Hammer, Nails, and Happily Ever After?

by Mitzi Kelly

  But she did glance at her phone one more time before turning out the lights and heading for her bedroom.

  ****

  Greg slowed his truck as he approached Ginger’s house. He was disappointed to find the lights out, but it was late, and he wasn’t really surprised she’d gone to bed. He’d hoped to find her still awake, though, so he could drop in and razzle-dazzle her with his charm, something he planned to do on a regular basis.

  If she thought one episode of incredible sex was enough, then she was sadly mistaken. He was confident he and Ginger were mature enough to handle a physical relationship along with their friendship because, while they enjoyed being together, neither of them wanted anything more serious.

  His stomach—and other more sensitive parts of his body—tightened just thinking about how she’d felt in his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips, her soft moans of pleasure whispering in his ear.

  Taking a deep breath and shifting in the seat, Greg forced his thoughts elsewhere. Where had she put the roses he’d given her? Were they in her kitchen or maybe the bedroom? He recalled the cute blush that had crept up her face when everyone teased her about having a secret admirer. She’d carefully avoided looking at him, but he’d caught the sparkle in her eyes before she lowered them.

  Greg gave her house one last look and then headed for home. The meeting with Clyde had turned into an all-day event, ending with dinner at Clyde’s spacious five-bedroom home after touring the jobsite. The dinner had been excellent, but he couldn’t help but compare the elegant surroundings and formal dinner to Ginger’s comfortable—albeit ravaged—home and leftover pizza.

  He didn’t just enjoy the home Ginger was working so hard to create; he also enjoyed the easy, natural way she was doing it. He loved the way her eyes would light up while she worked on a project, and she wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty while she was doing it. Such a contrast to the type of women he had grown accustomed to. Those women usually went out of their way to prove how feminine they were, how fragile and helpless they were without a strong, rich man to help them.

  He knew he was exaggerating. He had never really cared enough to scratch the surface of a woman’s layers. He hadn’t looked past the pretty face or alluring body. He wasn’t interested in a permanent relationship, so he tolerated their games. Until Ginger, that was. She was definitely different, and refreshingly so.

  When he pulled into his driveway, the porch light was on, and Justin and Steve were sitting on the steps. The three brothers often held their own meetings relaxing on the front porch, sipping beer in the evenings and coffee in the mornings, discussing everything and anything. But Greg had other things on his mind, and for once, he wasn’t in the mood for a talkfest.

  “Did you get lost?” Steve called out with a grin.

  Greg sighed. Whether he was in the mood or not, it looked like he was going to be sitting a while with his brothers. “No,” he said, reaching for the beer Justin held out to him. “Just had to make a quick stop.” He sat down on the bottom step and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  “Good,” Steve said in mock seriousness. “I thought you had fallen back into your evil ways. You haven’t been out partying in so long I was hoping you weren’t experiencing a relapse tonight.”

  “Very funny.” Greg rolled his eyes and took a sip of the beer. “And how would you know whether I’ve been out partying or not?”

  “Well, unless you’ve discovered you get luckier dressing in ratty work clothes than you do in regular attire, I’d say you definitely haven’t been out on the prowl.”

  Greg shot his brother a warning look, but Steve ignored him.

  “Of course, maybe playing hard to get the past couple of years has severely limited the field of likely candidates for you to play with. Pretending to be homeless may have its benefits with the more sympathetic female. Women are made to nurture, and you’ve been looking like you could use some nurturing.”

  Greg quickly leaned over and poured the remainder of his beer in Steve’s lap.

  “Hey!” Steve yelped, then laughed as he scrambled to stand up. “I was just teasing!”

  “Gee, so was I,” Greg said sardonically.

  Steve grinned as he headed for the door. “You better come up with a better strategy than being down and out, little brother. Your mood tells me you haven’t been lucky in quite a while.”

  Greg turned his head and looked out toward the street. If Steve only knew.

  The door closed behind Steve, and Justin looked at Greg. “Are you having woman trouble again? If someone is stalking you, you could always find another one of your girlfriends to pretend you’re engaged or something. That would send a message to your stalker.”

  Greg hung his head and groaned. “Is everybody a comedian in this family?”

  Justin laughed and leaned over to slap him on the back. “This is your own fault. Your love life has provided many hours of entertainment. But on to a more important matter. Carl Rothberg sent me an email message that I didn’t see until we got home. He’s ready to finalize everything on the Sharmon Oil Company’s new office building project and schedule a start date. I replied one of us would meet with him tomorrow. We’ll have to meet with the city inspector and apply for the building permit and notify the subcontractors. I’m thinking it will take a few days. And by we, I mean you. Steve has to do the photo layout on Clyde’s job, and I have that speech I’m giving at the Building Contractors Forum downtown.”

  Steve came back outside wearing a T-shirt and a pair of shorts and carrying three cold beers. “Lucky you, you can get out of town for a while and let all your adoring fans cool their heels.” He passed out the beers.

  Greg opened his bottle. “You know, Steve, if this construction gig doesn’t work out for you, you can always become a standup comedian.”

  Steve chuckled. “You know I’m just joking. It just strikes me as funny that for the past couple of years you’ve tried so hard to convince everyone you’re a player without ever worrying about the consequences, and now it appears you’re bored with that. I think it’s a positive change.”

  “Do you want to wear another beer?”

  Steve plopped down in his chair. He asked Justin a question about Clyde’s job, but Greg tuned his brothers out. He took a sip of his beer and turned to look out over the yard. This wasn’t the first time one of his brothers had made a not-so-subtle comment about his drastic personality change following his ill-fated engagement to Shandra. And as before, he chose to ignore it. Even though they had given him their full support and understanding, Greg knew there was really no way they could comprehend what had happened to him the night it all ended.

  Still, it didn’t give him any pleasure to know he was successful in portraying a person who didn’t give a damn about anybody else. He did care. Hell, if anything, he cared too much. That’s why he vowed he would never let a woman capture his heart ever again. There was safety in being polite and friendly, as long as he remembered to hold a part of himself back. And by doing so, he never risked the same emotional trauma he had barely survived two years ago.

  He reflected on the ironic synchronism of his and Ginger’s past. They had both believed themselves to be in love with people who were users, people who went after what they wanted with no regard to honesty and decency.

  He’d promised himself he would never allow another person to have that kind of control over him again. And for two years he’d been successful. His strategy had worked perfectly. He had many friends—of both sexes—that he could call at a moment’s notice. Sure, he knew when a woman wanted more than he was willing to offer—marriage, family, a home—but he never pretended he had the same goals. He never intentionally led a woman to believe he was interested in more than a few fun nights of casual entertainment, and he refused to feel guilty about what he wanted.

  He suddenly felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing to Ginger? She said she only wanted a friendship with
him. She’d been upfront and honest. And he’d decided he was going to change her mind. What a hypocrite. But on the heels of that thought came the realization the situation with Ginger was different. He’d seen the desire in her eyes, he’d felt the wild explosion of her body pressed close to his, and he knew her fear of becoming more than just friends stemmed from mistrust and insecurity.

  The main thing he had going for him was that he would never lie to her, and he would never use her for his own selfish reasons. He would convince her they could have fun together, they could be completely truthful with each other, and when it was over, there would be no hurt feelings or expectations of anything more.

  Now, thanks to this unexpected trip to Dallas, he would have to wait to begin his campaign to win her over. Fate could sure be a fickle thing.

  ****

  Ginger had enough work to do to keep her busy for several days without a break. Some new jobs were starting, and some existing jobs were wrapping up, all of it requiring cost breakdowns, reports, and scheduling, checks to prepare for the subcontractors, and deposits to be made. She shouldn’t have had time to feel any disappointment Greg was out of town for a few days. But she did.

  At least Justin and Steve had been too busy today to notice she jumped every time the front door opened, or that she glanced at the clock every fifteen minutes or so. It was Friday, and the day had passed surprisingly fast, despite her mind deciding to take a leave of absence.

  Greg had placed a note on her desk the morning he left for Dallas, giving her his itinerary, detailed instructions on a couple of things he needed her to handle for him while he was gone, and a one-line sentence stating he would be back before the office closed on Friday. She glanced at the clock again. The odds were he wasn’t going to make it.

  Steve had left the office over an hour ago, and she knew Justin was planning on working late. With a sigh, Ginger turned her neck from side to side to loosen the tight muscles and got up from her desk. She walked down the hallway to Justin’s office and poked her head in. “Do you need anything else today?”

  He looked up from the papers on his desk. “What? Oh, no, I don’t think so,” he said with a smile. “You have a good weekend, and thanks for a great job this week. It wouldn’t have gone nearly as smooth without you.”

  She smiled. Her bosses were never shy about expressing their gratitude for the smallest thing, from making a pot of coffee, to reloading the staplers, or to preparing a detailed proposal. They gave praise freely and often, but she wasn’t stupid. All of that would change if Justin or Steve discovered she’d been intimate with their brother, which was why she needed to shake off this strange feeling of emptiness Greg’s absence had caused the last few days.

  She headed toward her desk, her thoughts focused on the looming weekend. With luck, she might be able to finish the work in her living room and then move on to the kitchen, the next room on her “things to conquer” list, and the most expensive.

  Leaning down to grab her purse from the desk drawer, she heard the front door open, and before she remembered she didn’t care if she saw Greg today or not, she looked up, and there he was.

  Her heart did a little pit-pat. Swallowing, she forced her features into a nonchalant pose. “You’re back,” she said, in case he didn’t realize where he was.

  Greg didn’t say a word as he walked toward her. Her feet were rooted to the ground as she watched him advance, an enigmatic expression on his face, his movements slow and deliberate. When he stood right in front of her, he cupped her face in both of his hands. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted an instant before he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. And then just as suddenly, when her legs were about to buckle, he raised his head and smiled into her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

  Ginger blinked. Greg called out to Justin as he headed toward his brother’s office, but his voice seemed to come from a great distance. She blinked again. “Oh, my,” she whispered, raising a trembling hand to her mouth. She stood still for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Then she cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, and placed one foot in front of the other in a valiant effort to make her way to the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was two hours before Greg came to her house, and her nerves were stretched to the limit. She had known he would come over; she just didn’t think it would’ve taken him so long. She’d finally put the kiss earlier today in perspective, and she was determined to find out from Greg just who he thought he was. He couldn’t just kiss her anytime and anywhere he pleased.

  And she was going to make sure he understood that.

  She hadn’t taken more than two steps when Jack, bouncing against her legs in a hurry to beat her to the door, slammed into the almost full container of gas she’d left in the living room—the one she’d just taken the top off to clean a paint brush. Gasoline should only be used outside in a well-ventilated area. Her living room definitely didn’t qualify as outside in a well-ventilated area.

  She’d been careless, but she’d only had the one brush to clean, and her living room wasn’t exactly what she would call livable right now. She had disregarded common sense and made a very foolish decision.

  As the noxious odor filled the air, she rushed into the laundry room for old towels to throw over the spilled gas, which had now soaked into the old, ratty carpet. The doorbell rang at the same time her nose started to run and her eyes began to water.

  Cupping her nose and mouth with one hand, she grabbed Jack’s leash, opened the front door, and almost barreled into Greg who stood with a six-pack of beer, a tub of chocolate ice cream, and a bag of food from a hamburger joint.

  He stepped back quickly and looked at her as if she were crazy. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Is that gasoline?”

  Ginger took a deep breath of fresh air. “It’s all your fault!” she snapped, reaching down to calm Jack who was desperately trying to see inside the bag of food.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “It’s your fault for kissing me like that at the office!”

  His eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry. That was just a hello kiss. I missed you. I’ve never had a woman stink up her house just because I kissed her, though.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose!”

  “Ginger, you’re not making any sense. Now calm down and tell me what happened.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Because of the way you kissed me earlier today, I was…flustered. I made a stupid mistake. I was cleaning a brush I used in oil-based paint, and Jack accidentally turned over a can of gasoline in my living room. Now it stinks to high heavens!”

  “Gasoline? Are you nuts?”

  Probably, but she wasn’t going to admit that to him.

  “I was out of mineral spirits, and I didn’t want to ruin my brush. Gasoline works just as well. My father used to use it all the time to clean his brushes,” she said defiantly.

  “I have, too. But I don’t think I’ve ever used gas inside a house!”

  “And that’s probably a good thing. Look what can happen.”

  He started to grin, but it disappeared quickly when he looked in her eyes. “Uh, that’s not just a simple mistake, you know. Those fumes can be dangerous. How long ago did it happen?”

  “Just a minute ago, and of course I know it can be dangerous. Why do you think I’m outside now?”

  “Because you couldn’t wait to see me?” he ventured, taking another step back.

  “If I didn’t have the beginning of a painful headache, I’d slug you right now.”

  He chuckled and walked over to place the food and beer on the small table in the corner of the front porch. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” And then he told Jack to stay put and stepped inside the house.

  She sighed and sat down at the table. Her head really was starting to hurt, and she was suddenly very tired and hungry. Berating herself for being so stupid wasn’t going to help matters, but of all the people to witness such an embarras
sing blunder, it had to be Greg. She reached into the paper bag. It was still his fault, she reasoned as she opened the wrapper and took a bite of the hamburger.

  He came back outside. “Whew, it’s pretty strong in there. I put the towels in a trash bag out by the garbage can and opened all the windows. We’ll have to cut out the carpet, too, but I don’t think the noxious smell is going to clear out tonight. You need to gather whatever you think you’ll need and come back to my house with me.”

  She swallowed and looked at him. “No way in hell.”

  “Be reasonable.” He pulled out the other hamburger. “You can’t sleep inside this house tonight, and you know it. Jack could get sick even if you don’t.”

  “I’m not going to your house,” she replied firmly. “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not even an option. If I have to, I’ll spend the night in a motel.”

  He leaned back in his chair and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he nodded and pointed a french fry at her. “Do you have any camping gear?”

  “Let me guess. You were a Boy Scout.”

  “The best. Not to brag or anything, but I imagine my name is still up on some plaque in the Boy Scout Hall of Fame.”

  She popped the fry in her mouth. “There’s no such thing.”

  “Well, if there were, my name would be up there. So do you, or do you not, have camping gear?”

  “Some,” she replied. “Why?”

  “The Boy Scout motto is to always be helpful. In that spirit, I’m not leaving you alone with this disaster. Now finish eating, woman. We’ve got work to do, and it’s getting late.”

  She dipped a french fry in ketchup. “Greg, as much as I would dearly love to blame this accident on you, it wouldn’t be fair. This is my fault, and I’m more than capable of handling the cleanup. I really do appreciate your willingness to jump in and help, but it’s not necessary.”

  “I agree you are more than capable. I’m not offering to help because I think you are some helpless female who can’t plug in a vacuum cleaner by herself. I know you can do that because I’ve seen you do it with my own eyes.” With a laugh he dodged the fry she flipped at him. “Seriously, I want to help. Just think what a fantastic story this will be for my great-grandchildren when I’m sitting in my rocker reminiscing about what an amazing guy I was.”