Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men)

by C. C. Coburn

  Jack shrugged. “Why would you?”

  “I, uh...” Grace’s life suddenly looked awfully shallow from where she was standing. What had she ever done to give back to the community? “Am I taking you away from helping them? By hiring you to work on my home?”

  “Nope. This is the perfect project for them. Come and meet the rest of the guys. They don’t bite.”

  Grace stayed where she was. “I feel a little foolish dressed like this when I’m supposed to be part of the crew. Should I change into work clothes first?”

  “No, it’s better they meet you in all your prissiness, and then when you get changed they’ll realize you’re human, too.”

  Grace rolled her eyes at his mild chastisement. “Okay, then. Lead the way,” she said.

  They went inside and up the stairs where one of the boys was working on her banister railings.

  “Dr. Saunders, meet Zac. He’s been with me for over a year and is shaping up to be a fine carpenter.”

  “Please, call me Grace,” she said, offering her hand to Zac, a short, bespectacled kid whom Grace couldn’t imagine ever being in trouble with the law. He seemed too...normal. Or was she just seeing the glasses and equating them with being studious?

  He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Jack said you’re going to pitch in around the job site.”

  He looked a little too long at Grace’s totally inappropriate attire and she felt it necessary to joke, “I guess heels are a no-no?”

  Zac shrugged. “Whatever the boss says.”

  Something crashed downstairs. She and Jack raced to the first floor to find dust billowing out of the kitchen. As it cleared, Grace saw that half the cabinets had been torn from the wall.

  A huge man stood in the midst of the debris.

  “This is Ace. He specializes in demolition,” Jack said with a wry smile.

  “Grace,” she said, shaking hands with the tall, well-built young man sporting tattoos on his arms and shoulders.

  “This your house, ma’am?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, taking in the wreckage. The old seventies cabinets were hideous, but at least they’d hidden the wall. Now that it was exposed, she could see it was covered in years of built-up grime.

  “Ace has only been with me a couple of weeks, so I’m not letting him near the power tools yet.”

  Ace grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. Grace feared he’d be missing some digits if he went anywhere near a power tool.

  “My other two apprentices have a couple of days off. They’re my most experienced men, and one of them will be taking Ace under his wing.”

  “I thought you were going to be working on my house,” Grace said.

  “I will. But I’m a contractor, which means I have a lot more to do than hammering nails and cutting lumber. I teach the guys and do the finer work myself. Al is the foreman and he keeps an eye on them. Don’t worry, your house is in good hands—the entire crew just finished building a new house. Renovating a Victorian is a real challenge and they’re all up for it.”

  They walked outside, escaping the sound of more crashing as Ace got back to cabinet demolition.

  A truck with a Dumpster on its flatbed was looking for a parking space farther down the street.

  “It would help if you moved your car,” Jack pointed out. “Go change and I’ll see you back here in an hour. No later, okay?”

  “Who exactly is the boss here?” she demanded.

  “I am,” Jack said unequivocally. “And what I say goes. You’re just the owner. Now get going.”

  If he hadn’t said it with a smile, Grace might have been offended. Instead, she bustled to her car and waved at the Dumpster delivery guy to indicate he could have her spot.

  * * *

  JACK SHOOK HIS HEAD as Grace drove away. Already he regretted his request that she roll up her sleeves and pitch in. Working in such close proximity with Grace wasn’t one of his best ideas. Yet from the moment he’d laid eyes on her again, he’d wanted her back in his life. But he needed to forgive her first.

  Forgiveness didn’t come easily to Jack, in spite of his time in the seminary. It might have had something to do with the two weeks he spent on life support after being assaulted and knifed by gang members. The memory of Jayden Tyler, the kid he’d tried so hard to save from the gang, walking away from him as he lay bleeding in that L.A. alley, had never stopped haunting him. The fact that someone he’d put so much faith in could be so callous still burned his guts.

  Pushing the memories away, Jack went inside and ascended to the attic to check the roof for leaks.

  Chapter Six

  They were ugly. Unbelievably ugly. Grace groaned at the steel-toed boots Jack had insisted she purchase to wear on the job site. She had half a mind to tell him to forget it. Footwear this hideous was almost a deal breaker; she was half-tempted to tell him she was going to Europe instead.

  But Grace wasn’t a quitter—well, apart from quitting her pediatric practice to trek halfway across the country on a whim. And she hadn’t really quit, she was taking an extended leave. She’d arranged with other pediatricians at the practice to cover her caseload.

  A couple of attractive college-age girls sauntered past the store window and it gave Grace an idea. So Mr. Jack O’Malley thought he could ignore his attraction to her, did he?

  * * *

  JACK FELT THE SUCKER punch the moment Grace stepped out of her car and strolled along the sidewalk and through the front gate. He’d been watching for her car as he worked on the front porch, showing Tyrone how to fix the railings. Of course, he could’ve been working anywhere else on the property, but the front porch was the perfect place to keep an eye on Grace’s arrival. And now he was glad he had because he needed to stop her before she took another step.

  Instead of the coveralls he’d expected, Grace wore a tight-fitting, scoop-neck T-shirt that left nothing to the imagination, denim shorts and puffy white socks. The only thing she’d complied with were the requisite boots. The scant clothing teamed with the boots was an incredibly sexy combination.

  Jack tried to swallow the baseball-size lump in his throat and said, “Hold it right there!”

  Unfortunately, Tyrone chose that moment to look up and managed half a wolf whistle before Jack spun around and silenced him with a glare.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Boss,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry and not taking his eyes off Grace.

  Jack positioned himself to block Tyrone’s view and growled at her, “What the hell do you think you’re wearing? Take those off at once!”

  “If you insist,” she said with a cheeky smile, and reached for the hem of her T-shirt.

  Jack grabbed her hand, preventing her from lifting her arms.

  “Are you crazy?” he demanded.

  Jack took her by the elbow and steered her out the gate and down the sidewalk to Betsy. He wrenched open the door. “Get in,” he growled.

  Grace obeyed without protest. He slammed the door shut with more force than needed, then rounded the old truck and got into the driver’s seat. He rested his left arm on the wheel and turned to her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He swore she batted her eyelids as she asked, “Doing?”

  “Yeah, doing. Coming to a job site dressed like a Playboy centerfold.”

  Grace’s eyebrows rose at that. “You read Playboy? A good Catholic-raised boy like you?”

  “Grace!”

  “Anyway, centerfolds are naked. But thanks for the compliment. I think.”

  He cursed under his breath, started Betsy up, put her in gear and pulled out onto the street.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To buy you some coveralls. You can’t work on the house dressed like that.”

  “But it’s a hot day! I thought shorts would be perfect. I don’t want to wear sweaty old coveralls.”

  The image of Grace getting sweaty in coveralls was almost as sexy as the shorts. Except then he wouldn’t be able to see her
legs. Her beautiful long legs that he suddenly wanted wrapped around him.

  Day one of the job and he already had a conflict with a client. A serious conflict.

  He pulled off the road and drove down to the river where they’d have some privacy.

  He cut the engine and turned to her again. “Let me spell this out for you in case you missed it this morning. That job site is swarming with young men, some still in their teens. Young men have active hormones. It’s not a good idea to overstimulate them by wearing suggestive clothing. It’s unfair.”

  Grace undid her seat belt and leaned toward him. Suddenly Betsy’s wide bench seat didn’t seem so wide. “The only person who was getting overstimulated was you, Jack.”

  Jack ground his teeth together so tightly he could feel a headache coming on. “Tyrone was there, too.”

  “Tyrone’s just a boy. You’re a man.”

  “You need to cover up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

  She smiled and he felt that sucker punch deep in his gut.

  Some perverse curiosity made him ask, “Why did you dress like this? Seriously.”

  Grace had always been a conservative dresser in high school. He’d barely seen her legs except at swim meets. And he’d liked what he’d seen. Now he liked it even more. She’d worn the clothes to make him react. Did that mean...?

  “You’re staring,” she purred, placing her hand on his thigh.

  Jack swallowed and forced his eyes to meet hers. Bad move. Her lashes were lowered, her mouth pouted. And then she licked her lips.

  Suddenly he was reaching for her, his hands beneath her butt, lifting her to straddle his lap. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck, leaving his mouth nowhere to go but against her throat. He kissed the soft skin there and she moaned.

  She kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose. He raised his mouth to meet hers and kissed her with all the love he’d held in his heart. The realization that he still loved her shook Jack to the core. This was Grace, the woman he’d never stopped loving, if he was honest about it. He took what he wanted and demanded more. And Grace, bless her, met him halfway and gave and gave and gave.

  Jack pulled her hard against him. Grace complied by wriggling even farther into his lap as they kissed like desperate teenagers—and adult lovers. It was the most erotic moment of Jack’s life and he never wanted it to end. So much for keeping his distance, so much for his principles.

  Grace tore her mouth from his and said, her voice raspy with desire, “Your place or mine?”

  It took time for the sexual fog to clear and for Jack to process her words. When he did, it was as if a wet blanket had been thrown over him. Reluctantly, he lifted Grace off his lap and placed her on the seat as he fought to calm his breathing.

  She frowned in confusion and he wanted to stroke that indentation between her pretty brows away.

  “I don’t...I don’t have relationships with clients,” he managed to say.

  Smiling with relief Grace asked, “Who said anything about a relationship? This is sex, Jack. No strings attached.”

  They were exactly the words he didn’t want to hear. Not from Grace—especially not from Grace. He slid behind the wheel and gripped it as though afraid that if he didn’t, he’d be pulling Grace into his arms again and damn his principles.

  “I don’t do no-strings-attached sex, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes widened at the endearment and he wished he could take it back. He couldn’t get in any deeper with Grace, couldn’t let her know he still loved her. Couldn’t let his heart be broken a second time.

  “Oh, come on, Jack! We’re adults now, not fumbling virgins making out at Inspiration Point. We’re both single, so what’s the harm?”

  More harm than you could ever imagine, he thought as she reached out and touched the exposed skin above his collar. He longed to hold her hand over his heart but instead he caught it and placed it on the seat between them.

  “We’d better go. I have work to do,” he said as he started Betsy.

  “And I don’t?”

  He glanced over at her. “It’s pretty obvious you think this is some kind of game. Since you aren’t prepared to come to work dressed appropriately, it’s best if you stay away from the job site altogether.”

  “You must be joking! That’s my house. You can’t keep me away!”

  “Maybe not. But if you ever come to the site dressed like that again, you can find yourself another contractor.”

  * * *

  HIS WORDS FELT LIKE a slap in the face. A couple of minutes ago, Jack was kissing her as though she was the last woman on earth and now he was threatening to quit?

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

  “What did I do wrong?” she asked shakily.

  He cut the ignition. “What part of ‘you can’t dress like that for work’ did you not understand?”

  “I don’t mean that!” she snapped, the tears gone. “Why don’t you want to make love to me?”

  Jack stared out the windshield for a frustratingly long time. So long that Grace became aware of the sounds of the river rushing by, birds twittering in the willows, vehicles lumbering along the road above them, kids playing baseball. Everything seemed amplified and she wanted to close Betsy’s window, shut it all out so there was only her and Jack. But Betsy was so ancient she didn’t have air-conditioning, and the day was getting hotter.

  “I already told you. I don’t sleep with clients,” he said, starting Betsy up again. Her wheels spun on the gravel as he turned and drove to the main road. At the intersection he stopped and said, “Do I go left to the hardware store for some coveralls for you, or right and back to town?”

  “Where am I more likely to find another contractor?”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “Probably at the hardware store. Guys looking for work leave their cards there all the time.” Not waiting for her answer, he went left.

  She crossed her arms and slouched in the seat. “When you’re no longer my contractor, we can finish what we started back there.”

  “Whether I’m you’re contractor or not, I don’t do casual sex, Grace. Never have. Never will.”

  She sat up and glared at him. “You’re making me sound like some kind of skank!”

  He shrugged, which only infuriated her further. They parked outside the hardware store. “I’ll drop you off here to check out some leads. Since you no longer need my services, I have to get back to the house and pull the guys off the job.” He opened his glove box, found a business card and handed it to her. “This is the local cab company. You can take a taxi back to the house to get your car.”

  “You can’t leave me here like this!”

  “You want another contractor. I don’t have time to wait around while you find one.”

  Tears of confusion burned the backs of Grace’s eyes. What the hell had she done? She’d called his bluff and it had come back to bite her on the butt. Not wanting him to see her cry or realize how much he’d hurt her, Grace snatched the card from his fingers. Then she opened Betsy’s door, climbed out and marched into the store.

  * * *

  JACK STARED AT HER retreating back, noticing her cute butt as she sashayed across the parking lot.

  Her words had bitten deep, but he’d been determined not to show her he cared. He’d wanted to work on the old house, but he couldn’t do it playing cat-and-mouse with Grace. If she wanted to fire him, it was her right.

  He cursed and hit the steering wheel. What the hell had he just done?

  Chapter Seven

  Jack pulled out his cell phone and punched in Al’s number.

  “What’s up, boss?” his foreman asked. “Having trouble taming that little filly?”

  “She fired us.”

  “What the hell? What did you do to her?” Al demanded.

  “It’s not going to work, that’s all. So start packing up and get the men ready to move on to Adam’s house.”

  “I thought your brother didn’t want his house built yet.”
>
  “He was being polite,” Jack growled.

  “But I just got a huge load of lumber delivered.”

  “We’ll bill her for it. Not our problem anymore. Pack up the site. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

  “But—”

  Jack cut the connection. He was in no mood to argue with Al. No mood for anything except maybe a long ride at the ranch. He called Luke.

  “Hey, Jack, what’s up?” his oldest brother answered.

  “Where are you?” Jack asked without preamble.

  “Mending fences up in paddock seven. Why?”

  “I’ll meet you there. That okay?”

  “Sure, but aren’t you working today?”

  “Not anymore,” Jack said, and disconnected.

  He called Al back and said, “Once you’ve cleaned up the job site, give the guys the rest of the day off. I’ll talk to you later this evening. And tell the guys I’ll see them tomorrow.”

  He put away his cell and watched the doors of the hardware store, willing Grace to come out. That was a lousy thing to do, giving her the cab company’s card. Maybe he should go in and find her. He shouldn’t have let her go in the store dressed like that. The place was full of men. And men liked to stare at pretty girls, especially half-dressed ones.

  * * *

  GRACE HAD GONE straight to the restroom inside the store. She slammed the door of a stall, sat on the toilet and let the tears flow. What was Jack’s problem? He’d fired her? Just because she wanted sex?

  Lord, how she wanted him! She’d been more turned on in those couple of minutes with Jack than she’d ever been during her entire lousy excuse of a marriage.

  Maybe she didn’t turn him on in the same way? That thought produced a fresh flood of tears.

  “Hello? Are you okay?”

  Grace heard a woman’s voice outside the stall. She grabbed a handful of toilet paper and blew her nose.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered.

  “You don’t sound fine, honey,” the woman said. “Come on out and let’s talk.”

  “I...don’t want...to talk. I just want to...to cry.”

  “You can do both. Come on. I’m a good listener,” the woman said. “It’s a man, isn’t it?”