Chapter 2

Chapter Two

R uby

The morning sun is just starting to filter through the trees as I approach the library. It's quiet, except for the steady rhythm of hammering and the occasional clink of metal against wood. The air smells like sawdust, fresh and sharp, and I can see Pope working at one of the beams, his broad back turned toward me.

My flats crunch lightly on the gravel, but I don't hesitate. I clutch the notebook in my hands, determined to make sure this library reflects what the community needs—not just whatever this grumpy carpenter thinks is best. I may be soft-spoken, but I'm not backing down, especially not after yesterday's confrontation. Pope might be used to people tiptoeing around him, but I'm not afraid to stand my ground.

I clear my throat as I get closer, watching as he straightens, clearly annoyed by the interruption. He's built like a damn mountain—broad shoulders, muscular arms flexing as he sets down his hammer and turns to face me, his expression already a mask of irritation.

"You again?" His voice is low, edged with frustration, but I don't flinch. Instead, I raise my chin slightly, meeting his glare with one of my own. I'm not here to back down, and he's going to learn that soon enough.

"You didn't think I'd give up after one visit, did you?" I quip, stepping closer. I glance around the site, taking in the progress he's made. The framework of the new research and reading room is starting to take shape, and I can't help but feel a spark of excitement for what this place will become. "Looks like you've been busy," I add with a slight smile.

Pope crosses his arms over his chest, blocking my path like a wall of muscle. "Busy trying to finish this project," he grumbles, his eyes narrowing as if daring me to challenge him again.

I'm tempted to push back, to let him know I'm not some random townie sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. But instead of firing back, I catch the small twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he's fighting the urge to smile. That tiny shift in his expression gives me just enough confidence to press on.

"Well, I'm here to make sure everything stays on track," I say, stepping around him to get a closer look at the half-built frame of the library room. I brush past him, our arms almost touching, and I can feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace. There's something charged in the air between us, and it's not just the tension from our argument yesterday.

"And to make sure you don't cut corners," I add, my voice teasing as I glance over my shoulder at him. I can tell by the way his jaw clenches that he's noticed the playful lilt in my tone, but instead of snapping back at me like I expect, he just watches me with those intense blue eyes, as if trying to figure out what I'm up to.

"I don't cut corners," Pope mutters, his voice gruff but lacking the sharp edge it had earlier. He's still irritated, but something in the way he looks at me has shifted. Like he's seeing me differently now. Not just as an annoyance but as someone who isn't going to let him get away with shutting me out.

I step closer to one of the beams, noticing that something seems off with the alignment. I crouch down, running my fingers along the base to check the foundation. Pope watches me silently, and I can feel his gaze on me, the weight of it making my heart beat faster for reasons I'm not entirely ready to admit.

I stand up, brushing the dust from my hands, and point to the spot I was inspecting. "You missed a spot," I say softly, my voice steady even though my pulse is racing. I glance up at him, a teasing smile playing on my lips. I don't know why I'm pushing him like this, but there's something about challenging Pope that's become… fun. Maybe even a little thrilling.

Pope stiffens, his muscles tensing as if he's trying to keep himself in check. His eyes darken slightly as they lock with mine, and for a moment, the air between us feels electric, like we're standing on the edge of something neither of us is willing to name yet.

"I don't miss spots," he mutters, but his voice sounds different this time—less sure, more like he's trying to convince himself than me. I raise an eyebrow, amused by how flustered he's becoming. It's strange seeing someone so composed and controlled unravel, even if just a little.

I hold his gaze, letting the silence stretch between us. It feels heavy, charged with something that's been simmering under the surface since the moment we met yesterday. He takes a small step back, like he needs the space to breathe, but I can tell by the way his eyes flicker over me that he's just as affected by this tension as I am.

Pope huffs, running a hand over his face like he's trying to shake off whatever just happened between us. "I've got work to do," he says gruffly, his tone a little too forced. He turns away, clearly trying to end the conversation, to push me away before either of us says or does something we'll regret. But I know this isn't over. Not by a long shot.

I watch him for a moment, a small smile tugging at my lips. Pope might be gruff and intimidating, but I'm starting to see past that rough exterior. He's more than just a carpenter; there's something deeper there, something I'm curious about. And I'm not backing down.

"Well, don't let me stop you," I say lightly, turning to leave, but I make sure to glance back at him one last time. "I'll be back to check on things. I want to make sure this library turns out right."

Pope doesn't respond, but I catch the way his shoulders tense, like he's bracing himself for the next round. I head back toward the entrance, already planning my next move. This library is important, sure, but Pope? He's quickly becoming a different kind of project. The Steele brothers are famous in Copper Mountain, but Pope is the first one I've officially met. They were all all-star football players, each of them handsome enough to be homecoming kings in their class, and all of them famous for their unwillingness to settle down–proud bachelors every one of them. And if they all have the same gruff manor as the man standing before me, I can see why.

As I walk away, I can still feel the tension crackling between us, like a live wire that's just waiting to spark. Whatever this is, it's not going away. And the more time I spend with Pope, the more I'm starting to think I don't want it to.