When in December (Home Haven #1)

Chapter 10

ten

. . .

Poppy

I waited for a call for the next twelve hours, unable to sleep in the same bedroom I’d slept in my entire life, all alone. I created pretty spaces around me from plush pillows to quilts, but in the end, I only used one of the pillows and half the bed was always cold—just like Aaron had insinuated. I waited for Michelle to call me and tell me that I was off the project and out of the running for the promotion. Even more likely? Fired.

Everything I’d worked for was about to be gone, all because I’d slapped Aaron Hayes.

I’d never slapped anyone before. I still couldn’t quite believe that it’d happened. I wouldn’t if my hand didn’t still sting from force or the memory.

Hours ticked by. One after the next. But I never got the call.

My entire night had been as quiet as the drive as I anxiously made the trip back out of the city and toward the cabin, unsure of what awaited me when I walked through the mudroom door, using my key.

My heart rate rocketed from its anxious stutter as I entered the house again to a full-on race. I’d figured that maybe Aaron would still be upset with me for some reason, still likely unknown to man, but I hadn’t expect this .

This felt excessive.

For a second, I thought it was a wolf. A small, short-haired wolf, sure, but a very dark, menacing wolf. My eyes widened on the animal staring back at me.

His dark golden eyes pierced into my soul with a cock of its head, taking stock.

“Nice … dog?” I ventured.

The dog had a slight limp as it took another step forward, making a low sound from the back of its throat.

What did I do?

Run? Freeze? Play dead?

“Hey!” Aaron trailed around the corner and snapped, but not at me. He swooped his hand under the dog’s metal collar and pulled him back a step, looking the dog directly in the eye and almost baring his teeth at the thing. They looked like twins, right down to the nervous hitch in their legs. “ Nice . You’re a goddamn house dog now. Get used to it.”

I might’ve died and gone completely catatonic.

I blinked a few times before I found my voice again. “You have a dog?”

The dog stared up at him after being let go. Or maybe it was a glare.

If it was the latter, maybe I wasn’t at a complete loss at making friends with the animal. I took my own time to look at Aaron, taken aback.

For a second, I could’ve been convinced that there was an entirely different man standing in front of me. This morning, Aaron was crisp and clean. He wore a tight shirt underneath—was that a green-and-brown flannel? His hair was fresh with loose waves that fell over his head, growing out from the short buzz on the sides it must’ve been before, along with his beard that he hadn’t shaved yet.

Maybe he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to look presentable when he was hiding out here.

He was fitting the part of woodsy grouch rather well. He looked like he was about ready to head outside and start chopping down a few trees for firewood, wiping his unkempt brow with the back of his flannel sleeve.

I snapped myself out of the vision.

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

“What do you mean, where did I get it ?” Aaron responded with undisguised disgust, though I was still debating whether it was toward the dog or me.

I didn’t know how I could be clearer. There hadn’t been a dog in this cabin any other day I was here, unless he was hiding it somewhere.

Had he found it in the woods? Was it a stray?

Oh God. I looked around the freshly stained floors for any scenes of a new mess. Was the dog even house-trained?

It looked old enough that it had to know better than to do its business inside, right?

Aaron didn’t bother answering any of my questions. He immediately started to walk away from me. With the dog. “The dog is none of your business.”

“What’s its name?”

Aaron never looked like he got much sleep. This morning, somehow, he looked worse than usual.

He looked quite perturbed.

“You didn’t answer my first question so?—”

Aaron huffed, reaching back to rub the back of his neck. “It’s just a dog. Yes, don’t worry; your precious floors are safe. No, it’s not a stray. I’m watching him for a friend for a little while.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh .”

For some reason, I hadn’t expected that answer. Mostly because, though I knew he had once had friends, the past week and a half had been quiet.

This Aaron Hayes still has friends?

The corner of his eye twitched. Turning on his heel, he made it halfway around before I stopped him.

I reached out a hand as if I was going to grab him. Both he and the dog stopped. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about the dog after all. The unnamed pet appeared as if it was going to be officially attached to him from here on out.

“I’m going to use some of the power tools,” I said. “It might be a little loud once I get everything set up.”

Aaron glanced over his shoulder. “And?”

“I didn’t know if the dog would be okay with that,” I said.

“He’s fine with loud sounds. He’s trained to be okay with them.”

“Oh.” I eyed the dog I still didn’t know the name of.

He slowly lay back down at Aaron’s feet like the world’s grumpiest foot warmer.

Grump and grumpier. This was a work dog? The scariness of this animal was quickly wearing off as he all but fell over to his side with a harrumph.

“Are you sure?”

“Believe me or don’t,” huffed Aaron. “Wanna test it out?”

I didn’t, but soon, I was going to have no choice. So much for attempting to be considerate. At least he hadn’t brought up if he’d called my boss. It didn’t seem like he had. He didn’t bring up what had happened last night at all.

Pausing, I waited for it. Only, like my call telling me I’d ended my career, it didn’t come.

Aaron finally made his way back down the hallway and away from me, exactly where I’d thought we were both going to start our day—already thrown for another loop.

As I bent down in the living room to straighten the drop cloth over the floor, my phone beeped with my daily affirmation notification.

I am in the right place.

I wanted to snort. Sure thing, app. At this point, I was sure it was using an algorithm to mock me.

But I looked around the unfinished house one more time. If nothing was going to happen, I had no time to lose.

The hours trickled by. I kept my music turned down low as I finished cutting the boards for the bookshelves meant to fit into the back wall, making them look seamless, as if they’d always been there. I hadn’t gotten to start them last night. I sanded the frayed edges and yelped with delight when they fit into place right where I needed them to.

I still have it.

The last time I had done something like this was before I’d met Lincoln, when I needed other side projects and hobbies to keep me busy, but it was basically like riding a bike.

All I had left was to push the shelves into place, fix up the paint on a few edges, and put together the shelf that would bracket into the back wall to create a cozy reading nook, just out of the way of the fireplace, which I could imagine seeping heat into the living room on Christmas Eve while everyone was curled up in their pajamas.

I was measuring the molding when the creak of feet came from down the hall. I tried to ignore it. Aaron was likely coming out of his room for food or water.

He remained standing outside of the hallway, looking at me as I marked my next measurement.

My eyes scanned from him down to his empty side. “Where’s your new companion?”

I twisted the piece of molding around. I nearly knocked myself in the face with it, feeling him watching me.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked.

I huffed, “Yes.”

“Are you sure about that? You know, I’m pretty sure your fancy company hired those big, hairy guys who were here last week for a reason. Didn’t plan on their little homemaker running around with a handsaw. They’d probably like it more if you stuck to the kitchen, baking sourloaf or whatever.”

“It’s sourdough.”

“What?”

I stopped myself before I corrected him again. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m concerned about your well-being.”

I was sure he was.

“Also wondering how this luxury design, which I’m sure my sister is expecting, is going to pair with your … DIY?”

Setting down my work, I looked up at him from where I knelt on the floor.

“Yes, I know what I’m doing. No, I don’t need any more of your commentary,” I muttered. “And to be frank, as I believe we have decided to be as of yesterday evening, if you haven’t reconsidered calling my boss about what happened—which I truly appreciate you haven’t and that you’re giving me another chance—it would be best if you could give me some space right now so that I can do my job and what I set out to do here.”

“Poppy …” Aaron blinked a few times, as if taken aback.

I peered up at him through my lashes, but went no further to acknowledge him.

“About yesterday. I wanted to say …”

I waited for these words with bated breath.

“I think it’s best if we don’t talk unless you, as the homeowner, are genuinely having a concern. Okay? From now on, I want to make it clear that while I’m here working, I am keeping this strictly professional.”

“Professional?” he asked as if he’d never heard the word before.

“No more, no less.”

“Fine.” He clenched his jaw before he turned to look over his shoulder. “Right. Oz! Come on.”

The sound of dog nails tapped along the floor, coming toward us.

Aaron glanced at me one time before he made it toward the mudroom and headed outside into the cold.

Looking out the back door, I watched the dog I now knew was named Oz attempt to jump over mounds of snow. I’d noticed his limp before, along with the bent nature of his one ear, but he wasn’t letting that stop him. He yelled expletives at the dog who ran further and further around the cabin.

I snorted a laugh.

Standing to pick up the piece of wood I had been working on, I lifted it to make sure it was going to fit at the end before I did anything else. I stretched up on the step-ladder until I was tall enough for molding to slip into place before running my hand down the stretch of wood until the edge touched the ceiling?—

I swallowed the sound that wanted to screech from my mouth.

Slowly, I looked down at my hand. I blinked, nearly dropping the piece of wood. Everything around me turned silent as I stepped down from the ladder and over the nail gun that I was luckily not ready to use yet. I dropped the piece of wood I had been holding. I hadn’t gotten to properly sand it down before its final coat of paint.

Red dripped against the green.

It was anything but festive.