“Travis?” Lila stepped off the repaired porch of the main cabin and walked right into the middle of the conversation. “That receipt you dropped off this morning? There isn’t an amount for labor.”
She held out a sheet of paper, stuck it right under Travis’s nose then showed it to Spence. He answered because Travis appeared to be too busy grinning to come up with a response. “That’s right. Travis gave you what you need.”
She turned to Spence. “But how am I supposed to figure out if I can afford the estimate if you’re forgetting huge chunks of costs?”
“You’re not.”
She scanned the list, as if he hadn’t said a word. “Like electrical and labor and...is there even an amount for materials on here? It looks like I’m being charged for some random supplies but that’s it.”
“You’re the one insisting on a bill.”
Her head shot up. “Well, yeah. I’m not a brainiac like you’re supposed to be.”
“I’m not.” Interesting how she didn’t believe that rumor. That one was at least based on a sliver of truth even though he did everything he could to avoid the topic of his IQ while Austin brought it up whenever possible.
“But how do I pay you without the information?”
“You don’t.”
The paper crumpled in her hand. “That’s ridiculous.”
Spence let his scowl travel over to his workers. They must have gotten the hint because the saw started humming again and the low rumble of conversation and sounds of hammering picked up a second later.
He looked back to her. “The word you want is neighborly.”
“This goes beyond helping out a neighbor, don’t you think?”
“No.”
When her gaze shot to Travis, he piped up. “No, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes then brought her attention straight back to Spence. “You’re telling me you paid for Cleo’s house or Darla’s?”
He’d paid an electric bill or two for Cleo after her husband died and the amount of her Social Security check dropped, but Spence wasn’t sharing that because even Cleo didn’t know where the emergency funds had come from. Darla had figured out a way to make the older woman take the money as a temporary solution and agreed to keep his secret. He didn’t need the whole town standing at his front door with hands out, but sometimes he could help. With Lila he was doing more and he refused to think about that either.
“You need help. If your Uncle Ned were the one trying to put this place back together, I would do the same thing,” Spence said.
She shot him a get-real scowl. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Look, Ned saved my ass more than once growing up.”
“How?”
Not that Spence wanted to get into this but that determined look on her face told him he had to. “I was a typical teen. Did dumb things. I got into the habit of skipping school—”
She smiled. “Because it was too easy?”
“Something like that. Bottom line is your aunt and uncle gave me a place to go when I needed it. In return I had to buckle down at school, Ned’s words by the way, and go to class. There was a threat about dragging my sorry butt to school and embarrassing me in front of everyone if I didn’t stop fooling around.” Spence left out the part about how his had mother left and the loss screwed up his dad. How Lila’s uncle and aunt provided a small window of normalcy when Spence craved one and until his dad found his emotional equilibrium again.
Lila’s head fell to the side as her gaze searched Spence’s face. “But that’s a debt you owe Ned, not me.”
That’s not how Spence saw it. He lived in a paid-for house and did fine financially. Money was the one thing he had and paying back Ned, no matter if it was directly or through his niece, was an obligation he took seriously. “You asked and I answered. Now we should get back—”
“No.” She tightened her jaw so hard he thought he heard it snap.
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t tell me this isn’t related to sex.” She practically shouted the last word.
Travis pointed in the general direction of the cabin farthest away. “I’ll go find something to do over there.”
Spence waited until they were alone, or as alone as they could get while standing in the middle of eight working brutes. He pivoted until his back was to his workers. “You’re scaring the kid.”
She snorted. “Oh, please. He’s a grown man and I bet his sex life would make us both blush.”
“Why are you thinking about his sex life?” That was just about the last thing Spence wanted her thinking about. Strike that, the last thing.
She waved a hand in front of his face. “Stay with me for a second, Spence.”
As if he could ignore her, with her cheeks all pink and her eyes flashing with fire. He’d never been in to angry women, but he was finding he couldn’t resist any part of Lila. And the passionate side...well, he’d spent almost every hour since she’d dropped into town wondering how to get her back in a bed.
“I get your friendship with Ned, but you’re doing everything for free.”
“Not everything.” He planned to charge a very fair, very nominal, almost non-existent, fee.
Instead of thanking him, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. “Why?”
“Why?”
“That’s the question on the table. What are you getting out of this?”
“I just told you.” He held his finger and thumb an inch apart. “Is it possible, just possible, I’m not a total dick?”
Her mouth dropped open. It took two tries for her to get any words out. “I never called you that.”
“Lila, come on.” He glanced around to make sure his men were at least pretending not to listen in. “The lying about my identity thing when we first met. I admit I deserve some of whatever name you want to call me.”
She looked like she was going to smile then clamped her lips together. “I thought we weren’t allowed to mention the name switch.”
“That’s my preference, yes.”
“But you can talk about it.”
“I apologized.”
“Whether you understand why you needed to is still up for debate, but okay.”
He decided to ignore that. “Some people think I’m a little controlling.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “A little?”
The guy working the saw picked that minute to shut it off again. The guys closed in, or at least it felt that way to Spence. Suddenly the wide-open space and acres of land crushed in around him.
“My point is, in addition to the Ned piece, I want to do something nice for you to make up for what I did before.” There, he said it, quiet and a bit less sure than he wanted, but he said it.
Truth was, something about her touched off a need in him. He wanted to help, protect, maybe stick around for more than one meal together. He didn’t understand it and refused to analyze it, but he was smart enough to know she made him smile. For a guy who spent almost every hour of every day working, having a person move into his life who made him want to chuck all that responsibility if only for a short while was a new experience.
She dropped her arms to her side. “Okay.”
He rushed to get the words out before they could pile up in his throat. “Is it really so hard...wait, okay?”
“I said okay.” She was smiling. Looking at him and smiling, all traces of argument gone.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
He had no idea what just happened. His stomach kept churning even though the battle appeared to be over. “After all that fighting, you just concede?”
“I knew you were a good guy all along. I was wondering if you knew.” She shrugged. “Hopefully after all of this you do.”
That didn’t clear things up one damn bit. “So this was some sort of game.”
“No, the idea of letting you pay for things makes me twitchy and I will pay you back. Eventually.”
“There’s no need—�
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“But, really, I was worried about us being thrown together and you mixing up sex and help.”
He didn’t even know what that last comment meant. She was talking in some woman language that had his brain misfiring. “And now?”
She stepped closer to the main cabin and leaned her back against the newly installed porch post. “I realized a smart woman doesn’t turn down free help.”
He followed because he hoped moving around would send blood to his brain and help him work this through. The logical answer came to him as his hand went to the post behind Lila’s head. “You sound like Darla now.”
“Actually, that bit of wisdom came from your dad.”
“What?”
“He called this morning to check on me. He’s very sweet.”
“Not the word I’d use to describe him.” Tough, fair and hardworking, yes. Sweet? Never.
“He was very clear that he’d been friends with Ned for years and insisted the Thomas family owed some sort of friendship debt.” She let her hand trail down Spence’s arm until he caught her fingers with his. “Honestly, I didn’t get that part but your dad said you were doing the right thing by helping and that I should do my part by accepting it graciously. I pointed out that I planned to repay you, but he refused to listen. Like father like son, I guess.”
Of course he ignored her because knowing his dad, he had an ulterior motive here, and Spence feared he knew what it was. “What else did Dad say?”
“Worried?”
Spence turned her hand over, rubbing his thumb against her soft palm. “The man is itching for a grandchild.”
“He mentioned that.”
Spence knew he should drop her hand and step away. Should but didn’t. “Ignore his matchmaking.”
Her fingers curled around his thumb just before they entwined with his. “What makes you think he tried?”
The conversation mattered but he couldn’t concentrate. He focused on the softness of her skin and scent of her hair. Standing just inches apart, he ached to pull her in close. Screw his workers and Travis and all the gossip that would fly around following the kind of hot, knock-your-breath-out-of-your-lungs kiss he wanted to give her. Only Travis coughing stopped Spence from taking that leap.
“You’re saying Dad didn’t give you the hard sell on marriage?”
She lifted her free hand and skimmed her fingers across his jaw. Those eyes sparkled with mischief as she touched him and talked. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. That much was clear from that sinfully knowing smile.
“Not everything is about you, Spence.”
He grabbed her wandering hand and pressed a kiss in the palm. “I refuse to believe that.”
Even with a nose red from the cold, her face reminded him of long, dragging kisses and rumpled sheets. His need for her roared, flushing his body with heat.
“Time to get back to work.” She dropped both of his hands and pushed off from the post.
He let her almost reach the door before he spoke again. “You were wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
“All your talk about not knowing what you were doing with the campsite and the construction. That’s not what I see when I look at you.” He said it because it needed to be said. Because she needed to know.
She turned around slowly, as if each inch took a minute, until she faced him. “What do you see?”
“Strength and confidence. Small insecurities you let blow up until the warrior inside you takes over.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear when a gust of wind threatened to take it. “Because I ordered Travis around this morning and disagreed with you about a hundred times in the last two hours?”
“Because you know what you want and ask all the right questions to get it.” Because she fought him to keep him from taking over yet pulled back when it was smart for her to do so. If Spence didn’t know better, he’d say she was a master negotiator.
Her head tilted to the side and her silky hair fell over her shoulder. “Why, Spencer Thomas. If you keep these compliments up I’m going to think you’re a pretty decent guy.”
“That’s an outrageous lie,” he said with a wink.
“I’m going to walk away now thinking you’re about more than sex and business.”
That sunny smile had him reeling, so he decided to let her think whatever she wanted.
Chapter Seven
Lila wrestled her damp hair into a ponytail that night after a second full day of campground construction. On Spence’s orders, they left the area as darkness fell, even though she itched to stay longer. Despite the frozen feet and numb fingertips, the work ignited her excitement. The progress on the main cabin was noticeable. The place wasn’t livable by any stretch, but at least it had four walls and a solid floor now.
Once back in her temporary home on loan from Karl Thomas, the happiness that had fueled her all day wore off in wave after wave of uncontrolled shivers. Ten minutes under the hot shower spray removed most of the chill. Cranking the heater up and getting dressed did the rest. She wore gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt she usually hid under sweaters because it was a size too small and obscenely snug. Shopping in the bargain bin to save money post marital implosion, she wasn’t really particular about that sort of thing.
She walked into the family room at a near crawl with her thick socks rubbing against the hardwood floors and even that sucked up most of her energy. Every muscle ached. Every. Single. One.
Wielding a hammer, spending hours with her arms over her head working on the new window install, made her biceps thump. Just keeping her arms at her sides made her bite back a squeal. She stood by the recliner next to the fireplace and figured out bending didn’t feel any better than shuffling. Dropping back into the cushions might be the answer. She started a silent countdown to falling over but a sharp knock stopped her.
Half up and half down, she groaned as she stood straight again. Or as straight as she could get. She was pretty sure she wobbled as she skulked to the door, but she refused to find a mirror and check.
Wincing as she stretched up on tiptoes to reach the small window in the door, she saw Spence standing outside under the porch light, holding a box of something. That would teach her to skip a quick trip to the mirror.
She wiped a hand over her hair, trying to tame any wild flyaways, as she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
His eyebrow lifted. “Uh, hello?”
“Sorry.” She blamed the achy stiffness for her grumpiness but seeing him here, looking all tall, dark and perfect after twelve hours of labor and with a bed so close by, had her nerves jangling. Her stomach, the one part of her that was fine up until a second ago, did backflips.
She moved back to let him in and hissed when her leg refused to bend. Stupid traitorous body.
His gaze roamed over her, warming every inch, and hesitated for a few extra seconds over her tight shirt and the breasts outlined underneath. “Sore?”
There was no need to hide her muscle discomfort, as if she even could with all the moaning and bone creaking. “Barely able to stand.”
“You’re kind of leaning at a forty-five-degree angle.” He used his hand to act out the words.
Smartass. “I guess you want to stand in the cold all night.”
“Did I mention how good you look all crooked like that?” He had the nerve to smile as he said it.
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.” With her hand wrapped around the door handle for balance, she stepped back and made room for him to come inside. “What are you lugging around?”
He shook the box. “I thought we’d do some more work.”
“Are you kidding?” Please be kidding.
He laughed. “Didn’t you get my text?”
The rich sound of his voice sent her head spinning. She’d heard him joke and seen him smile, but he wasn’t a guy who laughed easily. Hearing it now made her breath hiccup in her throat.
“I was in the shower,” she
mumbled, not even sure if she’d said the words out loud.
He stopped on his way to the kitchen and faced her again. “Interesting.”
The tone brushed against her like a caress. Between the sexy grin and the husky words, her resistance, what little she had left, melted. “Why don’t you tell me what the text said?”
He lifted the box almost to eye level. “I have homemade chili and cornbread. Or did you zap a buffalo in the microwave for dinner?”
Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Even buffalo sounded promising at this point. Lunch had been hours ago. “You’re hysterical.”
“Be nice to the man who brings you dinner.” He called the suggestion as he walked past the family room on the right and the small office area on the left, straight back to the kitchen at the opposite end of the small cabin.
Good grief, if he cooked on top of all his other skills, her remaining shards of control would shatter. “I prefer skeptical.”
He set the box down on the wood block across from the kitchen sink and went to the cabinets. In two seconds he had bowls out and spoons ready to go. “You’ve never had a man bring you a meal before?”
“I’m more accustomed to them taking than giving.”
“What?”
She sighed. “I said, not in a long time.”
Spence tapped a spoon against the block. “What kind of men do you date?”
It was a weird question coming from the mouth of her most recent date-of-sorts. This would be the perfect time to bob and weave. She’d been doing that since they met, ignoring anything personal and keeping all the information on other people and things instead of about her. But standing there in the cozy house, with the intoxicating smell of tomato and garlic zinging through her senses and his eyes all soft and caring, she gave in.
Letting him in scared her to death, but their lives kept intersecting and that had to mean something. “For the last three years, I dated the kind I was married to and no one else.”
The spoon stopped in mid-air with chili dripping off the edge. “What did you just say?”
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