Face Value (Next Generation 7)

Home > Other > Face Value (Next Generation 7) > Page 2
Face Value (Next Generation 7) Page 2

by Cheryl Douglas


  Tucker cursed himself as he watched her scribble the address. Accepting the job would be a bad idea for a dozen reasons, but none of them came to mind when she looked at him as if no price would be too high for that one favor.

  He stood up at the same time she did, taking the card she offered. “I should be by around six, if that works for you?”

  “Sure, that would be great.” She slid her hand down the side of her skirt before extending it. “It was nice meeting you. And thank you for doing this.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet.” He looked at their joined hands and silently cursed a blue streak when the heat from her touch seared his skin. “I can’t promise I’ll even be able to take this job. We’re busy and-”

  She held her hand up to silence him. “Just don’t say no.”

  He couldn’t imagine denying her anything. “Fine, I won’t say no… yet.”

  Chapter Two

  Lauren went home to change before meeting Tucker at the site. Construction materials littered the stripped floors, so her four-inch heels didn’t make the list of appropriate footwear. She felt more comfortable in snug blue jeans, a black turtleneck, and flat black boots. She loved to dress up in suits and designer shoes, but she was most relaxed in jeans and boots. Her father teased that was the cowgirl in her.

  She checked the time again. Tucker was fifteen minutes late. Damn him. She’d been damning that man ever since she met him. He had no right being that good looking and a total parasite. A man should be one or the other, not both.

  When she heard the crunch of gravel, she peeked out the window. A big black pick-up truck parked at the end of the narrow driveway. Oh my. He’d gone home to shower and change. He wore black cowboy boots, snug black jeans, and a gray and black button-down shirt with a screen print design stretching across his wide shoulders. Delicious. The girls at the spa were right. In spite of his transgressions, that man was one sweet piece of eye candy.

  His dark brown hair was longish, hanging over the back of his collar, and he seemed to favor the scruffy look if the whiskers shading his jaw were any indication. But that roguish look only enhanced his rough persona, making him even sexier, if such a thing was possible. Lauren told herself it was a good thing he wasn’t her type at all. She liked polished, sophisticated men who wore a suit and tie to work. She questioned whether Tucker even owned a tie.

  He tapped his knuckles against the front door, and Lauren involuntarily sucked in a breath as she went to answer it. What was that about? She couldn’t be nervous. She’d met with dozens of contractors. Their meeting was no different. Okay, so maybe most contractors looked more like cover models for Redneck Weekly, but one good-looking man shouldn’t throw her into a tailspin. She was just nervous about her tight deadline. At least, that’s what she told herself… until she opened the door, and all the air left her lungs when he grinned. Mary, Mother of God.

  “Sorry I’m a bit late. I had to run home to shower and change.”

  Lauren stepped back, willing her racing heart to slow down so she didn’t pass out. Smiling tightly, she knew she must look as though she was baring her teeth. “You didn’t have to go home and change on my account.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t. I have a date.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I have to pick her up across town in about forty-five minutes, so I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Oh.” Talk about fifty shades of red. Why would she assume he’d changed to impress her? It wasn’t as though she had chosen her best-fitting jeans hoping he would notice they did fantastic things to her bottom. “Well, I won’t keep you then.”

  “No worries.” He stepped in and looked around at the mess. “Man, you’ve still got a lot of work to do. What did you say your deadline was?”

  “Five weeks.”

  He whistled under his breath. “That’s not a lot of time for a project like this.”

  “I know.” Lauren started wringing her hands when he faced her.

  Tucker grinned at the nervous action, prompting her to drop her hands and try to act nonchalant. As if that was possible when his eyes raked over her as if she was the whipped topping he couldn’t wait to lick off his latte.

  “Does… um… that mean you don’t think it’s possible?”

  He grinned again. “Do I make you nervous, Lauren?”

  “What? No!” She hoped he couldn’t see her heart hammering through her thin turtleneck.

  His mega-watt grin dimmed only slightly. “Whatever you say. Okay, why don’t you show me the rest of the place?”

  “Right, of course.” She should have suggested that. He couldn’t give her an estimate without looking at the whole house. Duh.

  He took a leather bound tablet out from under his arm and opened it, touching the screen.

  She hadn’t even noticed the tablet. Perhaps because she was so fixated on the way he filled out those jeans. Barely resisting the urge to fan her face, she said, “Let’s start with the kitchen.”

  “Lead the way.” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him.

  Lauren felt those dark eyes boring into her backside, and of their own volition, her hips swayed. Might as well put on a show, she thought, smiling. Give the man a taste of his own medicine. He must be used to women falling at his feet. Making him fall would be a nice change. Not that she was interested in reeling him in.

  “Raw.” That one raspy word stopped her in her tracks. He stepped right into her, his hand falling to her hip. “Whoa, careful now.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. Did he have to smell so good? Just step away, Lauren. One foot in front of the other. You can do this, girl.

  Tucker chuckled. “The kitchen looks raw. But are you… uh… gonna let me step inside?”

  “What? Oh, yeah.” She stepped aside. She spotted a paper bag on the floor and was tempted to pull it over her head to hide her flaming cheeks. The idea was so ridiculous she had to laugh. What had gotten into her? She was acting like a nervous virgin thrust into an arranged marriage with an intimidating stranger.

  She watched him walk around the kitchen, tapping notes on his tablet, taking measurements, knocking on wood, and frowning. “Is there a problem?”

  “Have you ordered kitchen cabinets?”

  “No, uh, my last contractor, Phil, was going to make them for me. I really don’t want to lose that period feel with a modern kitchen. I realize it has to be functional, but I hate cookie cutter houses.”

  He looked at her a long time. “I agree. I love old houses like this. Did you say you were an investor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh, so you buy and rehab old houses like this all the time?”

  “Yes.” When she’d graduated from college with a business degree and told her parents what she wanted to do, most people were skeptical that a girlie-girl like her would survive a year with big, burly construction workers hounding her all day. But she’d held her own, earned the respect of the people who worked for her, and built a business she loved. It was stressful, but every day was a challenge, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I do the same thing. I know how tough the job can be.”

  “You rehab old houses too?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  She shouldn’t be. It was a natural fit for someone in his line of work, but Amanda spoke as if he spent every spare minute playing pool or chasing skirts. “I just didn’t realize. Do you have any projects in the works right now?”

  “Several.” He smiled. “I’ve got a few of my own projects on the go, and I’ve got crews all over the city working on everything from basement renovations to additions.”

  “Oh.” She tried not to let panic set in. He wouldn’t be able to meet her timeline. Not even if she begged and offered to pay his crew double time.

  “Why the long face?” He propped his hip against the raw wood where the granite counter top would eventually go.

  Lauren sighed. “These buyers have been really difficult. The contract has a clause about late fees, and if I
’m more than sixty days late, they can back out of the deal. Then I’m back to square one, trying to find the right buyers.”

  “It’s not easy with homes like this, I know.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Why don’t you just concentrate on the typical subdivision homes? They’re a lot easier to sell.”

  “I know, but that’s boring.” She wrinkled her nose. “They all look the same. Finishings are the same, floor plans are the same. With these houses, you never know what you’ll find.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I’ve found some pretty cool stuff going through attics.”

  “I know, right?” She smiled. “In this house, I found an old trunk with letters the original homeowner wrote to his wife while he was in the war.” She rested a hand against her stomach. “It was heart-wrenching. He told her how much he loved her and their kids in every letter, just in case he didn’t make it home. He said looking at her picture was the only thing that got him through every day.” She bit her lip when she realized she was getting a little emotional.

  “Did you keep them? The letters?”

  “Of course.”

  “You’re a romantic.” He chuckled. “I never would have guessed.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You seem a little…” He shook his head. “Forget it.” He checked his watch again. “Damn, it’s getting late. I have to go. Will you be here in the morning? I’d like to see the rest of the house, but I really don’t have time now.”

  “I can be.” At least he hadn’t told her he couldn’t meet her timeline. That gave her reason to hold out hope.

  “Great, why don’t I pass by before I head into the office? Say around seven thirty?”

  She usually didn’t leave her condo until eight. “Sounds good.”

  Lauren offered her hand, feeling silly when he glanced at it before accepting it. She normally concluded a business meeting with a handshake. Just because she’d never conducted business with a man who looked like a god… She would just learn to ignore his perfect face and chiseled body and pretend he was like any other plumber or electrician.

  “It was nice to see you again, Lauren.”

  He said her name like an intimate endearment. A shiver moved through her body before she could tamp it down.

  He smirked. “You’re cold? Funny, I was just thinking it’s getting hotter than hell in here.” He winked before turning to leave.

  That time, she was the one watching his very fine backside as he exited the room. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her friend Ava. Most of her friends were married or engaged and preferred to spend all of their free time with their men. Ava was the only one still single. Bless her.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Ava asked.

  “I need a drink.” Or ten. “Meet me at Jimmy’s in half an hour?” She heard the front door close and hoped Tucker assumed she was talking to a man. Maybe if he thought she was unavailable, he’d quit looking at her as if she was a piece of fresh fruit he couldn’t wait to peel.

  “You got it.”

  ***

  Tucker knew taking Tonya to Jimmy’s was a bad idea. The original plan was to grab a bite to eat and head back to his place for dessert, but when he overheard Lauren making plans, he couldn’t resist the urge to find out what she was up to. Was she meeting a man? Not that it should matter. That woman was so far out of his league…

  “You’re quiet tonight,” Tonya said, reaching over to squeeze his thigh.

  Tonya was too young for him, but they had fun together. If another woman caught his eye though, he wouldn’t feel guilty about it.

  “Busy with work.”

  Tonya rolled her eyes. “What else is new? You’re always busy with work.”

  Tucker questioned whether it might be time to cut Tonya loose. If there was one thing he hated, it was a woman nagging him about the hours he worked. He’d had enough of that when he was married. God, he cringed just thinking about his ex-wife. If she wasn’t the mother of his children, he would gladly live the rest of his life without setting eyes on her again.

  “Gotta make money.”

  “Yeah, but you have to give it all to her and your kids.”

  Tucker would gladly give his kids every dime he earned, but he enjoyed making Amanda sweat for the alimony. He’d paid off her house and car in the divorce. The only bills she had to take care of were the food, utilities, taxes, and insurance, and his monthly payments would have paid for those several times over. He knew she spent most of it on the designer clothes, shoes, purses, and jewelry she loved, but as long as his kids were well taken care of, he wouldn’t complain. He knew she worked because she loved to hear the gossip, not because of her strong work ethic.

  “The court sets the rules. I just abide by them.” He made more than enough money to maintain his lifestyle and Amanda’s, but Tonya didn’t need to know that. He feared if she realized just how much he made from his business and real estate investments, she might look at him as a potential husband. Hell would freeze over before he agreed to be anyone’s husband again. One miserable marriage was one too many.

  Tonya crossed her arms. “Why are we going to Jimmy’s? I don’t want to go there.”

  “I can always take you back home.” You spoiled little brat. Sometimes he thought his ten-year-old daughter was more mature than her.

  “Fine, we’ll go there. But I don’t see why you wanna go to a bar. You don’t even drink.”

  That much was true. His temper was legendary, and when he drank, it was like pouring gasoline and setting a match. Everybody best stand back. At least when he was sober, he was in control of his words and actions. If eighteen months in jail taught him one thing, it was that he didn’t intend to waste one more day behind bars.

  “We can grab a bite to eat, dance. Some of the boys at work said there’s a pretty good band tonight.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes as she looked out the window.

  Tucker suspected he would be busy the next time she asked him out. Spending time with her was taking its toll, and the last thing he needed was more drama in his life.

  He parked and she hopped out, walking around to the back to meet him. Tonya slipped her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re gonna take me back to your place when we leave here, right?”

  “I don’t think so, sugar. I’ve got an early morning meeting.”

  “But we haven’t been together in weeks.”

  And the sad thing was Tucker hadn’t even missed the sex. It was definitely time to cut her loose. Maybe he’d tell her their relationship had run its course when he dropped her off. “I know. Like I said, I’ve been busy.”

  “Do you really have to take your kids to the game this weekend?”

  “I spend every weekend with my kids, you know that.” Knowing he could pick them up on Friday night was sometimes the only thing that got him through the week.

  “Maybe I can come with you guys.”

  “Uh, I don’t think so.” Tucker nodded to the bouncer holding the door open for them.

  “Why not?”

  Tucker didn’t introduce his kids to the women in his life. Ever. They had enough confusion with the men passing in and out of Amanda’s life. He didn’t want them questioning whether they were getting a new stepmother as well. Especially when the girl in question was only eleven years older than his twelve-year-old son.

  Tucker sighed. Tonya really was too young for him. His kids would be ashamed of him, and that’s the last thing he wanted. Their opinions were the only ones that mattered. He aimed to make them proud with everything he did. Except for the women he dated, but he reasoned that was a non-issue because they would never meet the Tonyas in his life.

  The hostess led them to a booth and handed them each a menu, promising to come right back and take their order.

  Tucker faced the door so he would have the perfect view when little Miss McCall strutted in. He wondered if she would be with a man. Did she have a boy
friend? If so, her boyfriend should be worried. The sparks flying earlier could have burned that old house to the ground.

  “What are you looking at?” Tonya grumbled. She spun around to look at the door. “See someone you know?”

  “Uh, no. I was just thinking about something that happened today.”

  “Did you have a good day at work?”

  It got better after Lauren walked into his office. “Uh, yeah, it was okay.”

  “I saw your ex today. She gave me the filthiest look.” Tonya tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and giggled like a tweenie. “She’s so jealous it’s eating her up. She tells anyone who’ll listen that you’re a loser, yet every time you see someone new, she starts trash-talking them.”

  Tucker managed to keep things with Amanda civil in front of his children, but behind closed doors, all bets were off. He couldn’t stand that woman, and the feeling was mutual. They’d married and had kids after falling in love in high school. Everyone told them it would never last, but he was too stubborn to listen and too proud to admit they were right when Amanda started showing her true colors only months after the honeymoon.

  “Don’t worry about her.”

  “I could care less what that cow says,” Tonya said, reaching for his hand. “As long as I have you, that’s all that matters.”

  He shifted in his seat as he withdrew his hand. “Easy now. That’s the mother of my children you’re talking about.” Not that he hadn’t called her worse in his head a time or two. “Y’all need to play nice.”

  The waitress returned to take their order. Tucker opted for a burger and fries with a Coke. He was famished, and he realized he’d been so busy visiting his job sites that he’d skipped lunch. Business was booming, and he would be the last one to complain if he had to skip a few meals to get the jobs done on time.

  “I heard she’s dating some cop.”

  Tucker glanced at his cell phone, which he’d set on the table. Its flashing indicated he had new messages. Tonya hated it when he checked his phone while they were together, but since their time together was ticking down, he didn’t see the harm. “Who’s seeing a cop?”

 

‹ Prev