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SOMEONE knocked on my window.
A scream froze in my throat when I saw the face in the window.
I shoved my book under my pillow before I walked over to the window and slid it open. “What do you want? I was almost asleep.”
Hagen ignored me and climbed through my window. I was glad everyone else was asleep in the other rooms on air mattresses. I never would have heard the end of it from them about a “boy” climbing through my window.
“What did you do with my window screen?” I had been trying to keep them in good condition. Apparently, that didn’t matter to some people. He was halfway in, so I slid a couple of fingers into the belt loops of his jeans then tugged. He toppled to the ground with a groan. “Thanks for nothing.”
“What are you doing here?”
He climbed to his feet and looked around. He made my master bedroom seem tiny. His eyes landed on my bed. “You sleep on a twin?”
I glared at him. Why was everyone so obsessed with the fact that I slept on a twin? “Yes, I sleep on a twin. It’s not like I’m seven feet tall and need a custom-sized bed.”
He looked at my bed, then at me, and then he snickered.
“Oh, shut up. Why are you in my house?”
“Because Mack is in mine. Have you heard that man snore?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I mean, really, it was Hagen’s fault for getting so chummy with my cousins. Maybe I should have warned him what they were like, but I figured he’d find out soon enough.
“You’ve got to get him out. Apologize or something.” Hagen was nearly begging.
“What are you going to give me if I get him out?”
“How about I don’t strangle you? How does that sound?”
He tried to sound threatening, but that chance was long gone. He wasn’t a violent person—something I knew full well.
“I’ll get him out of your house in the morning, if you let me drive you somewhere.”
I grabbed a sweatshirt out of my dresser drawer and threw it on top of my spaghetti-strap tank top. I grabbed my down blanket off of my papasan and wrapped up in it. Hagen shoved his hands in his pockets and went to stand in front of my bookshelf.
“Okay, it’s a deal,” he replied absentmindedly.
I’d get my chance to show him that I wasn’t as bad of a driver as he thought I was.
He continued staring at my tall shelf. I had old pictures of my growing-up years with my brothers and sisters and all my cousins. There was an unfortunate picture of me as a freshman in high school looking like nothing but a face full of braces. Maybe I could distract him before he noticed.
“So...” I cleared my throat. “Mack’s snoring at your house? Why did you let him in?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me with a knowing look. He turned back to study the shelf while he answered me. “I couldn’t turn him away. He was sitting on my porch in tears. What was I supposed to do? He fell asleep on my couch. I could hear him snoring while I was in the shower—in my bedroom—with the water running. I thought he was walking through my house with a chainsaw.”
I snorted. “He resorted to tears, huh? That’s because he was scared I might do something to him in his sleep tonight.”
He nodded and moved over to the dresser to look at the pictures there. “I can understand his concern. I’m surprised I have no lasting damage from when you stayed at my house.”
“Meh, I prefer psychological damage.”
“Tell that to my bloody nose.” His glare wasn’t very intimidating when I could see his lips twitching. He sauntered over to my twin bed and sat down on the end. He patted the spot next to him. My breath caught as the room seemed to shrink in size.
“Why don’t you come sit next to me?”
I swallowed and nodded, making my way to my bed. My body moved automatically. I wanted to be close to him. The bed shifted as I sat down with a little space between us. I could smell his aftershave when he sat that close. I forgot to breathe.
His forearms tensed as he pushed himself back so that he could lean against the wall next to me. “How long can I expect Mack to be at my house?”
I swallowed, trying to fix my dry throat. “Well, he used my toothbrush.”
“So, you’re saying I should get him a spare key?”
I giggled at that. “Maybe. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but I just assumed everyone knew that toothbrushes are sacred things. I refuse to share mine with anyone.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Is that because of the braces?”
I reached out and smacked him lightly. “It’s impolite to comment on people’s middle school years. We will never speak of the braces years again. Understand?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said as he leaned forward and snagged a picture of my family off the dresser then leaned back against the wall again. “This one is especially precious. Half your face is braces.”
“Give me that, you big jerk.”
He chuckled as I snatched the picture out of his hands. I laid it facedown on top of the dresser.
He patted the mattress. “No wonder you stole my mattress from me; this thing is as hard as a rock. What are you sleeping on, a piece of plywood?”
“My, aren’t you just the funniest guy tonight?” I clicked my tongue.
He smiled. “I’m pretty sure that moon chair is more comfortable than this.”
“Papasan.”
“What?”
I laughed. “It’s called a papasan, not a moon chair.”
He looked at me like I was crazy and shook his head. “It looks like it will break if I sit in it.”
“It’s really comfy. I fall asleep reading in it a lot.”
His gaze landed on my bookshelf, and again, I wished he would leave and come back later so I’d have a chance to hide any and all embarrassing evidence he could hold against me.
“Are those those vampire books?”
I dropped my head to my knees. “Yes. Guilty pleasure. Sue me.”
“I’ve read them, too.”
I lifted my head and found him grinning at me.
“They were better than I expected.”
I smiled. Maybe I should have given Hagen a break rather than jumped to conclusions about him. I was treating him the same way he had treated me when we first met. Time to change the subject.
“So, I went in your garage this week.”
He looked at me. “I know. You moved my hammer.”
“Oh, did I? I didn’t realize. I was busy ogling your tools.”
“Ogling my tools?”
“Yup. I’ve never seen anything so organized—or shiny, for that matter. I mean, seriously, you should see my dad’s garage, or Grandpa’s shop. You’re lucky to find your way back out again. But looking at your garage makes me wish I knew what to do with all of those gadgets.”
He shrugged and studied his hands. “I like keeping things neat. Easier to work with.”
Now he was embarrassed? What did he have to be embarrassed about? A pristine garage? Excellent wood-working skills? Oh, yeah, you better believe I snooped around the other half of the garage. A wood coffee table, bench, dresser, and a lamp all sat next to each other. “Did you make all of the stuff in there?”
He glanced at me then back down at his rough hands. “Yeah.”
“That’s awesome! When you said you could help me build my pergola, I didn’t think you actually had any skills.”
His lips twitched up.
“I was wondering if you would miss that coffee table, because it would look perfect in my living room.”
At that, he grinned. “You actually like them.”
“Of course! I can’t believe you made all that stuff. You better look out or you’re going to find yourself with your own reality TV show.” I meant it, but it almost seemed as though no one else had bothered to tell him that he had talent.
“You’re crazy.”
“You know, you keep telling me that, and I don’t know why.”
“Maybe you should start to believe me.”
“And maybe you should believe me when I tell you that you’ve got talent.”
Hagen kicked off his tennis shoes and pulled a foot up on the bed.
“Meh, it’s just a hobby.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “Is that what you call that list of orders tacked to the wall? Because that looked like some serious work.”
Hagen shrugged. “I do it in my spare time. Evenings and weekends. It’s peaceful.”
“Do I need to give you my ‘marketing speech for the doubtful business owner’?”
He looked at me in mock horror. “Oh no, not that. Anything but that.”
“If you don’t take yourself seriously, no one else will, either. But don’t take yourself too seriously, or you won’t have any fun at it anymore.”
“And fun is the most important thing in life?”
I nodded. “Obviously, fun isn’t the end all, but people who enjoy what they do, enjoy going to work every day. They have less stress in their life, which leads to a healthier lifestyle and, overall, a higher level of happiness. So, yeah, I would say enjoying your job is important. It affects every other area of your life.”
He tapped his fingers against his knee. “Do you think it’s more important for a person to enjoy their job than to make a lot of money at it?”
“Without a doubt.”
“But you’re in marketing.”
“Exactly. Our marketing firm targets smaller businesses. We try to help people make a living off of those jobs they love so much. My favorite client, Hyacinth, has a small quilt and craft shop downtown. She loves creating things, and she has a natural talent—and patience—for teaching people. She’s not looking to become a national chain. We simply helped her be discovered by the community.”
He nodded. “So you don’t think I’m crazy for loving woodworking?”
“It shouldn’t matter what I think. But no, I think you’re incredibly talented. I think a lot of people would love to have you do custom work for them.”
“I enjoy it. I actually get to see the work I’ve done. Same with when I’m wiring a house. When it’s done, I know I’ve helped provide light and warmth to that house. It’s a very tangible thing. I can’t work at a desk all day. It makes me feel like I’m going crazy.”
I laughed. I sat behind a desk for the majority of the day, but I liked it. I liked getting to be creative with my work and help my clients find a vision for their business.
“So, tell me. Why do you like building stuff? And can you teach me?” I laughed.
Hagen smiled and leaned his head back against the wall. “Building furniture is like building memories. When I build a dining room table, I’m building something that a family is going to gather around. I’m going to build it strong enough for a toddler to dance on, or kids to play games on. Families build memories around that table, hosting holidays with grandparents and fighting over who gets the last piece of pie. I build porch swings so people can sit out in the sun and make memories together. In my mind, everything has a purpose.”
“That’s awesome. You better look out, because if I ever show my mother what you can build, she’ll be pounding on your door, ordering all the things.”
“Is she obsessed with furniture?”
“She’s obsessed with making her house look nice. She’s great at decorating and likes to find unique pieces, so custom-made furniture is right up her alley.”
“She’s not the only one who makes her house look nice. Yours is nice and cozy, too. I’ve even noticed the difference in my living room.”
I felt my cheeks flush at the compliment. I did like things to look good, and cozy was the perfect word for it. His compliments mattered to me, probably more than they should have. He was such a different man than the first impression I’d had of him.
“Why did you snap at me when I first came to your door? I didn’t ever do anything to you. I hadn’t even seen you before.”
“I thought you were someone that my sister-in-law was trying to set me up with. All of my friends and my brother and his wife practically did a victory dance when I broke up with my girlfriend Brooke.”
I nodded.
“I wasn’t ready to date again, but they kept throwing people at me. Some of them weren’t much better than Brooke, either, so I was a little burnt out from having to change my phone number and undergo plastic surgery.”
“Har har. Very funny.”
“What, you think this nose is real?”
“Oh, did you have to pay them to add that break line there to make you look more rugged?”
“Yes, I decided I looked too perfect without it.” He smiled.
“Thank goodness you’re not one of those guys who’s full of themself.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before I asked, “How long did you and your girlfriend date?”
“Six months.”
“Wow.” Good one, Kylie. Great commentary there.
Hagen glanced at me. “It was six months too long.”
I cleared my throat. “Why do you say that?”
“Brooke was...well...ambitious. She had places she wanted to go in her life.” He pointed his finger at me. “Don’t give me that look. I have nothing against ambitious women; it’s just that we didn’t have the same view on life—or anything, for that matter. I think if you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone, you should agree on the major things. Things like, if you want to have kids or not, or if you should take over your father’s company or keep working as an electrician and woodworker.”
“Aha,” I said. It was all making sense. His second-guessing his career. His needing a second person to affirm his belief in his work. I stretched out on the bed and propped my head in my hand as I looked at him. “She was one of the controlling ones, huh?”
“Yeah.” He studied my pale-yellow wall as though it was the most interesting mural in the world. “Sorry for oversharing. No one wants to hear about exes.”
“I actually find it therapeutic. I mean, if I learn from someone else’s exes, it means I can be careful to not end up with someone like that in my life.”
He glanced down at me and smirked. “You have any exes to speak of?”
“Oh, not so quick. Come on. Help a girl out. What else should I avoid in a future boyfriend?”
Hagen swallowed. “I’ve...well, I’ve always wanted a family. I want a wife and kids. I’ve always wanted to spend my life with someone who wanted kids, too. I was up front about that when we started dating. I don’t really do casual dating because I know what I want. I thought that’s what she wanted, too. Brooke lied to me. Told me she couldn’t wait to have kids with me some day. Talked about it all the time. I figured since we wanted the same things—to take our kids camping, spend time together—we could work out our other issues, and she would get used to my career choice.”
He ran a hand over his face. I bit my tongue to keep from interrupting him. I could see where this was going. Anyone who actively convinced someone they were worthless for choosing a blue-collar job had to be the most selfish type of person out there.
“What did she do?”
“Do?”
“Yeah, for work. Where did she work that she thought she was so much better?”
Hagen chuckled humorlessly. “She didn’t work. She ‘circulated.’ Made social connections but didn’t have a job.”
“My family has a name for that, and it isn’t circulating. We call it gold-digging.”
Hagen reached over and squeezed my hand as he continued. “One night, when she was arguing her point that I needed to take my place on the board at my father’s company, she got mad enough that she told me the truth. She wished she had picked my older brother, Branton, instead of me. Then, she told me that she had lied to me about wanting kids and had tied her tubes because she didn’t want a baby to ruin her figure, and she for sure wasn’t going to ‘waste her time adopting a baby.’”
“Thank goodness,” I said quietly.
He looked at me in surprise.
I lifted a shoulder and smiled sheepishly. “She’s a liar and selfish. Sounds like she’d be a terrible mother.”
His lips parted and then slowly stretched into a smile. “Thank you for that. It feels good to tell someone what happened.”
“You mean you haven’t told anyone?”
He shook his head. “I just tell them it was irreconcilable differences.”
“I’ll say. She was a liar and a selfish witch. How did you end up with someone like that?”
“She was charming in the beginning. Smart. She seemed kind. Turns out, she just wanted a piece of the family business.”
“What exactly does your family do?”
“Dad owns Glacier Bank.”
“Oh, he’s one of the branch owners?”
Hagen smirked and shook his head. “No, he owns the chain.”
The chain. Glacier Bank had at least fifty locations in Louisiana alone. I didn’t know how much money we were talking about, but I had a feeling being a bank owner wasn’t in the same pay grade as being a marketing team manager.
I waited for this information to change what I thought of Hagen. Nothing happened. He was still the attractive man sitting on my twin bed, teasing me about books, and talking about an ex-girlfriend. I licked my dry lips. “Oh—okay. That is not what I expected you to say.”
“That my parents have money?”
“I was hoping you were going to say they owned an adventure park or a vacation resort. Page is right; I need some friend perks here. Banks are just boring. Money everywhere. How plebeian.”
He grinned at me and squeezed my leg, sending an electric wave up my skin. “You’re hopeless.”
We spent the next couple hours swapping stories and insults. I told him about my big, crazy family and complained about working with Lyle. He told me about his mom trying to get more grandbabies. It felt so natural to be sitting on my small bed with him. We gravitated closer together as we showed off our childhood scars along with the stories of how we got them. After that particular conversation, we didn’t move apart. We simply sat there, leaning against each other. He asked about my cactus that had been named Landon, so I told him all about it.
“Kylie.”
“Hmm?” I was pretty comfy, curled up against his side, letting him play with my hair.
“Let’s go on a date.”
I opened my eyes to look at his face. He looked serious, but I wasn’t sure. “You mean a real date?”
“Yeah, a real date. Dinner, flowers, the whole works. And you can’t use Landon as an excuse. If you don’t want to go on a date, all you have to do is tell me no, and I’ll respect that.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” My heart continued its irregular beating as I waited for his answer.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’d like to try. I like you. I know I shouldn’t have been so rude to you when you came to my door. But I’m not sorry about our little war. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.”
I smiled at that because the same was true for me. “Okay. Let’s go on a date.”
* * * * *
I was buried under a pile of blankets, wrapped up like a taco. The last thing I remembered was Hagen running his hands through my hair until my eyes drifted closed. My phone was ringing, and I quickly picked it up.
“Hello?”
I glanced around. Hagen had left sometime in the night, or maybe early morning, because I didn’t even notice him leave. I’d probably been dead to the world and sleeping in a puddle of my own drool.
“Hi, Kylie. This is Rick.”
“How are you?”
“Really great. Say, sorry to bother you so early.”
I glanced at the time—seven in the morning.
Rick continued. “I’m calling with some good news. We caught the man who’s been breaking in to houses around there. He’s in custody right now and has already been interrogated and admits to casing a variety of houses in your neighborhood.”
“What a relief!” I sank onto my papasan chair but miscalculated and the whole chair ended up tipping over with me in it.
“Are you okay? I heard a crash,” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just fell out of a chair.”
“No coffee yet, huh?”
“Nope. But hey, thank you for calling. That puts my mind to rest so much. Do you think he’s the one who’s been sending me notes?”
I could hear a horn in the background and could only assume Rick was commuting through town as he spoke to me. “I think it’s a pretty good bet he’s the one. I don’t want to disturb you, but he made several comments about how beautiful you were. He said he got distracted when he was casing your house, because he enjoyed watching you so much.”
Now I was going to have to take out a personal loan to pay for a twenty-foot-tall privacy fence around my house. Creepers who talked about loving to watch you didn’t exactly inspire confidence in me.
“I’m sorry that we didn’t make the connection between those notes and the break-ins sooner. I’m hoping we’ll get a full confession from him today. It will make it easier to move forward to a trial. If you want, you could bring in those notes and press charges and get a restraining order. He’s not going to make bail, though, because he’s a flight risk.”
I sighed. “As long as he’s not getting out anytime soon, I’m happy to leave it alone.”
“Alright. Well, you have a good day, and I’ll keep you updated on any changes with the case.”
“Thanks, Rick.”
I hung up the phone and leaned back in the chair—carefully.
My stalker days were over. No more notes, pictures, or break-ins.