The Douglas Fir Read Online Free PDF Page A

to carry. “Let’s have no more talk of glow-in-the-dark anythings.”
    Mr. Cole laughed and followed me back to my truck, the bucket at his hip. “Look,” he said, resting against the side of the deck as I dropped in my duffel bag, “about that job that kid offered you—”
    I twisted sharply. “ Dave?” I suddenly knew what Mr. Cole was going to say, and I wished I’d never told him—ranted, perhaps?—about my ‘competition.’
    “Yeah, look, I have a couple of smaller stints I’ll be working on over the next couple of months but not much.” He shrugged. “Tough economy. Maybe you should get yourself that job to tide you over until I have something bigger for the both of us.”
    I rested my back against the truck and folded my arms. “I said we were busy for the next few months.”
    Mr. Cole shrugged. “So tell him you managed to squeeze some time in to help him out.”
    “God I hate you right now.”
    He laughed and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m not bloody thrilled to be suggesting this either. Look, I could swap you one of my smaller jobs, but it involves clearing the yard after a sewerage leak.”
    I made a face. Dave or sewerage? Hard choice.
    “Look at it another way,” Mr. Cole said . “You’ll be earning yourself a few points helping out your true love’s friend, now wouldn’t you?”
    I stalked to the driver’s side and open ed the door. Over the roof, I said, “This is just fan-bloody-tastic. He’d better not be so darn nice this time.”
     
    * * *
     
    What would you know?
    He was nice this time .
    The bastard.
    And I had another two full days of him ahead of me. Just keep your head down and focus on the yard. Keep him out of your mind. And Christ, stop imagining the two of them together!
    I hacked with vengeance at the weeds and tossed stringy branches into a heap at the side of the house. Dave had scored himself a beaut of a villa in Miramar that overlooked the bays, and had bedrooms to spare. It was like he’d bought the house expecting that he’d soon have a whole family to fill it—or Noah and all his pets.
    Great house, great job, great cook, great friend—
    That’s not keeping them out of your mind, dammit!
    I breathed in through my nose and exhaled slowly, as if that would get me into a Dave-and-Noah-free zone—
    “Found a pair!”
    I stopped hacking and turned to the guy that I was sure would plague my dreams tonight. He waved a pair of gardening gloves at me with a crooked smile. “I can help you out if you like?”
    I laid the machete down with my collection of tools and wiped the sweat off my brow with my arm. “Thought you hired me to do the grunt work?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t mind helping a bit. I hired you because I haven’t any clue how to tackle this yard.”
    “You’ll get all sweaty,” I said, pointedly looking at his fresh-looking jeans and fitted, locally-printed T-shirt. So how about you just get on back inside the house, now?
    “It’s just a bit of dirt.” He slipped on the gloves. Two of his fingers caught in one space, and he flicked the glove off as he tried to right it. The glove flipped in the air and hit me smack on the nose before dropping to my boot.
    I stared at Dave, who was flushing as he tried more carefully to slip the other glove on. “This one fits better.”
    As if the gloves came in different sizes. I crouched, picked up the offending navy— winter —glove. Not gardening gloves. Thorns and splinters would cut through this like it was slightly refrigerated butter.
    I tossed the woolen glove at him. “Take the other one off.” Moving to my duffel bag, I rummaged around until I found a thick pair of gardening gloves. A faded red and yellow, they weren’t pretty, but they’d protect the smooth, gardening-virgin skin of his hands.
    I passed him the new pair. “Try these.”
    They were a bit big on him, and most definitely didn’t suit the rest of his look, but that worked for me. “So then, you ready to join me working