Free Reckless Hearts by Melody Grace

just about the bricks and mortar. When you find someone a new
home, you’re giving them a piece of the dream they have about
their life,” I explain. “You know, the yard their kids
are going to play in, the porch they’ll sit on in retirement.
Even if all they want is a studio apartment somewhere they can afford
where the landlord isn’t a total asshole, and the water won’t
run cold, I can help make that happen. It’s a good feeling,
being a part of that.” I shrug, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Anyway, what about you? Have you been building your furniture
long?”
    “Nope.”
Will digs into his food, “But I needed a change. I always said
‘someday,’ and then I woke up and realized, if not now,
when?”
    “It’s
the first day of the rest of your life,” I quip, and he
chuckles.
    “Something
like that.”
    “So
is Oak Harbor everything you imagined?” I ask.
    He
holds my gaze, green tonight as the ocean waves. “Everything.
And more.”
    I
look away and focus on inhaling my food. It turns out all those
butterflies dancing in my stomach work up quite an appetite, and I
demolish my plate in no time at all.
    “Ready
to kick some mini-golf ass?” I ask, gesturing for the check.
The sun is setting over the distant bay, painting the sky with pastel
shades of pink and orange. It’s too romantic to be sitting
here, watching the water together; the rowdy course is a much safer
bet.
    “Them
be fighting words,” Will teases.
    The
girl brings over our bill, and I take it automatically. “I’ve
got this.”
    “No
ma’am.” Will says firmly, reaching for his wallet.
    “It’s
fine,” I insist. The less like a traditional date this is, the
better. “I said I was taking you to dinner as a thank you for
helping break into my car. You can get dessert,” I add, nodding
to the ice cream cabinet.
    Will
looks at me, amusement suddenly crinkling the corner of his green
eyes. “You think I’m broke.”
    “I
didn’t say that. It’s fine,” I add quickly. “It’s
none of my business.” My mother taught me never to talk about
money. At least, not when you’re pretty sure you earn three
times what your date does.
    But
Will is still smirking at me with that illegally handsome face of
his. He leans back and tosses a fry into his mouth in a lazy arc.
“You think I’m a no-good deadbeat who’s going to
stick you with the check when we’re through.”
    “You
live in a shack in the woods with no running water,” I point
out, trying to be delicate. “The night I met you, you didn’t
have a quarter for the phone, and you drive around here in a beat-up
old truck that hasn’t seen the inside of an auto shop in twenty
years.”
    Will
laughs out loud.
    “Like
I said, it’s none of my business.” I smile back,
relieved. At least he doesn’t have an attitude about it like
some guys I’ve dated, the ones who take it as a personal insult
on their manhood if you even offer to go Dutch. “We can still
have fun. I take care of myself.”
    “I’m
sure you can, darling. But I plan on taking care of the both of us.”
He gives me a smoldering look, so I can’t miss the double
meaning in his words. Heat slips into my bloodstream, and I can’t
help but imagine just what else that mouth can do.
    “And
just so you know, that shack in the woods is on a hundred prime
acres, and I own it free and clear.” Will adds casually,
getting to his feet. “That truck belonged to my granddaddy,
he’s the one who taught me to service it myself every month. As
for not having a quarter for the phone, well, it just happened I
didn’t have any change for a hundred that night.”
    Before
I can react, Will reaches casually for his wallet, pulls out a thick
roll of cash, and peels off a fifty dollar bill. “Keep the
change, darlin’.” He winks at the waitress, and she
flushes bright red, scurrying off with her epic tip. Will offers a
hand to me. “Shall we?”
    I
stare up at him blankly, still thrown.
    “You never asked what I