Unfortunately, my yard was still soaked from the deluge, so I was ankle deep in mud, trying to drag heavy timbers uphill. I can’t say I was thrilled when I heard Monroe’s voice as I slipped in the muck and fell on my butt.
“So many ‘dirty’ joke opportunities here,” he said, shaking his head and stretching his hand out. am not above throwing a fistful of this at you,” I told him as he pulled me to my feet
“Why do you think I’m helping you instead of going for my camera?” Monroe asked, taking the wet, damaged timber and tossing it onto Hap’s flatbed
Without being asked, Monroe just started working. He was not afraid of getting his hands dirty, or his shirt, his jeans… We were both pretty filthy by the time Mr. Borchard finished collecting bits and pieces of the dock from the shoreline. He seemed thrilled at the prospect of meeting Monroe, because here was a person who had not yet heard his story about catching a fourteen-pound large-mouth bass on his grandson’s Snoopy reel.
“Mr. Borchard, this is my neighbor, um, Mr. Monroe,” I said as Monroe shook Mr. Borchard’s hand. “Mr. Borchard helped my grandfather build this dock when he was eight years old.”
“Her granddaddy paid my brother and me a quarter a day, plus lunch. Hector blew his on Bazooka and comic books, but I saved up all summer.”
Monroe grinned. “What did you buy?”
Hap looked insulted. “I didn’t buy anything. Saved it all, probably still have it in a coffee can somewhere.”
“Mr. Borchard doesn’t trust banks,” I told Monroe, who nodded in sage agreement.
“Sad to see this old thing go,” Hap said, swiping his forehead with an old red bandanna he kept in his back pocket. “Back then, we didn’t know to put foam floaters underneath, so the dock would just float up if the water rose. It’s been swamped so many times over the years, the water flushed it right off the bottom during the storm.
“Miz Lacey, have you given any thought to replacing it?” Hap asked. “Doesn’t make any sense to have a house on the lake and no dock.”
“Why don’t you put an estimate together for me and we’ll talk about it,” I said.
Sensing a sustained job to keep him busy through the fall, Hap offered to put the estimate together that very minute. I gave him a legal pad and a glass of iced tea and he settled into the porch swing to start scribbling.
“Shouldn’t you be up there with him?” Monroe asked when I found a reason to help him round up bits and pieces of wood.
“No, if I stay up there, he’ll start telling a story about a fish he caught in 1972 and six hours from now I’ll have no estimate and a profound death wish. I’ve been through this before, the summer we had to replace the window screens. I learned more about gig lines that I ever thought possible.”
“Well, surely that knowledge will come in handy someday.”
“Kind of doubt it,” I told him. “I appreciate the help, by the way. It was mighty neighborly of you.”
“Well, when I see an attractive woman doing solo mud wrestling, I’ve got to get a closer look,” he said as he rubbed drying mud from my jaw. The warmth from his fingers seeped into my skin and it was all I could do not to lean into the caress like a cat. “The good news is you’d probably pay fifty bucks for this at a spa.”
“Gross,” I groaned, wiping at the itchy patch of skin to cover the shiver that wracked my spine.
“No, wait, I’ll do the other side,” Monroe said, holding his own grimy hands up as if he was going to swipe them across my face.
I laughed, backing away carefully as he advanced. “Stay away from me, you lunatic, or I’ll injure your good butt cheek.”
“Oh, come on, it’s all-natural,” Monroe said, lumbering toward me like Frankenstein’s facialist. He caught me around the waist as I struggled to keep my face away from his muddy hands.
“No! Police brutality! No!” I squealed, laughing my head off as my upper body slid out of his grasp and toward the mud. I scooped up a handful just before Monroe righted me on my feet. I cocked my hand behind my head. “You will pay, Monroe!”
“You wouldn’t; you’re too nice a girl.” He grinned as he held my arms at bay. My face was dangerously close to his, the scrape of beard stubble just grazing the tip of my nose. We stopped laughing, our heads cradled together. I was fixated on the white curve of his smile, the warm flow of breath on my cheek. He tilted his mouth toward mine and -…
Behind us, I heard someone clear his throat. I looked up to see my brother smirking down at us. I glared at him. Chagrined, Monroe let go of me but managed to wipe his hands on my back. I snickered and smacked at him.
“So you must be Lacey’s neighbor,” Emmett said, barely able to contain his grin.
“Monroe,” he said, reaching out to shake Emmett’s hand but drawing it back for a wave when he saw how dirty it was.
“I was so worried about you up here all alone with that thunderstorm,” Emmett told me. “But obviously you’ve had plenty to keep you occupied.”
“This is my incredibly ill-mannered brother. Don’t worry, he’s adopted.” I assured Monroe. “Emmett, Monroe was helping me clear away the dock. It sank. And you’re just in time not to help us, so I’d suggest you zip it.”
“Oh, honey, I wasn’t worried enough to actually lift something,” Emmett said, shuddering. “So, Monroe, tell me all about yourself. What have you been doing with our little Lacey? She looks so relaxed…” Emmett sighed.
“Leave now,” I told a bemused Monroe. “Make your escape while you still can.”
“I guess I’ll go clean up. Let me know if you need help getting Mr. Borchard off your porch,” he told me. “It was nice to meet you -”
“Run, man, run!” I hissed. Monroe took one last opportunity to pat me on the back, leaving muddy handprints. He nodded to Emmett and then sauntered off.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I told my brother when Monroe was out of earshot.
“Hmmm.” Emmett said, linking his arm through mine as we made our way back up to the house. “It seems we aren’t s committed to the convent life as we thought.”
“Shut it,” I told him.
“I like him,” Emmett said. “Anyone who laughs at our jokes has my blessing to bone my sister.”
“Nice.”
“And he made eye contact with me, which is more than I can say for Mike,” Emmett said drily.
When we reached the porch, Hap handed me one sheet of paper estimating that it would take what could only be called a “crapload” of money to replace my dock.
Ouch.
“And I took the liberty of drawing up a list of things that you could stand to do around here, Miz Lacey, especially if you plan on staying up here this winter. Your storm windows and insulator need replacing. Your roof needs new shingles in a few places. It might take me a little bit, but I can finish up before the cold sets in.”
As long as Hap wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone, I conceded, that was probably true.
“Well, you just let me know,” Hap said as I handed him an envelope full of cash for the dock removal. Hap didn’t like to leave a paper trail.
“You’re not really thinking of staying up here year-round, are you?” Emmett asked as we went inside.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It’s because of Monroe, isn’t it?” Emmett gasped as I poured us iced tea. “I knew it! You’ve been tearing up the sheets with Wolverine!”
“Okay, that’s it, you’re going to pun jail,” I told him. “No, I’m not sleeping with Monroe. We’re just friends.”
Emmett’s lips twitched. “Friends who wrassle in the mud and make out?”