Beyond Repair by Kelly Lincoln Page A

with the contact. “Go ahead. I can tell reclaimed wood is your Christmas.”
    The guy who worked there nodded. “He gets a hard-on for reclaimed wood.”
    Chris narrowed his eyes for a second, and then shrugged. “I kind of do.” He grinned down at me. “You sure you don’t mind?”
    I put my hands up. “It’s really none of my business.”
    His mouth fell open. “I meant if I go look at it. I don’t really have a …” Chris stopped talking and rubbed the top of his head.
    Heat rushed to my face as I dug through my purse for the hand sanitizer. That was a total dumbass comment I made. I really needed to stop thinking about Chris, and about how I wanted to claim his wood.
    The relief was instantaneous as I rubbed my hands together. “Take your time.”
    * * *
    We piled the plywood, doors, and several pieces of reclaimed wood that Chris was very excited about into the back of his truck. After driving for a while, he slowed down in front of a little restaurant. “My sister told me about this place. It doesn’t look like much, but she said the food was really good. Is this okay with you?”
    It was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that just screamed counter service and getting your drink in a sealed bottle. “Definitely.”
    We went in, and it took minimal convincing to talk me out of getting a salad and into getting a cheeseburger instead. He insisted on paying, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
    “So, how did your sister know about this place?” I paused, considering the location. It was about five minutes from the beach. “Does she go to the beach a lot?”
    Chris put his drink down. “Yeah, she loves it. I don’t know why. I’ve always hated the beach.”
    “Really? Me, too. I think sand is disgusting, and I feel dirty as hell when it gets stuck all over me.”
    He leaned forward. “I hate when you go to the beach for ten minutes, and then you find sand in your car for three months. I think you’re the first person I’ve met who hates it, too.”
    “This is good. We’ll never go there.” I realized after I had spoken that my words insinuated us spending more time together, but Chris didn’t react.
    “No way.” He took a sip of his water. “Does Mia like it?”
    I rolled my eyes. “Yes, of course. But Zoey and Kyle love it so I usually send her with them.”
    We finished eating, and I looked down at the remnants of our lunch on the table. I guessed it was time to go, though I wanted to stay with him longer. I looked up to suggest we leave, but we made eye contact and I was too busy enjoying him to think.
    “Excuse me, Chris?”
    We both looked up. Two older men were standing next to the table.
    Chris looked thoughtful for a couple of seconds before recognition showed on his face. “Jeremy, hi. Nice to see you again.”
    “Sorry to interrupt. This is my brother, Kevin. He’s interested in having an addition built like the one you did on my house.” He smiled down at me. “Is this your wife?”
    Awkward.
    Chris turned red. “Um, she’s not … We’re not …”
    I jumped in. “We’re neighbors.” I smiled at them. “Nice to meet you.”
    “My apologies.” The conversation quickly turned to construction, and Chris’s eyes flashed toward me. “I can give you a call tonight, Kevin, if you want to give me your number—”
    As I looked in my purse for my hand sanitizer, I noticed my phone had a voicemail on it from work. “Keep talking. I actually have to call my boss, so I’ll be right outside.” I excused myself and went out to listen to it. The rain had stopped, and I plopped myself down on a bench that was dry, thanks to a big metal umbrella attached to it.
    I called my boss, who wanted to get my opinion on some ad campaign changes. After talking to her for a few minutes, I disconnected and reached for my bag to put my phone away. The sound of footsteps on the wet pavement made me look up.
    My hand gripped my phone as I watchedPierce walk toward the restaurant,