it going out there?”

“Not too good,” he huffed, making the smile fall from my face. “It's not as bad as I had hoped, so it's not taking as long. By lunchtime, I may have to think of another excuse to come back. How are the faucets? Or the baseboards? Any trees in the backyard need to be taken down?”

It was my turn to blush, realizing that he was admitting his ruse. His willingness to chop down a tree to stay made my heart warm to the fact that he was there in the first place.

“We’re all good,” I shrugged. “That fence being fixed will make it easier to let Max play outside, and that’s all I care about.”

Easton nodded, then looked around like he was trying to think of another job he could do. “How about?—?”

“Fire truck!” Max’s screech of excitement interrupted Easton, and his face morphed into a huge smile.

“Hey buddy, yeah, I came on the fire truck.”

Once Max realized Easton was there, he stood and kept pointing, repeating “fire truck” and jumping up and down. I wasn’t shocked that he was excited, but I hadn’t expected him to run toward Easton and hug his leg.

Easton was frozen, his eyes wide, unsure how he should respond. But once he caught my gaze and I gave him a slight nod, he relaxed and squatted to Max’s height.

“ It's good to see you too, my man. You love fire trucks, don’t ya?”

Max nodded. I didn’t expect him to say much because he never did, so I was surprised again when I heard three precious words from his sweet mouth.

“I love trucks!”

“Me too!” Easton responded. “Especially fire trucks.”

“Me too!” Max ran from Easton and toward his coloring book, grabbing and holding it up for Easton to see. “This truck!”

It was a picture of an 18-wheeler and Max had scribbled different colors across it on the page.

“Those are the best trucks,” Easton nodded, sounding more serious than before. “They travel through town sometimes and honk.”

“Beep, beep,” Max laughed, before lowering his head back down to color again.

The entire exchange had me entranced. Max wasn't incapable of speaking, he just chose not to, especially to strangers. Seeing him take to Easton so quickly had me searching for words that just wouldn't come.

“Hey,” Easton finally said, lowering his voice so only I could hear him. “You okay?”

“Um,” I laughed humorlessly, then cleared my throat. “Of course.”

There was a soft touch to my elbow and I looked down to see the tips of Easton’s fingers touching my skin. He pulled back as if he had just noticed the contact, then leaned down and asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t mean to over?—”

“I promise I’m fine,” I nodded. Then to reassure him, I explained. “He just doesn’t talk much. I know he’s only three, but he’s always so quiet.”

“Nothing brings a man out of his shell like truck-talk.” Easton raised his hands in the air and shrugged as if his words were a no-brainer. “My guy here knows that some things aren’t worth talking about. Trucks are.”

“You’re probably right,” I smiled, then looked back at my son. “Thanks for talking trucks with him, then. He needs some bro-time.”

Instantly, I regretted my words. They were supposed to be in jest and playful, but it gave Easton a peek behind a curtain that I rarely let anyone see. Thankfully, he didn’t use that opening for anything more, and started walking toward the door.

“I have just a little bit left on this fence. Start thinking of something else I can do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” I reminded him.

He turned, with his hand on the doorknob, and glanced down at Max before looking back up at me. “Yeah, I do. Just doesn’t feel done yet.”