Free Welcome to the Dream (A Celeste Cross Book, #1) by Odette C. Bell

to
take off his shirt. After all, he'd just met Celeste, and she might
get the wrong impression, or maybe the right impression. But,
whatever it was, it was an impression he couldn't afford to give
right now, because he was serious – he couldn't get
distracted.
    Plus, honestly, he'd only
just met the girl.
    As he was clearing up the large
chunks of wood, chucking them into a pile at the base of the tree,
Celeste popped her head around the corner of the house. ‘Do you
know where your aunt kept the window cleaner? I looked under the
sink, but it wasn't there.’
    Jack wiped the sweat off his
brow with the back of his hand. ‘It's on top of the wardrobe in the
lounge room, I think.’
    ‘ Of course it is, that makes so
much sense.’
    ‘ My aunt doesn't like to make
sense.’ He stretched his shoulders and grinned at her.
    ‘ Neither does my mother, that's
probably why they get on so well,’ Celeste said as she disappeared
back around the side of the house.
    He finished dealing with the
smaller pieces of wood, stowed the chainsaw in the shed, and walked
into the house. When he did, it was to the sight of Celeste with a
chair pressed up against the wardrobe, leaning as far as she could,
hand scrabbling on top of it as she tried to grab the window
cleaner.
    Just as he walked into the
room, a bare foot slipped off the chair, and she teetered
backwards.
    Jack rushed up just as she
fell off.
    He caught her, arms wrapping
around her middle, pressing up and into her chest.
    It was definitely a
distracting feeling.
    He straightened up, took a step
back, and noted that her cheeks were flaming red. ‘Well, sorry, I
mean thank you,’ Celeste said quickly, turning to give a mutinous
look at the chair.
    ‘ They can be pretty slippery.’
Jack grabbed the chair and took it back to the kitchen. ‘You all
right?’
    ‘ I didn't manage to get the
window cleaner,’ she answered, dodging his question.
    He chuckled as he walked
back into the room and over to the wardrobe. He leaned up, fumbled
around, and grabbed it. Then he handed it to her.
    ‘ You know, it must be so nice to
be tall,’ she noted as she took it from him.
    Her cheeks were starting to
calm down again. Her breath wasn't as fast either, and her chest
now rested lightly against her crossed arms.
    ‘ It has its advantages,’ Jack
agreed as he glanced to the side. There was a box pushed up against
the wardrobe.
    Celeste turned to see what he
was looking at. ‘It was on top of the wardrobe, I grabbed it off
first. Pretty much breaking my back while doing it, because it is
so damn heavy.’
    Jack leaned down and pulled
off the lid.
    It was full of his dad's
things. Documents, photos, postcards, and letters.
    He yanked it towards him,
grabbing up the first document on top. Turning it over, he saw his
dad's memorable cursive handwriting.
    ‘ Is it important? Sorry, I didn't
mean to—’ Celeste began.
    Jack straightened up, letting
his arm drop, the letter brushing by his side. He shook his head.
‘No, I just haven't seen these in years. In fact, I thought I’d
chucked them out.’
    Celeste didn't say anything;
she simply stood there and watched him awkwardly.
    ‘ My day used to live here,’ Jack
explained. ‘It was his house. I gave it to Susie when he
died.’
    Celeste nodded. She still
looked awkward. He didn't blame her though; she was just
house-sitting, and she didn't need to hear his sob
story.
    After a moment, he leant
back down, dropped the letter into the box, and secured the lid on
top.
    ‘ You gave the house to Susie? Why
don't you live in it?’ As soon as Celeste started speaking, she
looked unsure, as if she regretted her words. ‘Sorry, that sounds
really personal. You don't have to answer that. Ignore
me.’
    ‘ It's fine. I didn't want to move
in . . . . I still technically own it though.
But it’s Susie's really.’
    Celeste nodded slowly. ‘Right.
So does that mean you're my landlord?’
    Though he hadn't been in the
mood seconds