Either way, not my problem. Even though it kind of is since I’m the one here.
“You’re probably right,” I admit.
“Probably? I am right. And really, I don’t blame him. Think what this does for his ego.”
“Like his ego needs to be stroked.”
He chuckles. “I doubt that’s all she’s stroking.”
“Nice visual, Jake.” I groan.
The navigation system tells me to take a right. My tires hit a gravel road, and dust billows around both sides of my truck. The only sign of life is a slow-moving tractor in the middle of a field. Beyond it rises a hill that appears to touch the clouds. Trees cover the mound, creating a striking picture against the bright-blue sky.
“What’s the plan?” Jake asks.
“I went over everything this morning before I left home. All that’s really left are Meredith’s changes, unless I get on-site and see something’s wrong.” I work my neck back and forth. “I don’t see any reason why the house can’t be done before Dad’s retirement party next weekend or shortly thereafter.”
“And let me guess,” Jake says. “You’ll have to stay on-site the whole time.”
“Probably, but it’s just a few days. Two weeks max, and nothing should be affected in the office. Natalie has it squared away, and I can hopefully do a lot from here. I just told Dad I’d make sure it was perfect.”
“Sure,” he jokes. “That’s why. It has nothing to do with Liz, right?”
My stomach knots as my head hits the seat. I grab the knob to turn off the heater, but it’s not on. Shit.
I rub my forehead. “Believe it or not, I didn’t expect her to take our . . . See? I don’t even know what word to use to describe it.”
“She accidentally-on-purpose ran into me yesterday at the gym, and let’s just say she thought you were a lot more serious than you did.”
I groan. Jake doesn’t even try to mute his amusement.
“I’m so glad you find this funny,” I say.
“It’s funny because it’s you, not me, and it’s funnier because you say this every time. You’d think you’d learn.”
“Learn what?” I bark. “That I have to make it clear I don’t want to marry every woman I date? I do that. I lay out what I want, how I see things—all that shit. I set expectations. I couldn’t be clearer if I had them sign a contract.”
I swing the truck to the left, heading for the forested hill.
“Our father is an attorney. You could get one drawn up,” Jake says with a chuckle. “Or just stop screwing with the crazy ones.”
“The problem with that is you can’t always tell the crazy ones. I didn’t know Liz was nuts until I told her she wasn’t getting the cock anymore.” I ponder this. “Maybe it’s my cock that makes them crazy.”
Jake snorts. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s that. Hang on for a sec.”
He puts me on hold. I take a left and slide farther out of town, my mind drifting to Liz.
Liz did something that’s never happened before: she scared me. In all my escapades, I’ve never met a woman who behaved like she did. Who nodded and smiled as I told her what was up—that we could see each other when I was in town. Fuck around. Have dinner. I thought she was cool with that.
Turns out she wasn’t.
The way she sobbed when I told her our relationship had run its course was something I won’t soon forget. The tears. The heaving. The proclamations that she may never be okay again. As if it’s my fault she read entirely too much into every word I said and every action I took . . . except for the words and actions I meant for her to take to heart.
I’m used to women becoming attached. It happens. But I’m not used to that, and if she thinks she’s going to guilt me into spending time with her, she’s wrong. I don’t need an extra arm or a woman stuck to my side. The thought of either makes me want to jump over a cliff. Variety is the spice of life, and I like my life spicy. Like Haley. She’d give my life a bit of spice for a while, I bet.
“I’m back,” Jake says. “Shit hit the fan on the bridge project today. I’d stay out of here if I were you. I’m gonna go nuts this afternoon.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Will do.” I take in the greenery and solitude. “This is a good place to lie low. Slow down a bit.”
“You mean sleep with one at a time.”
“Believe it or not, I never get involved with more than one at a time. I do have morals, brother.”
“Good. I don’t,” he jokes. “But I do want to thank you.”
“Yeah? What for?”
“For dealing with the house so I don’t have to. Even if it was for selfish reasons.”
“Well, it was perfect timing. And even though it might’ve been a little selfish, I think I can save us some money. It’s quite possible sending the CFO of a construction company to a jobsite might not be the most asinine thing in the world.”
“You act like you don’t know anything about construction,” he scoffs. “You could’ve gotten your engineering degree instead of one in accounting and one in business administration. Then you could’ve taken over this side of things.”
I smack my lips together. “Anyone can manage a house. Only one of us, meaning me, can add. Someone had to do the hard stuff.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“True,” I say.
Jake laughs. “All right. Call me later and fill me in on the house, and make sure I don’t have a coronary after this management meeting today.”
I start to respond, but my attention is pulled to my mirrors. A little black car flies up behind me and rides so close to my bumper I can’t see it in my side mirrors. To repay the jerk behavior, I ease off the gas and slow my pace to a crawl.
The dust starts to settle as our speed decreases. The car behind me blares its horn.
“What’s going on over there?” Jake asks.
“Oh, some asshole just flew up . . . on . . . me . . .” I reach up and adjust my mirror. A slow smile splits my cheeks. “It’s her.”
“It’s who?”
“Her,” I say, shaking my head. “What the hell?”
“Liz? She followed you down there?”
“What?” I ask, the sound of Liz’s name shocking my system. “No. Not Liz. Haley.”
“I’m confused,” Jake admits. “Who’s Haley?”
My grin grows wider. “Oh, just a sweet-as-hell woman I met in the café this morning.”
“For fuck’s sake, Trev. You just got to town.”
“What can I say? Women love me.”
“You could say all the things you just said, like how you need to slow down,” he says, mocking me. “Or how you’re putting the brakes on your conquests.”
He continues to jabber on, but I tune out. Haley’s hair has been piled on top of her head. She’s biting a nail as she drifts back and noses into the other narrow lane to see if anything is coming. So I move my truck into the center of the road.
She honks.
I burst out laughing.
“I must’ve made an impression if she’s following me already,” I point out.
“You heard nothing I just said, did you?”
“Nope.”
“Go add to your fan club and call me this afternoon,” he says.
“Yeah. Will do. Later.”
I end the call before he says goodbye.
My navigation tells me to take a right in two hundred feet. In a small break in the tree line is a barrel. A white board is attached to the front, bearing the words KELLY JOBSITE.
Part of me wants to do what I came here to do: check out the house and get some fresh air. The other part of me, the one led by my groin, wants to pull over and see what Haley wants.
That side wins.
Before I can do that, her turn signal indicates she’s turning right too. And with no other lane in sight, it’s obvious we’re headed to the same place.
With a curious mind and a semihard cock, I pull into the driveway.
CHAPTER FOUR
TREVOR
Good God,” I mumble.
Dad’s house stands in front of me, towering over the valley from its perch at the top of the hill. Even in its incomplete state, it’s impressive, with arched windows affording what I’m certain is an incredible view. Over the solid, eight-foot door is a stained glass window that was custom made to Meredith’s specifications.
It’s over the top and ridiculous and, much to my chagrin, kind of awesome.
I pull my truck under a large pine tree next to a white pickup. Haley rolls to a stop behind me. It takes all of two seconds for her feet to hit the lawn. Her attention is momentarily redirected to a man leaning out a third-floor window, but snaps back to the truck in a hurry. She’s absolutely adorable with the little scowl that wrinkles her lips as she marches my way.
Her unpainted fingernail pecks on the tinted glass.
Leaning back in my seat, stretching my legs out in front of me, I watch the way the sun caresses her face. A gentleness shines from her deep-brown eyes that lends an air of vulnerability to her otherwise animated expression. Her full lips are twisted as if she can barely stop herself from speaking, and the memory of her incessant rambling in the café makes me chuckle.
She pecks again. As I roll the window down, I wonder if she’s always this amusing.
“What is wrong with you?” she asks. The question skips from her lips two seconds before she realizes who I am. Her eyes go wide, brows shooting to the sky, as two and two come together.
I grin. “Good to see you again too.”
“What are you doing here?”
“It looks like I’m being stalked.”
She steps away from the truck, a grin tickling her lips. “Oh, please.”
“Care to explain it another way?”
“If anyone is stalking anyone, it’s you stalking me,” she says.
I touch my fingertip to my temple as if I’m mulling that over. “Yeah, there’s a big problem with that theory, Ohio. I was at the café and this place first. That would make you following me. And if I remember correctly, you were kinda drooling over me this morning, which only lends truth to my hypothesis.”
Her cheeks flush in the sweetest shade of pink. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her skin to see if it’s warm, to feel the effect of my observation. Instead, I pick up a pen out of a cup holder and fiddle with it.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Thief,” she says. “Did you think that drool was for you?”
“You’re admitting you’re a drooler? That’s gross.”
She shrugs. “I’ve been known to get a little excited about a doughnut.”
“So I’ve seen.” I open the door and step onto the lawn. “Your enthusiasm for pastries knows no bounds.”
“You’re just jealous I didn’t get that excited over you.”
I lean closer, my heartbeat picking up at the proximity of our bodies. A slight gasp parts her lips.
“You’re so cute when you lie,” I whisper.
Her mouth is open to fire back a response when the man from the window joins us. He’s my height, well over six foot, and wears a carpenter’s belt and a disarming smile.
“I’m taking it you two know each other,” he says. He looks at me and extends a hand. “You must be Trevor.”
“I am. You must be Dane,” I say, giving his hand a firm shake.
“Nice to meet you,” Dane says. “Matt, my brother, the one you’ve been talking to this week, will be here shortly. He’s with our third hand, Penn, getting a few things from the lumberyard.”
Haley waves her hands in front of her. “Wait. Wait. Hold up. How do you two know each other?”
“Trevor is here from Nashville to inspect the house,” Dane explains. “This is going to be your dad’s place, right?”
“It is,” I say. “In case it’s not obvious, my father is going through a midlife crisis.”
Dane laughs, rubbing a hand over his head. “It doesn’t matter to me as long as he pays my invoices.”
“Lucky for you, my father’s wife is a bit of a diva. I have a stack of additional projects that will result in a lot more invoices for you.”
Haley cuts in. “Don’t mind me, but your father’s wife would be your stepmother, correct? Or am I missing something?”
“I have a hard time calling someone anything with the word ‘mother’ in it when she would’ve been eight when I was born.”
Her head goes back and forth as she does the math. “Ooh, I see.”
“Yeah. So I stick with ‘my father’s wife.’ It doesn’t seem as weird that way.”
“That makes sense,” Dane says. “So what kind of extra projects are we talking about?”
I suck in a breath and look at the sky. “Have you ever built a poodle spa?”
“A what?” Haley asks, unable to hide her laugh. “A poodle spa? Did you seriously just say that?”
“That’s what she called it,” I say, lowering my chin. “Sounds ridiculous, I know, but she’s kind of . . . What do the kids call it these days? Extra? Yeah. Meredith’s kind of extra.”
Dane groans. “Mia says that.” He looks at me and realizes I have no idea who Mia is. “She’s my daughter. She’s almost ten. Sometimes she’s extra.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the look on his face, like he’s in way over his head with a little girl. “She’s ten, though, right? I bet she gets extra-extra when she’s twenty.”
“Dane is completely screwed with Mia.” Haley elbows him in the ribs.
I take a step back as I witness Dane and Haley exchanging a knowing look. It’s one of those looks that people who know each other intimately share.
Maybe I’ve misinterpreted her reactions to me. Is that possible?
Surely not.
“Dane has made me tell Mia boys are bad her whole life. You know how some people base their parenting strategy on a religion or a learning technique or something like that? When he hired me as Mia’s nanny, my guiding principle was ‘boys are bad.’”
“Yeah, you’re the nanny.” Dane groans. “I hate when you act like you’re just an employee or something, cousin.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she says, bumping him with her shoulder.
I keep the relief washing over my features unnoticeable. “Cousin” is good. Logical. Keeps her available.
“Probably a good idea, teaching her boys are bad,” I say.
“Oh, it’s totally a good idea,” Haley agrees. “Just like your dad’s wife’s poodle spa.”
Dane shakes his head. “I’ll be honest. I don’t even know what that is.”
“Me either, but she hashed it out on pink, scented paper, just for you,” I say.
Haley’s smile lights up her face. “I know, or presume, you aren’t her biggest fan, but I think I’d love your dad’s wife. I think I’d love anyone that wants to build a spa for their poodle. How sweet is that?”
“I have lots of ways of describing it, but sweet isn’t on the short list,” I tell her. “I don’t get her obsession with dogs. She has their toenails painted and these little bows put in their hair. It’s so strange.”
Dane looks at me in horror. “You aren’t kidding, then. She really wants a spa for her dogs?”
“Apparently. I have no idea why.”
“I do,” Haley says. “Think about it. It’s smart. If you have a dog, you have to take it to the groomer’s and have it washed and treated for fleas and stuff. It would be a lot easier to have that done at home.”
“It would be easier to not have a dog,” I say. “They’re too much of a commitment.”
She huffs. “Well, that says a lot about you.”
“Your road rage says a lot about you.”
“Oh no,” Haley says, jabbing a finger my way. “You instigated that.”
“How did I instigate anything when you flew up behind me?”
“And you slowed down to a crawl.”
“A safe crawl,” I toss her way.
Bantering with her like this is a game
I could play all day. Not just because the way her eyes light up makes everything seem sunnier or because the way her lips turn toward the sky makes me want to laugh for no apparent reason. But also because it’s not going to end with her feelings being hurt and I’m not going to be made to feel like a dick for joking around. Hell, she gives as good as she gets.
“And how do you two know each other?” Dane asks. “Because this is obviously not the first time you’ve met.”
“I gave Haley a doughnut this morning,” I say, as if that explains everything.
Dane chuckles. “Well, you may not have known her your whole life, but now you’ll be friends forever.”
“I’m not sure,” I say, turning my head to the side. “I think she’s kind of irritable. And definitely argumentative.”
Haley scowls. “No, I’m not. But I’m not going to stand here and let you act like what happened on the road back there was my fault.”
I look at Dane. “See what I mean?”
“Yeah, I get it,” he says. “I don’t know what to do with her half the time.”
“I’m standing right here, thank you very much,” Haley says. “But not for long. I do have to go. I have to change clothes before I go to the library.”
“Do you have Mia’s leotard?” Dane asks.
“Yup. It’s in my car.” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “I was too perturbed by a bad driver to remember to grab it.”
“You drive like a bat out of Hell,” I say.
“And you drive like a grandpa,” she fires back.
“It’s a gravel road.”
She turns her entire body to face mine. “I was late.”
“You’ll never get there if you’re in a coffin,” I say, my body facing hers without thought. “Talk about permanent late-makers.”
Dane breaks up the back-and-forth with a loud chuckle. “You two fight like married people.”
“If that’s what marriage is like, then I’m glad I’m off that path,” Haley says.
My gaze drops to her hand to confirm there’s no engagement ring on her finger. Still, her words prickle at me.
“Were you married before?” I ask. My tone stays unaffected. It hides the way my stomach clenches as I say the words.
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