Grant groaned at the thought of satin and lace in his bedroom—and on his oil rig. As if life wasn’t hard enough without courting disaster. First thing in the morning, he planned on issuing Caitlin a standard pair of overalls with the intention of covering her from chin to toe. He didn’t want his crew catching so much as a peek of lace about their new geologist. Just maybe a hard hat would manage to hide that luxurious, distracting tumble of mahogany hair, he thought hopefully.
Irritated at the thought of sleeping on a raggedy old couch while Paddy’s little princess slept undisturbed in his bed, Grant was tempted to put a pea under the mattress before leaving the room.
Caitlin’s jaw went slack at the sight of Grant sauntering into the living room with his dark hair damp and glistening from the shower. Wearing nothing but a pair of worn jeans with a missing top snap, he was all sinew and muscles and mouthwatering masculinity. She had caught an eyeful earlier of his impressive forearms and biceps, but a T-shirt had covered the rest of his upper body. His pectoral muscles and rippled stomach seemed to Caitlin the single most beautiful thing she had ever encountered in her life. She disliked hairy chests and backs that made some men look more like bears than humans. Grant’s chest had just enough to make her want to run her hands over the rock-hard contours of a body honed by hard labor.
The mere thought of sleeping in his bed made her feel wobbly. The college boys she’d dated were nothing compared to the virile hunk standing so nonchalantly before her with a lazy thumb hitched into his waistband. His imposing presence and overt sexuality hit her like a ton of testosterone. Belatedly Caitlin snapped her mouth shut.
“Sorry, folks,” Grant said with an unapologetic yawn. “But if you don’t mind moving off the couch, I’d like to go to bed now.”
Although no innuendo was intended, just the word bed coming from his mouth was enough to make Caitlin redden with the weight of her inexperience. Unwilling to subject herself to the kind of teasing she had endured as a child regarding those embarrassing telltale blushes, she hopped right up.
“Of course. I’d like to get a good night’s sleep for the first day on the job myself.”
She started to make a quick getaway but turned around before she had gotten halfway out of the room and hurried back to drop a kiss upon her father’s weathered cheek. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Grant had missed a tiny spot on his back with that towel he had draped over his shoulder. It was all she could do to refrain from asking if he would like her to dry him off.
“Good night,” she chirped and as an afterthought added from her childhood memory, “Sleep tight.”
“It’s the only way I’m going to keep from falling off the sofa,” Grant grumbled as he flattened himself against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Too tired to belabor the fact that he’d been so neatly displaced, he attempted to go to sleep with one arm securely anchored over the back of the couch.
Caitlin could no more banish her guilt at having put him out of his bed than she could dismiss the haunting image of that incredibly sexy little trickle of water on the broad expanse of his back. She took her locket off and set it carefully on top of the dresser before slipping into her pajamas, turning off the lights, and climbing into bed. Tired as she was, sleep proved nonetheless elusive. Deep cleansing breaths were of little help. The scent that was exclusively Grant Davis tickled her nose. Caitlin rubbed the edging of the cotton sheet to her face and breathed in his very essence. A miraculous blend of woods and sagebrush and pure masculinity, it made her feel far too intimate with a man whom she was certain had every intention of firing her just as soon as he could possibly get away with it.
Five
Sunrise was painting the horizon with blazing swirls of orange, pink, and crimson when Caitlin arrived on the drilling floor. She was wearing the coveralls Grant had set out for her. He couldn’t decide whether to shake his head in disgust or to chuckle in amusement at the sight. With sleeves and cuffs rolled up and a hard hat falling down to her eyes, she reminded him a little of Charlie Brown in full winter regalia, so encumbered by his clothes that he could hardly move.
Caitlin scowled when she saw him in his clean T-shirt and jeans.
A night of sleep hadn’t improved either one’s disposition. Exhausted, Grant had slept hard but awakened early, stiff, sore, and grumpy from sleeping on the couch. For her part, Caitlin had found it far easier blocking out the bright night lights that lit the rig up at night than the erotic, unsatisfying dreams that had curled about her like the haunting fragrance of a lost lover.
“Good morning.” Fighting first-day-on-the-job jitters, she made a conscious effort to sound as if she’d been doing this for years. “I want a core sample to see where you’re at and what’s going on down there.”
Grant leaned idly against the brake and studied her as if someone had just pulled the string on a cute little “career exploration” doll.
“Core samples take time,” he replied shortly, “and that’s something I can’t afford to waste. Since we only have a limited amount of time to make this hole pay off, your core sample just isn’t going to happen. Sorry.”
Caitlin knew he wasn’t. Grinding her teeth, she forced herself to smile sweetly. “According to procedure, there is a proper way for things to be done and—”
Grant interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “With all due deference to your ‘procedures,’ there’s a whole lot more to learn about this business than what you read in books. Things like gut instinct and a nose for oil that comes only from experience.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, giving Caitlin the impression of an older brother searching for a slick way to ditch some tagalong younger sibling. “Tell you what. Let’s make a deal,” he suggested. “If you’ll try to stay out of the way, I’ll see what I can do to make sure you get a good recommendation and a gold star on your resume for when you decide to get a desk job some place back in Texas.”
Caitlin jammed her fists into her armpits to keep from smacking him. “How dare you—”
“I dare because your daddy’s not around right at the moment, but my guess is that he feels the same way that I do.” Giving the appearance of a man who had wrestled demons through the night, Grant sighed deeply and rubbed the crick in his neck. “Nonetheless, I’d like to make the best of a bad situation. Since we’re stuck here with each other, I don’t see any reason that this arrangement can’t be mutually beneficial to everyone concerned.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrowed as he pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and offered her a stick. Shaking her head, she forced herself to hear him out.
He folded a piece into his mouth and pondered it a moment before continuing. “Just do as you’re told, and whenever I can spare the time, I’ll be glad to help you get some of that precious on-the-job training that you were crying about earlier.”
Clinging desperately to her pride, Caitlin tried to keep her voice even as she attempted to paraphrase. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You want me to be nothing more than an official figurehead so that you can claim compliance with regulations. Then you can bend the rules to accommodate your freewheeling style. And in return for my compliance, you’ll share some of your invaluable, gut-level expertise with me. Is that about it?”
“Pretty much,” Grant agreed through a slow, sexy smile that had Caitlin wanting to put her fist right through his pearly white teeth.
Leaning forward so that she was close enough to smell the spearmint on his breath, she tapped him solidly in the middle of his chest. “Mister, you are going to take a core sample. Whether you like it or not, my credentials, position, and knowledge give me authority over you. And if I have to shut down this rig to prove it to you, I will!”
Grant guffawed. “You want me to believe that you’d shut down your own daddy’s oil rig.”
“Just like that,” she lied, snapping the fingers of her other hand right in front of his nose.
“You listen to me, honey,” he said, dropping his voice
to a menacing growl and removing her finger from the bull’s-eye which was apparently tattooed on the center of his chest. “A woman can’t physically win a pissing contest with a man, and you’d best not forget it.”
“Maybe not, sweetie,” she countered taking equal offense to both the endearment and the crudity. “But a woman certainly is favored in a thinking contest.”
They glared at one another for the count of ten, neither willing to be the first to back down. In the stalemate in which they found themselves entrenched, Caitlin hoped Grant didn’t call her bluff. As angry as she was at the moment, she would do exactly as she had threatened. And although Grant put little faith in the determination blazing in Caitlin’s eyes, he couldn’t afford to press his luck. Not with the government. Not with Paddy.
A man of few friends, Grant valued his relationship with Paddy even more than he did the success of their business. Drifting through the shock of his parents’ deaths, he had been uprooted when he was sixteen and dumped into his Aunt Edna’s home. Seeing to it that he had little time to “idle with the devil,” his dear auntie hired him out for every backbreaking job she could find to add to the family coffers. There had been no carefree years filled with the usual high school activities and fun-loving pals for young Grant Davis. No one seemed much inclined to listen to what some wiry orphan with a chip on his shoulder had to say about his future. No one except Paddy Flynn, ironically the man he had initially blamed for his father’s death.
Grant had awakened this morning with his mind made up. No bratty college upstart was going to come between him and the man he had come to think of as a father.
“Well,” he said, smirking as he popped his gum. “Here comes your daddy now. I’ll just leave it to you to explain to him why all of a sudden we’re going to be so unnecessarily behind schedule.”
Caitlin pasted a smile over dry teeth. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize her shaky position in the company the first five minutes on the job. She hated Grant for foisting the responsibility of breaking this news to her father. Though she’d never seen it herself, rumor had it that Paddy had a nasty temper when it came to what he considered “tomfool” regulations.
“Everything all right?” he asked, huffing as he topped the last step on the way to the drilling floor.
Slipping an arm through his, Caitlin hastened to assure him, “I was just telling Grant that I’d like to take a—”
“Hold on, darlin’. Before anything else, I want to introduce you to the crew. Why don’t you come along with us to the doghouse, Grant?” Paddy asked. “The boys should be up as soon as they finish their breakfast.”
Grant nodded his head agreeably and followed them across the drilling floor to the little metal building that housed the crew. Caitlin thought that the term doghouse was an apt name for the stark, utilitarian structure. Decorations inside were limited to bawdy pictures torn from magazines. Finding them highly inappropriate for the workplace, Caitlin wondered just how mad the men would be if their pinups were to suddenly disappear.
Hoping for a professional introduction from her father, one that downplayed their family ties while emphasizing her qualifications, she swept the hat from her head and smiled nervously as Paddy assembled the men. He wrapped a protective arm around his daughter’s shoulders.
“I want you all to meet my little girl,” he said throwing his chest out pridefully in much the same manner Caitlin imagined he had announced her birth twenty-two years ago. All that was missing was the cigars.
“She’s gonna be the on-site geologist for this job, and I want you all to treat her like the lady she is.”
Thinking she heard Grant choke behind her, Caitlin resisted the urge to jab her elbow into his ribs.
“That is,” Paddy continued, his cheerful bright blue eyes suddenly darkening, “if any of you so much a lay a finger on her, I’ll break your arms with a pipe wrench!”
Mortified, Caitlin found herself wishing that the hot blush which engulfed her would reduce her to a little pile of cinders on the spot. She caught a glimpse of Grant out of the corner of her eye. Raising a fist behind her father’s back, he silently reinforced Paddy’s words. Every man there understood the tacit warning that Grant would back the older man up if the need were to arise. Recognizing the fact that it was his intention to spare Paddy’s feelings, Caitlin could think of little else besides her own humiliation. To be championed old-West-style with her nemesis providing backup was almost too much to bear.
Was it so much to ask to be allowed the unencumbered opportunity to earn the crew’s respect on her own? It was clear to Caitlin by their resentful scowls that she wouldn’t be receiving a genuine warm welcome from any of them soon. Not that she could blame them. Running head-on into a solid wall of family alliance could be painful.
Feeling like the on-site leper, she smiled weakly at them.
“Didn’t you have something you wanted to say to your daddy?” Grant prompted.
When she looked at him blankly, he feigned helpfulness. “About a core sample?”
Paddy looked expectantly at her. “What is it, darlin’?”
Resenting the fact that Grant had trapped her into a situation in which she would have to blurt out her intentions in front of the crew without benefit of privately consulting with her father first, she glared daggers at him. If Paddy didn’t back her on this, she would be exactly what Grant had predicted—a pretty little puppet.
“I was just telling Grant,” she said evenly, “that we need to take a core sample before continuing.”
Paddy looked as if she had slapped him with a cold, wet rag. Not only was it cost-prohibitive to stop and pull the pipe when they were in the midst of drilling hole, it would also be necessary to change the drill bit—all of which was time-consuming and labor intensive work. It could shut down the usual flow of operations for up to thirty-six hours. Caitlin was relieved to see that the crew looked far less upset by the change in plans than her father. Then again, they were paid by the hour so deadlines were no skin off their noses.
Paddy started to stammer his protest, but Caitlin shut him down with the proud tilt of her jaw. He rubbed his forehead hard and considered for a moment a number of factors: time, cost, inconvenience—and the feelings his daughter wore so openly on those thick, rolled-up sleeves. When he looked up and realized that the entire crew was watching him as intently as their favorite action movie actor, he barked, “Well, you heard the lady. Best get to it.”
Caitlin’s heart leapt to her eyes. She shot a triumphant glance at Grant, but her victory was short-lived. The second the last man was out of the doghouse and the three of them were alone, Paddy fixed his eyes upon her with precision accuracy. She squirmed uncomfortably. For the life of her, Caitlin felt six years old all over again—standing before the shards of what was once her mother’s favorite heirloom cut glass bowl.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“My job,” she shot back, standing her ground with spine ramrod straight, refusing to allow either her chin or her voice to quiver in front of Grant.
Suddenly the skin around Paddy’s eyes crinkled with a proud smile, and Caitlin remembered how her fear of getting a well-deserved spanking all those years ago had been as unfounded as her worry that Paddy would actually undermine her authority in front of the crew. Over a decade ago he had wiped away both his daughter’s and wife’s tears, explaining how mistakes were nothing more than excellent opportunities for learning. The bowl, he assured his distraught wife, could be replaced far more easily than their daughter’s heart.
Paddy turned to Grant with the same matter-of-fact, go-toit attitude he had instilled in his daughter. “I’ll rotate into the schedule today wherever you want me. That way we’ll have a better chance of making up the time lost. I’m sure you understand how important it is for Caitlin to establish herself right up front with the crew. I’d really appreciate all the help you can give her. It’d mean a lot to me.”
Caitlin wa
s astonished to see all the fight go out of Grant with nothing more than a sincere request for help. Surely he was as worried as she about the strain the extra work would place upon her father. She could not know how Paddy’s well-chosen words evoked the memory of a similar show of support for Grant. As a young upstart, Grant had felt the need to prove himself to a driller twice his age and size. By all rights Paddy should have run them both off for brawling on the job. Instead he allowed them to work through their differences on their own—and he took Grant aside to show him some boxing moves he’d perfected in the army. In his prime, Paddy Flynn had been a formidable specimen of manhood.
“Yes, sir,” Grant replied solemnly, knowing full well how difficult it was going to be to live up to that pledge.
“And, young lady,” Paddy said, turning to speak directly to his daughter. “In the future I’d sure appreciate it if you’d work as a team player.”
Caitlin knew better than to try to defend herself at the moment. There would be time enough to discuss it with him later. And with the dirty rat who had deliberately set her atop the horns of a dilemma for the sheer pleasure of seeing her publicly punctured.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, resenting the fact that she had just parroted Grant. “In the future I promise to check with you first.”
Paddy shook his head. “No, darlin’. Check with Grant, and I’ll trust the two of you to do what’s best for this company.”
With that he took his leave. Like two tigers in a cage eyeing the same piece of meat, Caitlin and Grant considered each other warily. However much they felt betrayed by one another, their allegiance to Paddy was only strengthened by this incident. Caitlin fretted her lower lip between her teeth. When she demanded the core sample, she had had no intention of working her father longer and harder than usual to make up for lost time. That he would willingly do so to keep from compromising her position made her heart swell up like a balloon inside her chest. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to be worthy of that good man’s approval!
The Cowboy Takes A Bride (The Bridal Bid #2) Page 5