Nailed

by Jennifer Laurens

  His eyes moved out over the horizon, at the mountains on the other side of the lake, at the sun just starting to spread light into the valley. “I used to go to the bookstore in search of something. But this time I knew what I wanted wasn’t going to be there.”

  A knot formed in Mandy’s throat. She didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure what he meant, and didn’t dare think he was speaking metaphorically.

  “I always know what I want when I go,” she said. She was sure her girlish fantasies were too ripe and twisted, and she needed to get back to reality. “I’ve memorized the home improvement section, so I know what’s there.

  I know what I’ve read, what I want to read, and what I have to read to get me where I want to go.”

  He smiled. “That’d be you, yeah. Set your course and stay on it. How did you get so settled?”

  “There’s comfort in things conventional.”

  “True.” He nodded, his smile dissolving into taut lines.

  “And security.”

  “You’re kind of like that, aren’t you? I mean, you study about ways to invest. You own a fourplex that you live in. You’ve got a great job, even if it’s not your dream job. That’s not a guy who throws caution to the wind.”

  He dipped his head a moment. “Not about financial things, that’s for sure.”

  “Ah. But your heart’s another story, right?”

  When his eyes met hers, there was a flash of guilt and sorrow but also a fresh spark. “What about you?” he asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you and your heart.”

  She cleared her throat. “My heart pretty much travels the same, conventional road my life does.”

  “So you don’t ever lose your head? Get swept up?

  Or tangled in anything?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Tangled doesn’t fit into my plan.”

  He laughed. “That’s good, I think.”

  “Cuts down on the drama, that’s for sure,” she said.

  “Drama,” he sighed.

  “You sound like you’re familiar with the term, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because you were a thespian in high school.”

  “Not a thespian, just a bad judge of the opposite sex.”

  “Oh.” He sounded so resigned. “Chronically?”

  He laughed. “Not chronically. Recently. That’s why I took that vow. I was sick of the drama, the games. The lies,” his voice was hard.

  Mandy nodded. The truck turned onto the empty stretch of road that led to the new housing developments, one of which was her father’s Homes by Haynes block. She wasn’t anxious to get there; she was enjoying the conversation too much, feeling like she was finally getting beyond the mystery. She’d only had carefully meted glimpses of this contemplative guy but what she was beginning to see was deep, gentle, sensitive and cautious to a fault, with a brittle temper.

  “So you’re giving yourself a break. I still think that’s a smart idea. Wounds need time to heal.” She heard him sigh and looked over in time to see frustration on his face.

  “Something wrong?”

  He squinted, looking at the vacant lots as they drove by. “Yeah. Actually, there is.”

  “Having second thoughts about her?”

  He shook his head, still not meeting her gaze. “No.

  That’ll never be a problem again.”

  “Wow, must have been pretty nasty. I’m sorry.”

  When he looked at her, it wasn’t with anything but truth. “I can tell that about you. I appreciate the honesty.”

  “Is it work? I can talk to Marc—”

  “I don’t think I can keep my vow.”

  Mandy’s eyes opened wide just as the truck pulled to a stop. Dust blew up around the wheels, and circled in the air. She heard the doors of the cab open, but her gaze was fixed on Boston’s face. There was no disguising what she saw coloring his eyes a deep, sober black, drawing his jaw into a knot. But her heart refused to believe it.

  The guys got out of the cab. Mandy wished time would stop so she could continue her conversation with Boston, but Marc, Larry, and A.J. came around to the back of the truck.

  Boston stood and held out a hand to her which she took before lifting to her feet.

  “Don’t think you can or don’t want to?” she asked.

  The hint of a smile was in his eyes. He leaned close enough that she knew he wanted to keep their discussion private. “That’s what’s cool about you. You say it like it is.”

  He turned and hopped down. Mandy stood statue-still in shock. Yeah, she said it like it was, but what was it?

  He held his hand up for her and she grasped it, easing herself down into the middle of the guys, all waiting to get to the storage chest and unload their belts and other tools. The chance to talk any more was lost in the expedited steps of getting set up and starting work.

  “Mand.” Marc slipped the skill saw strap over his shoulder. “You work with A.J and Charlie on finishing the inside walls. When you get to the second bath, A.J. will show you how to frame in the tub and shower. Charlie, you can keep on keeping on with the interior walls of bedroom one and two.”

  Mandy nodded. Marc and Larry took off for the second floor. Larry’s boombox hung from his right hand.

  A.J. pulled his red bandana out of his pocket and wrapped it around his head, his green eyes crinkling into a smile. “Feeling better today, baby doll?”

  Boston was still adjusting his tool belt, so Mandy was sure he heard the conversation, even though he was intently buckling. “Feeling fine, thanks.”

  “Had me worried Friday night.” A.J. finished knotting the bandana. “You’re a delicate little thing.” He reached out a finger and traced it from her shoulder blade down to her wrist just in time for Boston to notice.

  “Me?” Her laugh fluttered out.

  “Yeah, you.” A.J.’s smile deepened. “You can’t be anymore than, what, a size three? That pretty little sundress you wore was something else.” A.J.’s glittering expression was a mix of genuine pleasure and teasing.

  Boston looked like he was about ready to say something, but he didn’t.

  “Thanks, A.J. I’m glad you liked it.”

  A.J. started toward the house. “Let’s get to work.”

  He jerked his head at the structure. Mandy glanced at Boston, catching the faintest twitch in his tight jaw before she followed A.J.

  Upstairs the mood wasn’t any more comfortable, and Larry’s rough music seemed to stir the electric vibe into a frenzy. She started out with Boston in bedroom number three, framing in the walls and closet. Next to them, A.J. constructed the insides of bedroom number two.

  Across the floor in the master bedroom, Marc and Larry laughed and hammered like usual, Larry denying his three nights and two days with Samantha meant anything, Marc lamenting over his loss of a guru even though he’d won the pot of money in the bet over Larry’s women. Every now and then Mandy looked up and found A.J. glancing over, or caught Boston’s gaze on her.

  Once, both men caught her at the same time, and she smiled and started to sweat.

  “So,” Mandy began because Boston hadn’t said anything except work talk since they’d started. “What do you think of Larry’s fall from grace?”

  “Is that what it is?” His tone was wry.

  “He spent the last three days with one woman, what would you call it?”

  “That’s about as fallen as it gets,” A.J. said from a few feet away. The framed walls didn’t allow for private conversations.

  “Sounds like it to me.” Mandy shot a nail into a stud to secure the middle support.

  A.J. finished one section of wall and started on the next. “You admitting defeat, Larry?” he called.

  Larry looked over and lifted his shoulders. “Can’t help it, man. I know when I’ve been had.”

  “Lucky dog,” Marc scowled.

  Mandy enjoyed the light teasing. “What are you complaining about? You won the pot. What’s she like, Lar?”

&nb
sp; Larry didn’t say anything, so Marc piped, “Oh, baby.

  Hotter than a XR.”

  “So you think this is it?” Mandy asked. “The real thing?”

  “Heck no.” Larry laughed and Marc joined in. “But it’s good enough for now.”

  Mandy frowned and caught Boston watching her.

  “What?” he asked, voice low enough that Marc and Larry wouldn’t hear. She wasn’t sure about A.J., he was just on the other side of the framed-in wall.

  “It’s just so shallow.”

  Boston centered a piece of wood in the frame.

  “Yeah, it is. But maybe she’s just as shallow.”

  “True. I can’t see Larry with anybody too deep, that would be like trying to build a foundation on sand—you can’t do it.”

  Boston looked over, studied her. “You’re right. But I don’t think Larry’s after something sturdy.”

  She was glad they were talking. She liked hearing his take on things. The sun was creeping toward noon and the heat was intensifying. Sweat beaded at the sides of his face.

  “Sometimes it’s not about sturdy,” A.J. said. Mandy and Boston looked through the wood slats at him, a few feet away, kicking sawdust from where he was standing.

  “Sometimes it’s just about having a good time.” He looked at Boston. “Right?”

  “As long as it’s fair,” Boston said.

  “Oh,” A.J. chuckled. “I don’t play any other way.”

  One corner of Boston’s lip lifted. “Neither do I.”

  “I’m glad you two are thoughtful that way,” Mandy interjected. “I don’t know any woman who starts into a relationship hoping to get used and tossed like a Dixie cup.”

  A.J.’s teeth sparkled. “You know just the right things to say, don’t you, baby doll.” He backed to the wall he was working on. “That’s what makes you adorable.”

  Mandy took the flattery with a tilt of her head and a smile. “Thank you.” Suddenly, the air steamed. She fanned her face with both hands and closed her eyes.

  “Whew, it’s getting hot. Don’t you think it’s getting hot?”

  “Heat never bothered me,” A.J.’s comment was easy, just like his shrug.

  Boston sauntered back to the wall they were in the middle of constructing. “I do my best work in the heat.”

  Mandy’s wide eyes flicked from one man to the other. “Think I’ll get a drink. Either of you want one?”

  “I’ll take a water.” A.J. resumed work.

  “You?” Mandy waited for Boston’s gaze to meet hers. He shook his head.

  Mandy headed downstairs. Surely this couldn’t be about her. It seemed ridiculous, yet she’d seen enough soap operas, read enough books, and even some of her friends had been caught in the middle of triangles the likes of Bermuda. In the middle of the taut frenzy just wasn’t somewhere she ever thought she’d find herself.

  She took two bottles back up, wondering if the sticky mood would still be there.

  “Thanks.” A.J took a bottle. He’d taken off his shirt while she was gone and slung it over the ledge of a framed-in window. His gaze swept her shoulders, then her legs before slowly coming up to her face. “You’re getting nice color.”

  “Am I?” She held her arms out and peered. “Finally.”

  “Why is it women think they have to be tan?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. For me, it’s this battle I’ve had with the sun since I was a little kid. Like I have to prove I can be something other than red. Or white. I can tan.” She laughed.

  “I figured it wasn’t about being like every other sun worshipper out there.” A.J. screwed the lid back on his bottle. “You’re too smart for that.”

  “If I was smart, I’d give the sun the victory and wave a white towel. I can’t help it, though. I like the heat. It makes me feel good.”

  The light in A.J.’s eyes darkened, sending a twist of something fast and hot down her gut. “Heat stays with you,” he said, voice raspy. “Leaving its brand, right?”

  “Leaving its burn is more like it.” Boston came up beside her, challenge in his eyes aimed first at A.J. then sliding to her. “But then you’re smart enough to wear plenty of protection.”

  “Of course she is,” A.J. said. “She can take care of herself.”

  “I know when to get in the shade,” Mandy put in, on the verge of laughing at the simile the three of them were tossing around like a beach ball.

  Boston wiped the hem of his shirt over his face.

  “Sometimes the shade’s not even safe enough.” When their eyes met, he crossed his arms and tugged his shirt up and over his head, keeping her gaze locked with his.

  Mandy’s heart bounced at the provocative move.

  She tingled when he bunched his tee shirt between his hands, staring unblinkingly at her.

  “I think we stopped talking about the ill effects of sun exposure about fifteen seconds ago,” she squeaked.

  Boston grinned and A.J. broke out in a warm laugh.

  Mandy held out her hand. “Let me fold that for you.”

  The black flecks in Boston’s eyes flickered. Mandy felt the touch of his skin reach out and warm her all the way to her toes when he handed her the shirt. Rather than move away so she had the distance she needed to fold it, she turned just enough so she could shake the shirt out, then folded it neatly into a square before handing it back.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  “Baby doll.”

  Mandy tore her gaze away from Boston and looked at A.J. He ticked his head toward the room they were supposed to frame next. “Let’s get to work in this bathroom.” He winked.

  chapter eleven

  For lunch they piled into the truck and headed into town. Mandy argued that, since she’d missed on Friday, it was her day to pick a dining spot. Marc grumbled at the use of the word dining and warned her that if she took them back to another bookstore, he’d make her eat wood chips.

  “Besides,” Marc eyed her, “You’ll have to wait in the car. You can’t go in any place looking like that.”

  “I’ll throw on a company shirt!”

  Mandy went purely with her craving: Taco Bell fit the budget and was close enough that they wouldn’t spend the hour driving.

  As with most fast food places during peak lunch hour, Taco Bell was no less crowded than the next place.

  Mandy took her Nacho Bellgrande and Pepsi and sat at the first empty table she could find.

  A.J. joined her with his tray of five crispy tacos and giant soda. He slid into the Formica booth and sat across from her. “I like it when you pick.”

  “I had to have Taco Bell today.”

  A.J. tugged the paper sleeve off his straw. “Cravings are hard to ignore.”

  Something about the sandy tone in his voice made her throat go dry. She reached for her Pepsi. She watched Boston come to the table with his plastic bowl of taco salad and a bottle of water.

  She eyed his food. “Don’t you ever succumb?”

  He sat next to her and their shoulders brushed. “To what?” He twisted the top off his water bottle and drank.

  “To temptation, to eating what you feel like?”

  “I do eat what I feel like,” he grinned. “And, I’ve given in to temptation plenty in my life.” He yanked the plastic sleeve off of his fork/spoon. “What about you, A.J.?”

  A.J.’s jaw churned. He swallowed. “You betcha.” His eyes sparkled with teasing. “Bet you don’t, though do ya, baby doll?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “What tempts you?”

  Mandy’s cheeks flushed. Over A.J.’s shoulder, Marc and Larry took their orders to an empty table on the other end of the dining room. “Food,” she said, then popped a corn chip laden with cheese and meat into her mouth.

  “And books?” Boston asked.

  “And books. Boring, huh. Safe though, and I’ve always liked safe.”

  “You keep it like that and you’ll stay out of trouble.”


  A.J. picked up his second taco.