2. Mackenna

2

MACKENNA

" A re those what I think they are?" Justin asks, grinning as he rolls his chair over and reaches for the container of freshly baked cookies I just set down on the desk in our office.

I intercept him, pulling the container out of his reach. "Sorry, Justin. These aren't for us. I made them for Reid, to make amends for Daisy's antics yesterday."

Justin's mouth falls into a straight line. "You couldn't have made extra?"

"What am I, a cookie factory?"

"Jeez. I'm sorry for liking your cookies." He gives me his best puppy-dog eyes. "Can't I just have one ? It's not like he'll notice."

I sigh and pry open the container, thrusting it toward him. "Fine. Take one."

I don't feel great about letting Justin take one of Reid's peace-offering cookies, but it's better than dealing with him being mopey all day. When Justin's in a bad mood, it affects his work, and I rely on him to keep the sanctuary running smoothly. He's my only employee.

"So what's this guy like, anyway?" Justin asks as he chews a bite of cookie.

I picture the man I met yesterday, his six-foot-plus muscular frame igniting a warm feeling in my lower stomach. There's nothing hotter than a scowling man covered in dirt and sweat, and my new neighbor fit the bill to a tee. Okay, I didn't love how standoffish he was toward Daisy, but his reaction was understandable, and I bet if I showed him why I do the work that I do, he might see things differently. Or at least that's my hope.

"He's…rugged," I tell Justin. Thoughts of Reid's robust biceps engulf my mind, especially the way his t-shirt strained over his muscles. I clear my throat, pressing my fingers over the lid of the cookie container, making sure it's sealed tight. "He's renovating the house on the hill. His brother was also there helping out. That's really all I know so far."

"So far? What, are you planning on befriending this guy?"

My lips flatten at Justin's jealous tone. It's no secret that he has feelings for me. I've made it as clear as possible that I only see him as a friend, but he can't seem to get over it.

"He's our new neighbor, Justin," I say. "I want to be on friendly terms with him."

Justin shrugs, shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth, and turns back to the monitor that displays live feeds from the surveillance cameras installed across the sanctuary grounds. I'm annoyed at Justin's behavior, but I don't have time to deal with it right now. I have an endless number of tasks to take care of around the sanctuary, and I want to run the cookies over to Reid before I get to work.

"I'll be back soon," I say, grabbing the container and my walkie-talkie.

"Yup," Justin says cooly.

I can hear the sharp crack of wood splintering as I approach the dilapidated house on the hill, a sound that makes my heart race with anticipation at seeing Reid again.

But it's the grunting that really undoes me.

Outside his front door, I pause, listening to the deep, masculine grunt he lets out moments before another crash booms inside and more wood violently fractures. From the sound of it, he's working alone today, without his brother's help. My thighs warm, and I feel the urge to keep listening to him work, but I raise my hand and knock on the weathered door.

"It's open!" he yells.

I push open the creaky door and step inside, the scent of dust and old wood immediately hitting me. The inside of the house is just as much of a mess as it was when I was here yesterday. I follow the sound of Reid's laboring and find him in what used to be the house's living room. He's standing in the middle of the room with a sledgehammer in hand, looking out of breath, his shirt clinging to his chest.

He turns to look at me, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "Oh. It's you."

"I brought you some cookies," I say, holding out the container. "To apologize for Daisy causing trouble yesterday."

He studies me for a moment before setting down his sledgehammer and walking over. His hands almost brush mine as he takes the cookies. "Not necessary. But thanks."

"They're vegan," I say, smiling.

He breathes out a quiet laugh. "Of course they are."

"Also," I say, pulling a small scrap of paper from my pocket, "here's my phone number, in case you ever need to get ahold of me."

"Right. Yeah, that'd be good to have. I'll, uh…give you mine, too." He clears his throat. "So, you run some kind of animal sanctuary?"

I brighten at his question. "Yep. We take in all sorts of animals—exotic pets people can't handle, injured wildlife, you name it. We rehabilitate them and, if possible, release them back into the wild. For those that can't return to their natural habitats, we offer a permanent, safe home. The non-releasable animals serve as ambassadors for wildlife conservation, helping to educate the public. Daisy, for instance, plays an important role in teaching people about issues with the exotic animal trade."

"I see."

"I'd love to give you a tour of the sanctuary sometime," I say. "I know you're busy working on this house, but when you're in need of a break…"

He shrugs, clearly uninterested in the tour. "Maybe some other time. We'll see."

I feel a pang of disappointment, but I keep my smile in place. "Sure, no problem. I'll leave you to it, then."

I turn to leave, bummed that this visit didn't go as I hoped it might. I guess it was wishful thinking, hoping that I could get on friendly terms with Reid. It seems like he just wants to be left alone.

But as I walk toward the door, Reid's voice calls after me.

"I could help reinforce Daisy's enclosure, if you want."

The smile that had fallen from my lips returns. I turn around to face him and push up the side of my glasses. "You'd do that?"

"If it means keeping that monkey in check, then yes."

Reid comes over to the sanctuary the following afternoon, the sound of his truck rumbling up the sanctuary's gravel driveway with purpose. I'm cleaning out the macaw enclosure when he arrives, and the vibrantly colored birds start squawking when they hear Reid's truck, calling out at the top of their lungs, "Visitor! Visitor! We have a visitor!"

With jittery energy, I put away the broom I was using to sweep the floor and make my way out of the enclosure to greet Reid in the parking area at the sanctuary's entrance. Today he's wearing beat-up jeans, dirty boots, and a faded blue work shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his muscular forearms. Despite his rugged appearance, his blue eyes shine. He looks worn out from the labor he's already done today, but also ready to make good on his offer.

"Daisy's enclosure is this way," I say, greeting him with a smile as I point toward the trees on the west side of the property.

Reid grabs a metal toolbox from his truck and walks with me, saying nothing as we make our way through the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches above. When we reach our destination, he takes in the sight of the large enclosure and finally speaks. "This is all for one monkey?"

"Yep. I like to give the animals plenty of space." I smile. "Although, obviously, Daisy can't help her curiosity about what's beyond the boundaries. Here, I'll show you where she escaped."

I lead him over to the area of the fence behind a bush that Daisy managed to pry apart without my noticing.

"I thought this fencing was secure, but as you can see, I underestimated Daisy's determination. I patched it up, but I'm concerned it's going to happen again."

Reid nods. "You need a heavier gauge mesh. We can also install an electric wire along the perimeter to deter her from trying to escape."

I scoff. "I'm not installing an electric wire. That's cruel."

"It's not meant to hurt her. One little zap and she'll learn to stay away."

"No. Not going to happen. Installing heavier-duty fencing should be enough."

"Fine. I'll run into town and pick up the materials we need."

"I'll come with you," I say.

"You don't need to."

"Actually, I do. I need to pay for it if I'm writing it off as a business expense."

"Fine. Let's go."

As we walk back to Reid's truck, I can't help but feel annoyed at how this is going so far. I thought this would be an opportunity for us to connect, but it's obvious that Reid isn't interested in that.

When I open up the passenger door of his truck, I find a jumble of tools and various odds and ends in the way.

"Sorry," Reid says, quickly sweeping the items out of the way. "I don't usually have a passenger."

I climb into the seat, not minding the mess. From what I've seen of Reid so far, this is what I expected his truck to be like—dirty and practical.

Desperate to find out more about my new neighbor, I peer over at him as he drives us away from the sanctuary with a single hand firmly gripping his steering wheel.

"So what are your plans for the house?" I ask.

"Nothing fancy," he says, keeping his focus on the road. "Don't worry. It won't be an eyesore."

I smile. "I wasn't worried about that. Will it just be you living there, or…?"

His eyes slide over to me before snapping back to the road. "Yup. Just me."

"Nice. That means you can make everything exactly how you want it to be."

He nods.

"I live in a tiny house on the sanctuary grounds," I continue. "It's the first and only place I've ever had all to myself. I didn't realize how nice living alone would be until I experienced it."

"I'm used to living alone," Reid says. "I've got an apartment in town."

"Does your brother live in town, too?"

"Shaw? Yeah. He owns a bakery on Main Street. I've got a brother up in Seattle, too. His name is Jake."

"Oh? Cool."

He glances over again. "You have family around here?"

"No. It's just me."

Silence falls between us, and I feel an urge to tell him why I'm on my own. But I don't. I just shift in my seat and smile at him and say, "So what did you think of the cookies?"

"They weren't bad," he says, hitting his turn signal. "I mean, they were good. You should give some advice to my brother. He tried to make some vegan stuff for his bakery and it tasted like cardboard smothered in glue."

I laugh. "I'd be happy to give him some tips."

It's not much, this brief conversation of ours, but it's something. It's progress. And it gives me hope that maybe, with time, Reid and I can become friends—a prospect that fills my guarded heart with an inkling of warmth. Because despite all the times I've been let down by people, I still long for human connection. I still yearn for that elusive bond that so many other people on this earth seem to have found.

I steal another glance over at Reid, a happy nervous feeling twinkling inside me.

"What?" he asks, catching me looking at him.

"Nothing," I say, pressing my lips together and turning my gaze out the windshield.