Page 114 of Between Desire and Denial

“What on earth are you doing?” I stared at him with a freaking tool belt on. Dimitri Hardy. The most eligible bachelor I’d ever seen, swinging away at the floorboards of the porch like he couldn’t afford a construction crew.

“You complained about a floorboard creaking on here.”

“No. Jameson mentioned… Dimitri, he said he would come by and fix that board. Did you—” It occurred to me then that Dimitri shouldn’t have known any of that because it was from our conversation on the porch. “Were you listening to us?”

“Yeah. I’m aware of what he offered.” He wedged a crowbar-looking thing under the floorboard and cranked on it hard. Much harder than necessary. The wood crunched and cracked.

Now, I was concerned about his mental state, not mine. “Dimitri, are you okay?” I asked softly. I knew I’d acted out but now he was acting more than a little angry. His face was red, and there was a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

“I’m trying my best not to be pissed at this community right now. I really am. Melly’s a little…”

“Yep. I agree.” He wrenched the crowbar into the floorboard again.

“Dimitri, I think, maybe, you’re doing it wrong.” I tried to approach this lightly. “That’s going to ruin the wood.”

“That’s the point. I’m pulling it all up.”

I sighed. “What for?” I started toward him now. I loved this porch.

“To let off some steam. Plus, you were with Jameson out here. I tried to let it go. But I’d rather not.”

“Let what go?” I stared at him, beads of sweat rolling down his temples now, saw how his muscles flexed as he stood up to face me and really look me over as I asked the question slowly one more time.

“He kissed your cheek on this porch, Honeybee.”

“Dimitri.” I said his name softly, not knowing if I should even be entertaining the idea of consoling him. “It was a kiss on the cheek as a frien—”

“Yep,” he blurted out. Then he threw the crowbar down. “I saw your soft skin being touched by his fucking—”

“Okay.” My love for him and the way he loved me settled deep in me with the look of frustration he had on his face. For me. All for me. “So you were definitely watching the cameras again?”

“Of course I was! And through the doorbell.” He pointed behind him. “I watched. You’re damn right I did.”

“I feel like you should apologize for spying on me.”

“I feel like you should apologize for being with someone other than your future husband.”

My mouth opened. Then I closed it. He took that moment to grab the crowbar and crank the tool into the wood again. It snapped in half, splintering into a bunch of jagged pieces.

“Maybe we should take a step back.” We needed to hash out our feelings, get through the next few weeks, and try to understand where all this was going. “We need to be mature about all this. We can stop sleeping together and discuss—"

“We’re sleeping together right after I finish redoing this porch.” He grunted like it was an absolute sure thing. So sure of us that I actually smiled, because there was no question in how he felt about me or how I felt about him now.

Even still, I squeaked out, “The whole porch? I’m pretty sure you’re not finishing that today.” Did the man know anything about manual labor? “It would take a whole team of very hot men sweating all around this house of yours to redo the porch, which, by the way, I’m not at all against, but we should plan for that before ruining the perfectly good porch that we have here.”

He made ahasound, and I thought he liked my joke at first. But then, his laugh became somewhat sinister as he cranked on another board and then another before he stood again and wiped his brow. There was something in his eye that I couldn’t quite place as he nodded to the screen door behind me.

“No other men will be helping you around this house. Ever. You and me, we can do it all ourselves. Together.”

Then he got up and marched into the house. I followed him, not sure if our conversation was over.

He grabbed a bag from the bathroom cabinet and threw it on the bed where I was standing. “We need to build a safe home with safe people around, Olive, and you want to know why?”

I stared at the bag for a moment and my heart started to thump. “Why?”

“For our kid.” He pointed to my belly. “Go take the test in that bag.”

“What?” I frowned at the bag and then opened it to peer in. I stumbled back. He couldn’t be serious. “That’s not possible, Dimitri.”