My eyes moved on and I have no idea how the man on the right reacted to us because, as my eyes moved from cocky guy, they caught on angry-cellphone-guy in the middle of the group and chose to stay there for a nice long rest. Thank you very much, said my lady bits.
This guy was tall, he was built, he had a square jaw that could cut you, and despite the sunglasses that hid his eyes and the scowl that said, “don’t even think about talking to me,” he had my belly dropping to the ground in an instant. His almost black hair was in need of a cut and it looked like he’d been running his hand through it for a week. There was just the right amount of stubble covering his perfect jaw—enough so he looked sexy and a bit rough but not sloppy. My knees felt a little wobbly.
Paging Superman, I think I found your long lost, scruffier, sexier, and broodier twin. It was at this point I patted myself on the back for not wearing high heels because if I had, I would surely be kissing the dirt right about now.
Charlotte, seemingly right at home in the presence of hot superheroes, kept right on going without pause. “Hello there. My name is Charlotte Baker. I live just up the street.” She was already upon them and I scurried a bit to catch up. Charlotte looked back toward me. “This is another neighbor, Laney Mon—”
“Laney!” I interrupted loudly and thrust my hand out toward cocky guy. “Just Laney is fine.” I avoided Charlotte’s quizzical look. No last names needed here, guys—let’s keep it casual.
“Well, Laney,” I got the smile and nod as cocky guy shook my hand. “Charlotte.” He switched to hers, handsome smile ready to charm our panties off. “I’m Mark. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. This here is Doug.” Mark indicated the man on the right whom I hadn’t had a chance yet to assess. Doug appeared to be in his late forties with blondish hair and the beginnings of a paunch. Face unreadable, he nodded in greeting but didn’t offer his hand. “And this is Nate. He runs the show around here.” Mark turned his thumb toward the man giving me high blood pressure. Nate, face completely readable, turned his scowl on Mark, not pleased to be thrown under the bus. Unfazed, Mark continued, “What can we help you ladies with today?”
“Well,” Charlotte began, her charming smile returning his, “I’m assumin’ you’re the company puttin’ up the new property?” When that got no response she continued, “Yes, well, we have some questions we wanted to ask if that’s all right.”
Mark, still the only one of the three to speak, moved closer (See? I told you) and said, “Sure. Happy to help.” At this point I think it was safe to assume he was envisioning Charlotte naked.
“We’ve been tryin’ to find out exactly what kind of business is goin’ to be movin’ into the new property. Can you tell us that by any chance?”
“Well, Charlotte,” Mark began, “we won’t really know that until the property is completed and the spaces are rented out, but I can tell you that there will be a total of three rental spaces. There are a variety of businesses that could make use of the spaces, but until rental agreements are signed, I’m afraid I can’t be more specific than that. Wouldn’t you say, Nate?” he passed the issue off, his eyes still glued to my neighbor.
“Yes Mark, I would say,” the hottie ground out in displeasure, his voice low and a bit gravelly, perfectly matching the whole sexy, scruffy thing he had going on there. “Let’s cut to the chase, girls, what is it precisely that you’re concerned about?” His eyes moved to us, his impatience unmistakable. Somebody had a crap sandwich for breakfast this morning.
“Um,” Charlotte was beginning to hesitate, “you see, we all have kids and we don’t want to see any … unsavory types comin’ around the neighborhood. And, um, increased traffic might be an issue too …”
“I see,” Nate snapped. “So you don’t want us bringing creepy assholes around your kids, and the tenants should stay off your street. Got it. Can we get back to work now? We’ve got a crew showing up in twenty and a long list of shit to get done. You can head back to your little mommy-and-me troop.” He tilted his chin toward Darcy, Glen, and the kids. “We’ll take it from here.”
With that, he turned around and headed toward the cab of the truck. And, dammit to hell, I couldn’t help but take in the view from the back with a little bit of “bow-chicka-wow-wow” echoing in my head. Thoroughly disgusted with my girl parts for turning to the dark side, I returned my gaze to Charlotte.
Her jaw hung open and she looked like she might cry. A surge of protectiveness washed over me and (mostly) overruled my baser feelings. She was a nice person—she didn’t deserve to be yelled at by that, that big fat sexy jerk! She was friendly and cared about her kid and invited strangers like us to her house for playdates and just wanted to keep everybody safe! Sure, her son may or may not be a future serial killer, but everyone has flaws. What right did this guy have to berate her for asking a simple question? No way, you rude, arrogant, insulting, too tight t-shirt wearing dickhead—Laney Monroe has a bone to pick with you.
“Hey!” I yelled out to his retreating, sexy-as-hell back. “Nate, or whatever the hell your name is! You get back here and apologize to her. That was totally uncalled for!” My fists found purchase on my hips and I prepared for a fight.
“I’m sorry,” Mark, looking not so cocky anymore, tried to interject, but the bell had rung on his bout. It was time for the heavyweight round. I shot him a look that silenced him, so I knew my message had been received.
Nate was back. “Lady, I don’t have time for this. Doug has already told your friend by phone to contact the zoning board if you all have a problem. They permitted us to put this building here and as long as we follow all the rules set out by them, the city, and the inspector—which we will—this is not my problem!” He brought his face closer and ripped off his sunglasses, revealing brilliant blue eyes that were frosted over with disdain. “Look, it will probably end up being a nice little salon so you and all your friends can sit and get your nails done and have a little gossip session where you can talk shit about me all you want. I don’t care. Now, if it’s all right with you, I think I’ll get back to work.”
“What in the hell is going on here?!” came a loud and very, very familiar voice from behind me.
Well, shit.
I looked over my shoulder to find Gavin looking completely perplexed and Rocco riding on his shoulders, both hands grasping Gavin’s ears like handles. But even the sight of my two guys couldn’t stop the raging storm brewing in response to this absolute prick in front of me. It was on.
Chapter Seven
Getting Creative
NATE
“I got this, Gav!” the ball of indignant fury in front of me called over her shoulder to—wait, wasn’t that the new kid? What was going on here?
Why did I even bother getting out of bed this morning?
I should have known the day would be crap-tastic from the moment I woke up.
I’d accidentally left my phone, which doubles as my alarm clock, in the kitchen last night so I missed my alarm and, by default, my morning run. I need my morning run to clear my head and make a game plan for my day. I think better, feel better, and probably behave better if I get to run first thing.
And not only did I miss my alarm, I also missed half a dozen phone calls from work. The freaking siding we were supposed to install at the apartment project today had arrived late yesterday and nobody noticed until early this morning that it was the wrong kind. Mark called first thing with that one. It was unclear if the error came from the manufacturer or from our end, which would make it even more complicated. But either way it left us with half a crew spending the day with their thumbs up their asses while we fell behind schedule and bled money. Not ideal.
I made a few more calls and we were able to shuffle some things around, but we were still going to be running behind until we got the right siding—and who the hell knew when that would be?
And behind all of that was the nagging fear that somebody would slip up and tell my father about it, which would bring on a whole new shitstorm coming from both him and my mom. Good Christ, I felt like chucking it all and catching the first flight back to Texas. This day was like screwing a skunk—it had hardly even started and I’d already had enough.
Mark, Doug, and I decided to touch base in person at the Old Oak Ridge site where Doug and I were planning on starting our day anyway. So, without time for coffee, breakfast, or my run, I’d taken the fastest shower known to man and headed over there. Suffice it to say, I was not in a receptive mood for any more bullshit when I’d arrived.
Enter the amateur pageant queen and her friend. Her smoking, fuck-hot friend with glossy dark hair halfway down to her ass and intense gray eyes that lit my dick on fire. Not to mention the rest of the package. To say I’m a tits-and-ass kind of guy is like saying the Cookie Monster has a vague fondness for sweets. And, goddamn, did this girl have some T and A. She had a little bit of that Christina Hendricks thing from Mad Men going on. And she was serving up the attitude to go with it. Maybe Texas was a bad idea after all.
I knew I was being a total dick, and I’m sure my hot little friend and her red-headed neighbor didn’t deserve it, but I couldn’t help myself. The crew was almost there and I had just gotten off the phone with the siding company—they were estimating another two weeks before they could get the right order in. That was a shit-ton of money and time, and I didn’t have the patience to deal with these neighborhood people who were wasting my time with shit that wasn’t even going to be an issue for months, if ever. So I released the asshole on them.
Sue me and then get me a coffee.
But it looked like this girl was just getting started, and now I was finding out she was somehow involved with one of my crew? What the fuck was going on with this day?
Her eyes blazed into mine as she drew in a deep breath in preparation for whatever was about to come. It was impossible to ignore the rise of her perfect breasts, and I caught just a glimpse of black lace at the vee of her red shirt from my elevated vantage point. It almost made me want to be cooperative. Almost.