The Cunning Thief (Stolen Hearts #6)(9)
As a matter of fact, he rarely ever went swimming. He seemed to always be working a job. Even when he tried to take vacations, he’d always stumble on to some mark or some game he could win. That’s why he didn’t want to be benched. The idea that he’d fucked up and Toni and Hart could kick him out so easily was terrifying. In fact, it made him rethink this entire arrangement. He liked them all enough, and the pay was good, but he didn’t need that kind of stress. He could get jobs on his own. He didn’t need a boss. He didn’t need to be taking orders. So what if Blackthorne was screwing over hundreds of people with their reckless developments and halfhearted buyouts of low-income communities? Hart would deal with it. Toni would deal with it. This didn’t have to be his problem.
Even so, after his screw-up last night, he felt double pressure to prove himself. Which meant gaining Shae’s trust. He knew that she had good reason to be reluctant, which didn’t bode well for him. If she’d been more na?ve, he could’ve probably already had her driving up for a date right now. But as it was, he’d have to find some other way to embed himself into her life for the moment. If he came over to ask her out later today, it would surely just get her more suspicious. He’d have to make her think it was her idea.
It was time to bring out the big guns. He smiled at the thought as he walked back to the house. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw a dart of movement in one of the windows of Shae’s house and he realized she’d been watching this whole time. This might be easier than he thought.
Vinyl was the best. Shae knew she was crazy to have so much love for an inanimate object, but it was true. After working for nine straight hours on the floors, she’d got a room and a half done. It might not be amazing progress, but considering she was working alone, she was damn impressed with herself. She sat back, her well-worn knee pads saving her legs from strenuous damage, and surveyed the beautiful floors. Sure, it wasn’t hardwood, but the overall effect was amazing. She’d bet a good eighty percent of people who looked at the home wouldn’t realize it wasn’t hardwood until they really got down and tapped on it. She would buy the place if she had the money....
She stood up and only then realized exactly how much the nine hours straight of labor had hurt her body. She stretched her arms up and leaned to each side, giving her spine a much-needed break. She really needed to get that new bathtub installed sooner rather than later. What she wouldn’t give to drop her body into a steaming-hot bath filled with Epsom salts.
There was the option to take a dip in the ocean, but she hated the idea of swimming alone at night. Something about the water became more menacing in the dark. Not to mention she watched a tad too many nature documentaries, so she knew exactly what was floating on the water at night.
She decided some fresh air would be good. She pulled off the mask that helped keep her from breathing in all the vinyl dust and turned the fan on higher as she opened all the windows. This would help clear out the space, but she’d still probably have a headache in the morning.
A small price to pay for how good it looked right now. With the fans working overtime, she walked gingerly downstairs and out the back door. It was too dark to really see the water, but she could hear the waves even over the sound of the fans blowing. She smiled at the relaxing sound and collapsed into one of the rocking chairs. She’d bought these chairs for about ten bucks a pop at the local hardware store. They were hard plastic, and any other day they’d be so uncomfortable she could barely sit in them. Right now, it felt like heaven. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. As the relaxation finally settled into her bones, the loud blaring of the fire alarm had her eyes snapping open. She jumped up and turned around, looking at Seaside Escape to see what was happening. But then she realized the sound wasn’t coming from her house. It was coming from McCormick Place. She cursed under her breath as she started for her neighbor’s house. She was half expecting that the new neighbor had accidentally burned something, setting off the fire alarm by accident, but then she saw the orange flames dancing in the windows. “Shit.” Shae went running for the house. The back door was open, and she came inside right as she saw Tristan pour water onto the fire. The flames burst up, reaching as high as the ceiling but luckily staying confined to the pan it was coming from. Shae ran forward and pushed him away before he could cause any more damage as she found the lid that fit the pan and threw it on the fire. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed.
Tristan held his hands up innocently, seeming not to understand what just happened. “I threw water on the fire. Water puts out fires. Even, like, three-year-old kids know that.”
“Not on a grease fire,” she said, unable to keep irritation out of her voice. She couldn’t believe he almost burned down McCormick Place. It would kill property values if she had to sell Seaside Escape next to a burned-out husk of a home.
Sure, it was a selfish way to think about it, but Shae wasn’t exactly in a giving mood right now. She grabbed an oven mitt, picked up the offending pan, and started for the back door. She’d apparently left the door open, so it was easy for her to get out onto the sandy beach. Once in the safety of the sand, she lifted the lid off. A billow of smoke rose out, but it appeared the flames had mostly died. Not wanting to take any chances, she put the pan on the ground, kicking the sand inside to make sure no more oxygen reached any of the embers. “You have no idea how dangerous that was,” she said, unable to hide her annoyance with him.