Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(40)

“Let me go first.” I try to open the door, but it’s locked.

“There’s a key. Just under here.” She steps in close, her shoulder brushing my arm as she pushes up on her toes to retrieve it.

I hold out my hand, and she sets the small key in my palm. My skin is suddenly clammy, and a shiver runs down my spine as I push the key in the lock.

The smell of gas.

Dad’s bruised hand.

Lavender’s cut palms.

Kody’s accusing glare.

Lavender’s screams in the middle of the night that lasted for months.

The dreams that wouldn’t go away.

“Maverick.” Clover’s palm comes to rest on my forearm.

“Huh?” I look down at her, seeing the concern in her gaze.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head to clear it. “Oh yeah. Fine. I’m fine. Sometimes raccoons make nests in sheds, and they’re pretty vicious when they feel threatened.” I turn the key and then the handle, pushing the door open.

A small lawn mower is pushed into the back corner, along with a gas can. To the right are tomato cages, empty planters, a couple of small bags of fertilizer, and an assortment of gardening tools. I find two pairs of rubber-palmed gardening gloves that are made for hands a lot smaller than mine, but they’ll do.

I get Clover to hold the ladder for me while I climb up and check the gutters. She was right about it being clogged. There’s an old bird’s nest in here damming up the water, making it impossible for anything to get past.

Clover keeps calling up to me about being careful, and I make sure I toss the crap I’m pulling out in the same direction the wind is blowing—away from Clover. Once the gutter is clear, I climb back down the ladder, peel the gloves off, and help her put everything away.

“I can come in and have a look at the bathroom, if you want,” I offer.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind—unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

She bites her bottom lip, her gaze darting to the house.

“I’ll just go.” I thumb over my shoulder and take a single step toward the sidewalk, not wanting to make this awkward.

She grabs the sides of her cardigan and pulls them over each other. “No. It’s okay. You can have a look. Just let me make sure the bathroom isn’t a mess.”

Instead of leading me to the front door, she takes me around the back, to the deck with the hot tub. A sliding glass door opens to a formal dining room that doesn’t look like it gets much use. On top of the table are two gift baskets full of treats.

“You celebrate a birthday or something?” I nod to the baskets.

“Or something.” Her cheeks flush.

“Secret admirer?” I toe off my shoes and leave them on the mat at the door.

“Also no.”

“How come I’m not allowed to bring you replacement slippers but this gift giver is allowed to send whole freaking baskets?” I ask.

“Because you’re my student. And if you must know, these are from my ex. If I could send them back, I would.” She waves a dismissive hand toward the table.

“Your ex, huh? Does that mean he’s trying to get you back?”

“Trying and failing. Give me a second.” She disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with the baskets.

I round the table, checking to see if there are cards attached, but they’ve either been removed or they didn’t exist in the first place. One of the baskets has been opened, with a few items missing. I wait at the threshold of the room until she gives me the all clear. Then I head down the hall.

I’ve been in this bathroom once before, when I retrieved the first aid kit after she hurt her hands. Just like that time, it’s neat and tidy, smelling of Clover’s distinct perfume, or body wash, or whatever it is.

She points to the wall with the window that faces the driveway. It’s one of those frosted-glass jobs, so no one can see in, but it still provides light. There’s an obvious wet mark on the drywall. I press around the area, and it feels damp and spongy. “So, I’m gonna be totally honest with you.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” She clasps her hands.

I knead the back of my neck. “I don’t have a lot of plumbing experience, apart from knowing how to fill and drain a pool and how to use a plunger on a toilet. But you’re right that there’s water coming in from somewhere, and I’m guessing it probably has something to do with the gutters, like you thought. So, if it dries up, you know you’re good, but if it doesn’t . . . Well, either way, I’d call the landlord. And I have a few contacts for professionals if your landlord doesn’t have anyone.”

She nods. “Oh. Well, you’re ahead of me on the plumbing knowledge because mine begins and ends with knowing how to use a toilet plunger.”

“I can give you a number, if you need one.”

“I’ll check with my landlord first, but I appreciate it.”

“Okay.” I nod, then rack my brain for something else to talk about that isn’t plumbing. “Have you had a chance to practice the moves you learned in my class yet?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Do you want to run through them? It’s always good to practice them the week you learn them, so they stay fresh in your head.” I thumb down the hall toward the dining room. “Seems like it might be good to have some practice if you’ve got a persistent ex who doesn’t know how to deal with being dumped.”