Sadie escorted him to the door, shutting it behind him. Not looking at Colt, she picked up the mug and hurried into the kitchen.
He followed. “What was Carelli doing here?”
She slammed the mug down in the sink. “What are you doing here? You never answered that.”
“I came here to apologize. Now, what was Carelli doing here?”
Sadie spun to look at him. “Apologize?” A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “You aren’t doing a very good job of it.”
“No.” He eyed Sadie cautiously, his nervousness returning. He didn’t know what it was about this woman that put him on edge, but whatever it was, he didn’t particularly care for it. He’d heard that if someone was a nervous speaker he should picture the audience naked, a visual of Sadie that had become quite familiar. He’d spent way too long the night before imagining just that. The way her butt had filled his hand yesterday was enough to give him a very nice picture of her, maybe wearing a sexy thong. Santa Claus red, he decided. His body hardened and his mind blanked as all his blood flowed south.
Wait. Shit, what were they talking about? Right, apologies. “Uh, I don’t have much experience with them, so I’m sure I’m not up to form.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Sadie said, her voice as overly sweet as the fudge Janice made him every year for Christmas.
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize for . . .”
“Yes?”
“Being abrupt with you. I know you didn’t intentionally wreck my truck.” Colt released a deep breath. There. It was done.
“Abrupt?” Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t know if that’s the word I would have gone with. A jerk, a tool—”
“Sadie.” He let out a warning growl.
“Or just plain mean. ‘Abrupt’ really is too vague to mean much of anything.”
“I am becoming less sorry by the second.” Colt stepped closer and glared down at her.
“Then I guess I had better accept your apology now before you take it back.” She stuck out her hand and grinned. His heart did a little tap dance at her sweet smile. Maybe he had been a tool.
His large hand slowly enveloped hers, his thumb stroking the silky soft skin above her knuckles. A truce with this woman wouldn’t be so bad. Satisfaction spread through his body when Sadie’s eyes widened and her smile faltered at his touch. He got to her, too.
“Um, Colt, why did you come here this morning? You could have waited until I arrived at the town square.” She tugged gently at her hand and he let it slide through his fingers.
“Oh, yeah, the second part of my apology. I’m driving you until your car gets checked out. It was running rough yesterday and might not be safe to drive.” He picked up her parka, which was lying on the back of a threadbare sofa, held it out for her.
Sadie slid her arms into the sleeves. “I can’t afford any repair bills right now. It’s running and that’s all that matters.”
“You won’t feel that way when it stalls in the dark on one of the back roads here.” His hands rested on her shoulders. “Besides, this is part of my apology. One of my buddies will come by here to take a look at it. Just leave the keys in the ignition.”
She turned and stared at him, mouth slackening in disbelief. “I can’t leave the keys in the ignition.”
He herded her to the front door. Picking up the coffee he had brought her from where she’d left it on the table in the front entry, he pressed it into her hand. “Sure you can. This is Pineville. Nobody’s going to steal your car.” He opened her front door and waited for her to lock it. “And frankly, the way it looks now, who would want it?”
Sadie still didn’t look like she believed him, but went to her car and left the keys where he said, then climbed into the truck he was driving. His company name was painted on the door beneath a logo of two interlocking Bs. “Better Builders. That’s your company?” she asked.
The truck rumbled to life and Colt eased down the dirt drive. “That’s my company.” He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. Legally, anyway. It sometimes felt like his father was still running the show.
“David kept comparing his company to BB, but I didn’t know what he was talking about.” Sadie shot him a look. “He wasn’t very complimentary of your company.”
His knuckles turned white. “And he was at your house this morning because . . . ?”
“That’s really not your business.” Sadie took a sip of coffee. “But I’ll tell you anyway. He was looking over the house to make me an offer.” She slumped into her seat. “Of course, he needed to point out every problem the house has, and it has a lot. I’ll be lucky if I can sell it for what’s left on the mortgage.”
His shoulders unclenched and he relaxed into his seat. He didn’t trust that Carelli was only interested in her house. He glanced at the woman beside him. What sane man wouldn’t want her? But it sounded as though Sadie wasn’t interested. “Selling now isn’t your only option. You could make the repairs yourself and get a higher price.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of time and work.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I don’t know if I’d be able to do that right now. I’ve got a lot of balls in the air.”
He reached over and took her coffee. He sipped at it and smiled at her outraged expression. “That’s where a good contractor comes in.”
“You took my coffee!”
Colt put it back in her hand. “We’re sharing.”
“I don’t share coffee.” Sadie eyed the cup like it was a live grenade.
“Ah, only-child syndrome rears its ugly head,” he said. Sadie narrowed her eyes. She sniffed at the plastic opening of the lid and tentatively put it to her lips. A bolt of lust shot through Colt as she drank, followed by disgust. What was he, twelve, to like the fact that she put her lips where his had been?
“I guess it’s fine,” she muttered. Turning in her seat, she shot him a look, her head cocked. “So, are you from a big family?”
He pulled into a parking space at the town square. Cutting the engine, he gazed out the windshield, the coffee in his stomach turning to lead. “I had a brother.”
“Had?” Sadie asked in a small voice.
“Yes. Caleb. He died.” He shot her a hard look. “And I don’t want to talk about it.” He got out of the truck and started walking to the tree. Sadie’s soft steps pattered behind him.
“When did you get the scaffolding set up?” she asked.
Colt appreciated the change in subject. A lot of people would keep poking at him, eager to shovel on a heap of pity. “Last night. Some of my crew came by with the equipment and we set it up. We also, uh, finished stringing the lights.” He watched her from the corner of his eye.
“Well, plug her in. Let’s see what we have.”
He hesitated.
Sadie’s lips twitched. “You’re not scared, are you? That I’ll disapprove of the job you did?”
His eyes narrowed. “That you’ll make me take off the lights and do it again, maybe.” Scared of her? He’d never admit to that. Nor would he admit that he’d pissed off half a dozen of his men by insisting they wind the lights around each bough from back to front, just like Sadie had instructed.
He stalked to a light pole about fifteen feet from the tree. The Pineville Fire Department had run the power cord from the top of the tree to the pole and wound it down to a temporary power box at chest level. He plugged the extension cord in and turned back to Sadie to observe her reaction. She wasn’t oohing in appreciation, but her forehead also wasn’t creasing as it usually did when she didn’t like what she saw. She circled the tree silently and his shoulders bunched with every passing second. When she was back in front of him, she gave him a smile, and he released a deep breath.
“It looks pretty good. Just a few dark patches, but I can fix those easily enough.”
“Dark patches?” He walked to her side and surveyed the tree. “What are you talking about? Last night this tree was lit up so bright you could land p
lanes by it.”
Sadie rubbed his arm and he glanced down at her hand in surprise. She quickly pulled it back.
“Yes, well.” She cleared her throat. “Like I said, just a few small areas. I’ll rearrange the lights, punch up some sections with more depth, and it will be fine.”
“Hmm.” He fingered the sleeve she’d touched, enjoying the light flush that crept over her face. The pink only made the freckles that dusted her cheeks and nose more prominent. She was adorable when she was embarrassed.
“Anyway, you can start with the ornaments and as soon as I finish up, I’ll join you.” She brushed her bangs across her forehead, raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to object, or make some rude comment about me up on the scaffolding?”
“Nope. I told the guys last night to double bolt it. Even you couldn’t tip it over.”
She huffed and went to climb up the metal lattice, her long legs eating away at the ladder. The way Sadie filled out a pair of jeans was criminal. She moved around the tree and out of his view.
Sighing, Colt turned his attention to the ornaments. By the time she returned to him, he had sorted all the boxes of ornaments by size and color. The boxes formed a wall three feet high and at least ten feet long.
“That’s not going to be nearly enough ornaments,” she said.
“Are you kidding? I bought out the store.” He waved a hand at the wall of boxes.
“Trust me. For a tree this size, we need a lot more decoration. How much money do we have left from the city’s budget?” She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them. She had forgotten her gloves and Colt frowned. He shouldn’t have hustled her out of her house so fast.
“Negative twenty-eight.” At Sadie’s raised brow, he explained. “I paid the twenty-eight dollars after we went over our budget. Anything else we buy from here on out will be on us.” That didn’t bother him. He was happy to donate to the lighting ceremony. Hell, if Jerome and the entire town hadn’t been watching, he would have been tempted to pay a crew to decorate the stupid tree. He swept a broad hand toward the boxes. “Or we can just make do with the Great Wall of Ornaments that we have.”
“I don’t like to just ‘make do,’” Sadie said. “Every house I stage I give one hundred percent.” She pressed her lips into a white slash. “I would hope you do the same.” She began opening boxes.
He knelt next to her. “With my work, of course I do. With crap like this, I don’t think you need to be quite such a perfectionist. We have limited time and resources. We do the best we can, not the best that can be done.”
“She’s right, you know,” a high-pitched voice interrupted. Colt turned. Eugenie Shaw and Deborah Garcia stood looking at the tree, their noses raised in joint expressions of distaste. Miss Eugenie adjusted her wool hat, snapped a picture of the unfinished tree with her phone. “You’ll need twice as many ornaments. Why Judge Nichols thought you would be able to do this properly, heaven only knows.”
Shep wandered over to Sadie and snuffled at her hand. Wearing red knit booties on each of his paws, the poor guy looked completely ridiculous. Colt pressed his lips flat, fought his smile. He knew Mrs. Garcia was responsible for the doggie fashion don’t, and didn’t want to hurt her feelings. The woman liked to pull out her knitting needles anytime she sat down, and was proud of her work.
Sadie jerked her hand away before giving the old dog a quick pat on the head. He leaned into her leg and gave her an adoring look. Dogs could always tell if someone was afraid of them, and Shep, being the sweetheart that he was, seemed eager to soothe Sadie’s fears. Leaning down, she gave him a good scratch behind the ears.
Colt gave the older women a tight smile. “Well, if all the ornaments hadn’t been incinerated last year, then I’d have enough, wouldn’t I?”
Mrs. Garcia gasped in outrage. “That fire was not our fault, young man. If the fire marshal hadn’t overreacted—”
Miss Eugenie patted her friend’s arm. “Now Debbie, don’t let him get to you. Remember your blood pressure. It looks like Clarion Township is going to win this year, but we’ll get them next Christmas. Considering the way the tree will look this Thursday, I can’t imagine the city council not reinstating us as the decorating committee.”
He blew out a breath. “So your Twitter campaign didn’t pan out?” Damn, that would have solved a lot of his problems.
Miss Eugenie tugged on the brim of her hat. “Judge Nichols made it very clear you two had to do this for community service. We decided to respect his wishes.”
“That and the mayor unfriended us on Facebook.” Mrs. Garcia bristled. “And I used to babysit that boy.”
“Nevertheless, when your tree is a disaster, they’ll come back, begging for our help next year.” Miss Eugenie patted her thigh, and Shep waddled over. “Let’s go, Debbie. We have shopping to do.” The two woman linked arms and marched out of the square. Shep drifted in their wake, four booted paws dragging.
Sadie moved to his side. “What was that all about? Who’s winning what?”
“I have no idea. And with those two, it’s usually better not knowing.” He picked up a box of large red ornaments and began hanging them on the lower branches.
“But what’s this fire people keep talking about?”
“Hi there, Colt,” Jerome said, coming to stand next to them, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. “Miss Wilson.” The officer nodded at Sadie. “How’s it going today?”
“Well, we’re on to the ornaments, so I think we’ll finish in plenty of time for the tree lighting, Officer Wilson,” she said.
“Ma’am, any woman who gives me cookies can call me Jerome.”
“As long as you call me Sadie.” She gave the cop a warm smile.
Colt’s eyes narrowed. What the hell? “You gave Jerome my cookies?”
“You didn’t want them. Refused delivery. They weren’t your cookies anymore.” Sadie ripped the top off of one of the boxes. “So, yes, I gave them to Jerome.”
Rocking back on his heels, Jerome said to him, “They were the best damned peanut butter cookies I ever ate. Moist and spicy with that little Hershey’s kiss on top.” He held his thumb and index finger kiss-sized apart. “You know the kind?”
“I know the kind.” He loved that kind.
“And they were delicious.” Jerome’s wide smile shone blindingly white against his mocha skin. “You should never turn down a woman’s cookies, Colt. I thought your dad would have taught you better than that.”
He knew Jerome was needling him, but he growled anyway.
“Anyways, Katie and I loved them.”
“Katie?” Sadie asked.
“My little girl.” Jerome reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, showed Sadie a picture. “Her mother and I are divorced and I only have her part-time.”
Colt dragged Sadie away from her oohing and aahing. “Ornaments to hang, work to do.” He practically lifted her onto the scaffolding, started stacking boxes alongside her.
“Well, that was rude,” Sadie said while she waved goodbye to Jerome.
“I have a business to get back to. I don’t have time for your flirting.” With another man, at least. It was starting to tick him off that she was all smiles for every other man in town, but saved her scowls just for him. He hadn’t been at his friendliest with her, but she’d destroyed his brother’s truck, damn it. Wasn’t it her duty to be extra nice to him?
“Just when I think . . . You’re a real jerk, you know that?” Sadie stood glaring down at him, her hands on her hips.
“Princess, I don’t care what you think of me. As soon as we get this done, you can go back home and won’t have to tolerate my jerkiness anymore.” He rubbed a hand against his chest. “In a couple of weeks, this will all just be a bad memory.”
She began hanging ornaments without responding to him. Colt followed suit. They worked without speaking, the only noise between them the occasional squeak of the scaffolding as one of them climbed up or down. They each picked a side of t
he tree and stayed there.
Colt was frequently interrupted by his curious neighbors. Tips and friendly criticisms were laid at his ear, all of which he ignored. Sadie shook hands and laughed with the passersby as if she’d lived here her entire life. Finally, he’d had enough.
He glared at a neighbor; a guy he’d played high school ball with. “Bert, we are not making a Lions-football-themed tree. And if you don’t leave me alone, there won’t be any tree.” Raising his voice, he added, “Everyone, we need to get back to work. Thank you for the interest, but you have to let Sadie and me get back to it. Time to go.” He shooed the stragglers back from the scaffolding.
Bert grumbled to a neighbor, “There might have been some mishaps, but at least Eugenie and Debbie had style.”
They worked for another half hour before Allison strolled over from her café. “Hey, guys. It’s past lunchtime. I brought you some sandwiches.”
He stretched his back, already tired. This was going to be a long week.
Wandering over from the scaffolding, Sadie pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket, nibbled on her bottom lip, and shoved it back in her pants. Turning to Allison, she gave her a smile. “Thanks a lot. I’m starved. What did you bring?”
Colt reached the bag first. He pulled out two sandwiches and handed one to Sadie.
“Chicken salad,” Allison said. “I hope you like it.” From another bag, she handed Colt and Sadie cans of soda. “Ah, who am I kidding? Of course you’ll like it. I’m a fantastic cook.”
“And so modest, too.” Sadie settled herself on a bench and unwrapped her food.
Allison plopped down next to her, her platinum curls bouncing. “You ready for tonight? I plan on dancing a lot, so no four-inch heels. Can’t have you slowing me down.”
“It’s a good thing I left all my Louboutins at home then,” Sadie said dryly.
Colt sat on the other side of Sadie. “You guys are going out tonight?”
“Yep.” Sadie took another bite of her sandwich. “It turns out we’re old friends.”
The Christmas Tree Page 6