by Molly McLain
He stalked toward the entrance of the bar, not at all surprised to see Fletcher’s flashy red Camaro parked at the front of the lot. For the last several months, the Wednesday night shift belonged to Heather, the stacked redhead his best friend had been eyeing up like a juicy steak.
Considering the primary source of his tension, Josh would have preferred to numb his brain cells without his best friend’s presence, but he wouldn’t get too picky about the company he shared as long as the beer was cold and plentiful.
He pushed through the clover-embossed door, immediately greeted by the bluesy sound of Johnny Cash. The strain quickly began to slide from his shoulders, as he surveyed the bar for Fletcher. The preppy SOB was nowhere to be seen. Given the bar was also left unattended, he quickly deduced the most likely location of his friend to be somewhere in the vicinity of a splayed pair of thighs.
“What’s it, self-serve tonight?” he asked the old timers engrossed in a game of bar dice, before he helped himself to a bottle of Budweiser and a beef jerky.
George, one of his Grandpa Hudson’s old war buddies, chortled. “Big Coors emergency. Had to enlist the help of your friend, if ya know what I mean.”
Josh snorted as he straddled a stool. At least Fletcher was getting some. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten laid. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d jerked off either. He refused to acknowledge how pathetic that was.
“Well, it’s about damn time,” George cackled, as the storage room door swung open and Heather strolled out, hefting a case of bottles. Fletcher trailed behind with two.
“Holy hell, man, I haven’t seen you out in a month.” Unloading the beer, his friend shared a private smile with Heather before sliding into the empty stool beside him. “How long have you been here?”
Josh brought his beer to his mouth. “Long enough to know you just got your dick wet.”
Fletcher chuckled. “I’m breaking her down, man, breaking her down.”
“Took you friggin’ long enough. You losing your touch or what? She’s been in town for six months already.” Josh took a bite of his jerky as Heather, of the freckled nose and fantastic rack, smiled mischievously from behind the bar. She set a beer in front of his friend and went back to work.
Fletcher ogled her ass as she wiggled away. “It’s been well worth the wait, let me tell ya.”
Josh snorted. “Thanks for sharing.”
Fletcher clapped him on the back with a chuckle. “Anytime, man, anytime.”
Josh bristled. Obviously they weren’t talking about literally sharing, but Josh’s train of thought went straight to the woman they had shared and the fact that he’d been keeping that detail a secret. But guilty conscience or not, it was a secret he’d just as soon take to his grave than hurt Reed—or Carissa—by admitting.
“So what brings you out?” Fletcher asked, pulling Josh from his reverie, before he took a drink of his beer.
“Week from hell,” he replied blandly.
“Dude, it’s only Wednesday.”
“No shit.” Josh chuckled. “By the way, thanks for pushing back the inspection at Henry’s.”
“Not a problem.” Fletcher dipped his chin in understanding. “You know, with summer break, the vandals are probably just a bunch of kids who don’t know what to do with their newfound time.”
“Probably,” Josh agreed, but he knew better. Kids wouldn’t know how to do that much damage without doing some serious harm to themselves as well. This was a professional job, no doubt about it. He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. “All I’ve got to say is the bastards better hope I never catch ‘em.”
Fletcher popped a peanut into his mouth. “Speaking of bastards, did Carissa ever hunt you down yesterday?”
“Yep. That’s part two of my fucktastic week.” He finished off his beer and slid the empty bottle forward.
“I tried to assure her that our intentions were honest, but when she’s got a bug up her ass, there ain’t no telling her otherwise. Cripes, she’s like a little sister to all of us.” He craned his head from side to side. “Except, you know, I’ve slept with her.”
Josh flinched.
“Yeah, that’s kinda weird, isn’t it? And she’s too damn hot for sister material anyway.” Fletcher chuckled. “So what’d she have to say? She was pretty pissed when she left the flip.”
“She was pretty pissed when she got to me, too. She blamed the whole Kelly debacle on me and, in not so many words, told me where I could shove my help.” Which, come to think of it, wasn’t exactly fair. She didn’t seem the slightest bit peeved at Dan or Fletcher for their involvement. What the hell was that about?
“I think she knew it was a bad situation to begin with, but bullheaded as she is, she stuck with it, hoping Kelly would work out.” Fletcher picked at the coaster beneath his beer. “What I don’t get is why she didn’t just hire you in the first place.”
Yeah, well... “Doesn’t really matter now.” Josh snatched up the fresh beer as soon as Heather put it in front of him. “In the end, she made the right decision—she hired me this afternoon.”
“No kidding?” Fletcher grinned, the stupid bastard. If he had any idea the thoughts that had gone through Josh’s mind, he’d be throwing punches instead. Though, if they were gonna get technical about it, Josh should’ve been the one to kick Fletcher’s ass years ago. If only the guy hadn’t fallen so hard...
“I start cleaning up Kelly’s mess tomorrow.” He gulped down a third of the bottle in one swig.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”
Dumbass. “Wish I could say the same.”
“Come on, man. She’s a great girl. She needs someone who’ll do right by her and you’re that guy.”
Josh snorted and downed the rest of his beer in another two swallows. What Carissa needed was a contractor who didn’t think about “doing” her six ways to Sunday every time she smiled or cocked her leg just the right way. And unfortunately, knowing himself better than anyone else, Josh was positive he wasn’t that guy.
But he was a professional. And he never, ever got involved with clients. Which was how he knew he could pull of this job without doing something stupid.
He’d definitely have to take up jerking off again, but he would not, in no uncertain terms, ever touch Carissa again.
***
“I booked you a room at the hotel for the weekend of the wedding. One with a jacuzzi, you know, in case.”
An assembly line of wedding invitation parts spread out before her on the coffee table in Maddie’s living room, Carissa arched an eyebrow at her best friend. “In case what?”
Maddie winked above the frame of her horn-rimmed reading glasses. “In case you wanna score a hot tub romp with one of the bartenders or maybe one of Dan’s college friends. You got my messages that Andrew’s coming to town tomorrow, right? I totally need you there. To help balance out the hormones and whatnot.”
“Sorry, I’m packing.” Carissa stuck an address label on an envelope and moved it to the finished pile. “And besides, you know I’m not a suit kind of girl.” Give her a man in a ratty ball cap and a pair of Levi’s any day, but Armani or Brooks Brothers? Not so much.
“Please?” Maddie’s stuck out her bottom lip and sniffed like a toddler. “I’m only asking for a few hours of your time. I think we’re grilling out. Nothing serious. Though you might want to break out that new lingerie again. You know—”
“Just in case?”
“Yes!”
The grin on her friend’s face was far too eager for Carissa’s liking. And frankly Maddie’s ‘balance the hormones’ requests usually didn’t work out so well. The night Maddie had left her to the wolves, aka Josh? Case in point. Not that it had been all bad, of course. Or any bad, for that matter. In fact, she’d rather enjoyed the way he’d nibbled and bit. And the way he’d worked that wicked mouth on her, licking and—
Whoa!
Where the heck had that come from?
Swiping up her iced tea, Carissa greedily gulped down half the contents. Obviously, spending nearly all day with the man at the flip had done something to her brain cells. Warped them. Made them delusional.
Of course, he had been wearing that stellar pair of ass-hugging jeans. And he’d shaved.
God.
“Hello?” Maddie’s fingers danced in her line of vision. “You feeling okay?”
“Yes. Sorry. Just distracted.” She got to her feet and padded to the kitchen to refill her glass. Maddie followed behind.
“Understandable. You’ve had a rough week.” She pulled open the freezer and retrieved a box of cheesecake bites. “You definitely deserve one of these. Or five.”
They stood in silence for several fabulous minutes, leaned up against the kitchen island, noshing on assorted flavors of the decadent dessert.
“Oh my, I need to buy these for home.” Snatching up one last piece, Carissa popped it into her mouth and moaned. “They’re almost better than sex.”
Maddie snorted. “Then you’re having the wrong kind, sweetheart. Try the mocha. It’s absolutely better than sex.”
Both women fell into a fit of giggles and Carissa laughed so hard her stomach hurt. “Oh, Mads, I need a man. Bad. In fact, if I don’t get laid soon, I’m gonna buy stock in this company and then you’re gonna have a fat maid of honor.”
Maddie pursed her lips into a goofy frown. “I don’t care if you get chunky. But I definitely don’t want you to be sex-deprived. Honey, you really need to meet Andrew. He’s not the stuffy lawyer type at all. In fact, I think he might surprise you.”
Carissa stuck her tongue in her cheek. “With his penis piercing, you mean?”
“Hopefully.” Maddie winked and Carissa laughed again.
“God, I am so pathetic. Even if he and I did hit it off, I’d probably botch it up. I can’t even carry on a conversation with a man without it going all haywire.”
“That what happened with Tony?”
Carissa’s gaze jerked to her friend’s. “You know about that?”
“Well, yeah. I watched you two flirting away and I was totally doing the happy dance when you left with him, but then Dan said he saw Tony tearing out like a bat outta hell. What went wrong?”
“Wait...Dan saw him leaving?”
“Saw, heard...I don’t know. But I take it you weren’t with Tony or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“No, I wasn’t with him. He...wasn’t feeling well.”
Maddie lifted an eyebrow.
“He’d been drinking.”
“Ah. I’m surprised you didn’t give him a ride home. You know, the whole drinking and driving thing.”
“I offered, but he...ended up changing his mind." She avoided Maddie’s gaze, wishing, not for the first time, that she hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in the lie-by-omission that had been her single serving of the woman’s future brother-in-law.
Maddie was like a sister and there weren’t many things Carissa withheld in all of the two-plus decades they’d been friends. But she hadn’t wanted to share her night with Josh with anyone. And not because she’d regretted what they’d done or was ashamed of her uncharacteristic behavior, but because everything about being with him had been so amazing. Hands down the best sex she’d ever had and holding tight to those memories had made the encounter seem even more special.
In hindsight however, she realized how foolish she’d been to think he might’ve felt the same. Obviously she’d just been another notch on the Marine-cum-contractor’s utility belt.
By the time she’d figured that out, Maddie’d begun pushing her, as the new girl on the block, to investigate all the male offerings River Bend had to offer. Reed had topped Maddie’s already-narrowed list.
It was all history from there, and how the hell could Carissa ever explain wittingly getting involved with the best friend of the man who’d given her the most incredible orgasms ever? Granted, she hadn’t intended for Reed to be more than a friend, and Josh had never given her any indication he’d care who she dated, but still...
If Josh hadn’t been Dan’s brother, coming clean to Maddie would have been much less complicated. But Maddie cared about Josh, even if he did annoy the hell out of her. Heck, everyone loved Josh. And they loved Reed the same. And Carissa was just the horrible woman who screwed both friends, one after the other.
Sure, that kind of thing happened all the time in small towns where the selection of potential love interests was limited. But it wasn’t her. And it wasn’t Josh and it wasn’t Reed. And it wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted to be known for in a community where she hoped to someday be adored just as much. God knows, she didn’t have that kind of affection and support back home anymore.
Out of nowhere, tears began to sting in her eyes and she hurried to hide them, but not quickly enough.
“Oh, honey, don’t cry.” Maddie wrapped her up in a snug embrace. “I didn’t bring it up to upset you.”
Carissa shook her head and pulled back, swiping at her cheeks. “It’s just so much lately. I’m fine. Really, I am.”
Maddie’s eyes widened, realization dawning. “Sunday will be ten years. I can’t believe I forgot. Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry.”
She smiled even through the tears. “You knew my mother just as well as I did, Mads. She’d have us running laps around the football field if she saw either of us moping around, feeling sorry for ourselves or for her. ‘Cheerleaders don’t cry, girls—they smile. No matter how badly it hurts.’”
“Oh, God.” Maddie’s simultaneous burst of laughter and tears filled up the room. “I can totally hear her! We should go for a run. In memory of Ms. Cindy.”
“Nah, I did that this morning. And every other day this week.” Carissa waved a hand in the air and dabbed at her face with a napkin. “Besides, I really am fine. I was thinking I’d go visit and plant some new flowers by her grave in a few weeks. When things with the flip get back on track and I’m all moved.”
“And I will absolutely come with you. My own mother would shoot me if I didn’t. And about this weekend? Forget it. It was insensitive of me to even ask.”
Carissa sucked in a slow, thoughtful breath. “No, I think I’d like to tag along. If for no other reason than the distraction. Otherwise I’ll sit home and watch sappy movies. Or worse, go slave away at the flip.”
Maddie perked up. “Really? Because I think you’re gonna like Andrew.”
About that... “How certain are you that he’s, you know, bejeweled? And how exactly does that works with a condom?”
Maddie’s squeal gave Carissa goose bumps. “I have no idea. Let’s Google it.”
Chapter Seven
Nope, he was definitely not that guy.
Josh wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and rose slowly—very slowly—from his crouched stance near the sink in the flip’s kitchen. He hooked the tape measure onto his tool belt and cursed the erection he’d had since Carissa, the little vixen, had arrived earlier in a pair of miniscule white shorts and a pale blue tank top that looked like it’d be hard pressed to fit an eight-year-old.
How the hell he’d ever thought he could pull off working for her without cutting off all circulation to his brain was beyond him. Clearly, he’d already been oxygen deprived when he shook her hand and made the deal.
“So, what do you think?” She strolled in from the living room where she’d been cleaning up. Leaning against the counter, she picked drywall from beneath her fingernails and the white flecks of dust in her ponytail stood out in contrast to the brown smudges on her arms and legs. The dirt almost matched the chocolate brown lace playing peek-a-boo beneath the strap of her top.
Even filthy, she was sexy as hell.
“Josh?” she prompted, looking up at him expectantly.
Yeah. What’d she ask him again?
“Uh,” he stuttered, scratching a hand over his hair. He needed a break. And not a long one. Two minutes alone in the bathroom would do the trick. Tops.
He cracked his neck, pulled open a drawer, and pointed to a blackened corner. “That’s mold.”
Carissa propped her hands on her hips and muttered a curse under her breath. “But a drawer can be replaced, right? We’ll just have to reface it to match.”
He opened the cupboard below the drawer and pointed again. Then another and another until she closed her eyes and growled.
“This can’t be happening! Wouldn’t Reed have noticed those spots during the inspection?” she asked, her hands curving around her forehead in frustration.
He shrugged. “If it was there then, but my guess is it started when Kelly’s guy broke the water pipe. Must’ve got wet and then with this heat...”
“It’s not that bad though, right? I mean, if it’s relatively new, it can be cleaned, can’t it? Bleach or something?” She looked up at him, wide-eyed and hopeful.
“Maybe, but the mold isn’t the only problem. The whole sink area needs to be replaced because of the water damage and I’d like to replace the floor in here too, from the joists up. In order to do that, the cupboards need to come out. And being as old as they are, they’re probably not going to sit well reinstalled. Then there’s the issue with this layout. It doesn’t flow at all.”
“I don’t care if it flows.”
He flashed a rueful smile. “Yes, you do. Nine times out of ten, the kitchen is what sells a house.”
“How much is this going to cost?”
He’d already mentally run the numbers and they weren’t pretty. “Ordinarily, I’d custom design the kitchen, but that’s not a possibility here. And I refuse to go half-ass and buy off the shelf at Home Depot. Most of that crap isn’t square and, in the end, we’d probably be better off reinstalling the old cupboards.”