Page 3 of Trophy

Her grandmother’s house was a three-bedroom brick ranch on an acre of property in Fielding, North Carolina, population four thousand.

Vicki had hired a car service to drive Allison and her possessions to the house the following day, something Allison greatly appreciated, since she didn’t want to start eating into her meager savings already.

She’d never known her grandmother very well—only seeing her maybe once every two years, since there had been some sort of big blowup between her father and grandmother before she was born—but Allison still felt a wave of nostalgia as she walked into the house.

The house smelled like her grandmother and like her parents in their last few years. She missed them.

She didn’t have any family left alive. She wondered what it would feel like to have someone other than a friend to rely on now.

She brushed the thought away as she looked around the house.

It opened into a dining room with a connected kitchen.

The living room was to the left, and the hall with the bedrooms was to the right.

The renters had cleaned it before they’d left to get back their deposit, so it was in pretty decent shape, although the hardwood floors were worn, the kitchen was twenty years old, and the toilet in the bathroom would only occasionally stop running, which was very annoying.

The furniture her parents had left was still stored in the basement, so Allison would have to try to bring it up. Vicki would have helped by hiring some movers, but Allison would rather take care of things on her own.

She tried to feel hopeful as she thanked the driver for helping her bring in the luggage and signed the ticket, but what she really felt was helpless. She didn’t even have hangers to put all her clothes on, and they would never all fit into the small closets in the bedrooms.

After moving the luggage into the bedrooms and looking in the basement to see what was there, she decided she needed to go to the store and buy some basics like clothes hangers and garbage bags.

There was a small grocery store in town, but the one Walmart in the county was in a town fifteen minutes away.

That was probably the first thing she should do.

She had the money from Arthur as well as what she’d saved from the year’s worth of rent on this house, but it was going to disappear fast.

She had the appointment with the dentist’s office tomorrow morning at nine. She didn’t know if it was an interview or just to pick up an application, but either way she was planning to be there right on time.

Maybe that would work out. If it didn’t, she would have to find a different job. Her savings weren’t going to last for long.

Two hours later she pulled her father’s old tank of a Cadillac back into her driveway. She’d tried to be careful at the store, but her trunk was filled and she’d spent way too much money.

Plus, Walmart had been packed on a Sunday.

It was four in the afternoon, and she was exhausted. It was early May, but the air was hot and humid today, and she was sweating in her sleeveless top.

She was leaning over into the trunk to gather up as many bags as she could carry when she was startled by a voice behind her. “You need some help?”

She straightened up with a jerk, turning to see a man beside her wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt.

He looked to be in his thirties. He needed to shave and his brown hair was too long, and he had the rough look of a man who worked with his hands.

He’d surprised her so much she just stared at him. “What?”

“Do you need some help?” he asked again, gesturing toward her trunk. “Carrying all that in?”

She frowned. Who the hell was this guy? And did she really look so helpless that she couldn’t unload her own trunk by herself? “Oh. No. I’ll be okay. Thank you.” Several bags were already hooked over her arms, so she gave him an absent smile and turned to walk up the steps to the front door.

She had some trouble getting her key into the door with the bags on her wrist, but she’d almost gotten the door unlocked when she suddenly felt someone behind her, swinging open the storm door that had been propped against her back.

She gave a little squeal of surprise as she turned to see the man she thought she’d dismissed. He had twice as many bags hooked over his arms as she was able to carry.

“I’m Rob West,” he said with a slight mountain drawl in his deep voice. “I’m your neighbor across the street.”

She felt flustered now and annoyed that a strange man was walking into her house as if she’d invited him. “Okay, but I said I could get the bags by myself.”

“I was already over here. Why shouldn’t I help?”

Because she’d said she didn’t need his help. Any basically civil person would have respected her wishes. She really hoped everyone wasn’t as rude and pushy as this man was.

“Where’s all your furniture?” Rob asked, looking around the empty house after he’d dumped his load of bags on her kitchen counter.

“It’s in the basement. I just got here today.”

He focused his gaze on her, looking her up and down. His eyes were actually quite nice—a really deep, melting brown. “Are you Chris and Sharon’s girl?”

She was startled by the question but then realized that if he lived across the street, he’d probably known her parents. “Yes.”

“I though you lived in the city.” He glanced down at her left hand, and she realized he was looking for a wedding ring.

She’d taken off her rings a year ago. “I’m moving here now.”

He nodded slowly, as if trying to piece together her situation, something he had no business knowing. “Well, welcome to town. I’ll get the rest of your stuff.”

“I don’t need any—” she began.

He ignored her, striding back outside as if she hadn’t spoken. Arthur had done that all the time—completely disregarded what she was trying to say. She hated it.

Rob might be a small-town, blue-collar guy, but he obviously wasn’t all that different from Arthur at heart.

He came back into the house a minute later with another huge load of bags.

She couldn’t help but notice he had really good shoulders, and his biceps were impressive, clearly visible beneath his shirtsleeves as he held the bags.

He set them on the opposite counter and then turned to look at her.

“That’s it from the car. Do you want me to haul some stuff up from the basement for you?

You at least need a chair or two and a bed. ”

“I’m fine,” she said, managing to smile although she really wanted to scowl at him. “Thank you.”

He frowned. “You can’t get it all up yourself. Do you have some guys who are coming to help?”

Now she frowned too. “I said I was fine. Thank you.”

“What are you all snippy about?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

She gave a sharp gasp of indignation at his clueless rudeness. “I’m snippy,” she bit out, “because I’ve said several times that I’m fine, and yet you refuse to listen to me.”

His expression relaxed into almost a smile, as if he’d finally figured out her mood. “Oh, I get it. I’m not some creepy asshole, so no need to worry about that. I live across the street. I knew your folks. I figured you could use some help, especially since you’re all dressed up and everything.”

She looked down at herself in surprise. “I’m not dressed up!” She wore a sleeveless pale blue top, black capris, and sandals. The sandals had heels on them, but almost all of her shoes had heels. In terms of her wardrobe, these clothes were very casual.

He chuckled—a surprisingly pleasant sound. “Okay. If you say so.”

Allison heard a familiar sound just then. That damned toilet was running again, after she’d spent five minutes jiggling the handle before she left.

Rob must have heard the sound and seen her expression. “Sounds like it just needs a new flapper. I can look at it for you.” He actually turned around and took a step toward the bathroom.

“That’s okay,” Allison said quickly, relieved when he stopped at her words. “I’m sure I can take care of it.”

He turned to face her again, clearly disbelieving her, but fortunately he didn’t argue. “There’s a hardware store in town— just a block down from Dora’s. You can get a new flapper, and they can talk you through replacing the old one.”

There he was, assuming she’d need help again, based on nothing but her appearance. He could have no idea whether she was capable of fixing a toilet, and he shouldn’t make assumptions.

She didn’t like this guy at all. She really wanted him to leave.

She took a deep breath, making sure her voice was polite as she said, “I appreciate your help, and it was nice to meet you.”

“You really don’t mean that, do you?” he drawled, an irresistible half smile on his face.

She narrowed her eyes. “I’d like to unpack my bags now.”

“Got it,” he said, still smiling as if privately amused. “I’ll see you around.”

Finally he turned to leave. Allison was very glad to see him go, and it wasn’t because her eyes drifted down to his very nice ass as he walked away.