Blue Collar Hotties: A Callused Hands Collection

Cade

T here’s a mermaid on my deck.

Well, shit. I know twelve years of service have done a number on me; I know sometimes I can’t trust my senses. Hell, I even know the power of wishful thinking to conjure up visions in front of a man, like an oasis in the desert. On my hungriest nights on tour, I swear I could see a cheeseburger floating in front of my damn eyes. Could make out the flecks of individual sesame seeds on the bun; could taste the scent of juicy beef in the air.

But the last sight on earth I expected to greet me at my buddy’s old tumbledown cabin is a girl in a yellow string bikini. She’s stretched out and sunning herself, bold as brass. Lord knows she’s a beauty, but it’s been a long time since I was hungry for that .

“Uh.” She’s sleeping, her tanned stomach rising and falling with every soft breath, stretched out on a threadbare towel. With the suntan lotion oiling her skin, making her shins and thighs so shiny, I can forgive myself for that mermaid slip.

No tails here. No iridescent scales, either.

She’s an angel, then. Or a squatter.

“Miss.” A frown creases her pretty face, but she doesn’t stir. She shifts against the towel, getting comfy again, then drops back into her deep sleep, her steady breaths mingling with the breeze that shivers through the trees.

Looks like she needs it, too. There are dark shadows under her eyes, and somehow, even in the warm sunshine, this girl seems haunted. Pearly white teeth dig into her plump bottom lip, and two short, dark braids tickle her slender shoulders.

She looks so innocent. It’s a punch to my gut. When was the last time a sight made me ache like this? No clue. I take a minute to recover, peering out at the dappled water of the lake, and beyond that, the pine trees and mountain peaks.

Luis did okay landing this cabin, that’s for sure.

Finally settled, I clear my throat and speak again. “Miss. Wake up, please.”

At last, she stirs. That grumpy frown deepens, and she’s adorably confused as she blinks awake. Brown eyes widen on me, and fuck, I don’t expect it—the shock of arousal, coursing through my blood.

Suddenly, I’m newly aware of her bare skin. The tanned, glistening expanse of her; the nip of her waist, the flare of her hips. That plump, kissable mouth, parting in shock to find me standing over her like some bigfoot that lumbered out of the trees.

I haven’t felt hunger like this since… well, ever. Haven’t even felt alive since my best friend died.

I cough, irritation spiking. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to feel alive. I want to clear this girl off my deck, dig out Luis’s old fishing gear, then settle beside the lake until my pounding thoughts clear and I’m blissfully blank again.

“You’re trespassing.” Better cut to the chase. Don’t want this girl to think I’m standing over her like this, staring like I’m a doomed man and she’s my last meal, because I want something from her. The only thing I want is for her to go far, far away. “Go on and clear out, now. I’ll give you a few minutes to grab your things.”

The girl gapes up at me. Two patches of color spread over her cheeks, and then she lurches to her feet, dragging her ratty towel with her.

“Who the hell are you?” Her voice is scratchy. Like she doesn’t use it much. I raise an eyebrow as she wraps the towel firmly around her body, hiding all that tanned skin away.

Just as well. I need to think straight, too.

“ Armstrong.” I nod at the nearby wreck. “This is my cabin, and like I said. You’re trespassing.”

She frowns, her confusion obvious. Either that, or this squatter is the world’s best actress.

“ Your cabin?”

“Uh-huh.” I glance at it again, swallowing down my embarrassment at the grubby windows and cracked wooden boards. Fuck, but Luis left it in a state. No wonder he kept saying he’d leave it to me with that shit-eating grin, like he was having such a great joke with himself. Now I know why: that joker has left me the ultimate fixer-upper. A final prank from beyond the grave.

“Luis…” I jolt at the name of my dead friend on her lips, staring at the girl with fresh eyes. She knew him? “He left it to you? I didn’t—didn’t remember seeing it in the will.”

Her shoulders slump, and now I feel like the biggest piece of shit who ever lived, because this is clearly no squatter. Was she his girlfriend? Did they live here together while he was on leave?

Luis never mentioned a lover, but a stab of irrational jealousy lances through me all the same. He had a girl like this, and he never said a word? Fuck me.

If this angel was mine, the whole damn world would hear about it.

“I guess I just assumed…” She trails off, clutching the towel around herself like the fabric might hold her together. The poor thing looks so, so tired, and I wish I never woke her up. She’s small with all the air gone out of her, those slender shoulders curving in on herself. The breeze nudges at those tiny braids.

“I’m sorry,” the girl rasps, so much pain in those words that I stumble back a step. “I’ll clear out of your way.”

“Wait.”

I thought she was a squatter, or a figment of my troubled imagination. I definitely didn’t stomp up here to toss my best friend’s grieving lover off his deck. Jesus, I’m not a monster.

But she’s bending over to snatch up a loose white t-shirt, fumbling with her towel as she dresses quickly, avoiding my eyes, and those exhausted shadows on her face make me feel about three inches tall.

“Wait,” I say again. “Hang on a second. You knew Luis? You were his girl?”

There’s a loud snort, the unladylike sound taking me by surprise. “Ew,” the angel says flatly, dressed now in denim shorts and her t-shirt, the towel bunched in one hand as she slides on a pair of dusty flip flops. “No. I’m his sister, Riley.”

Present tense. Even though Luis has been gone for months now.

But then, you never stop being family, do you? Not when the love is real. That shit lasts forever.

I should know. Luis was my brother in all but name—we bled together, laughed and talked and cried. Had each other’s backs, and saved each other’s lives more than once. When the nights got hard and the demons closed in, I confessed the shadiest, most shameful parts of my soul to that man, and he never turned away from me. Not even for a second.

Then he left me this rotting lump of a cabin. Hey, nobody’s perfect.

“His sister?” Relief floods through me, and I feel bizarrely lighter. Can’t examine that. “Shit, I’m sorry. I never would have come if I’d known you were here.”

Riley waves a hand, but her face has closed. Shut up shop. It’s like the light has gone from her brown eyes as she says, “Hey, it’s your cabin. No hard feelings.”

She’s walking now, striding past me on the deck, and I snake out a hand. Grab her arm without thinking, keeping her next to me with a loose hold, because all I know is: she can’t leave yet. She can’t go, not like this. Hurt and rigid with grief.

“Wait—I’m not kicking you out. You can keep the cabin, Riley. I don’t even want it, okay?”

She scans my face, expression doubtful. There are flecks of gold in those brown eyes, and it reminds me of the honeycomb chocolate I used to obsess over back before I signed up, before I had to worry about pull ups and time trials. Damn, I could go for a bar of honeycomb chocolate right now.

“You don’t want your own lakehouse?”

My turn to snort. I nod at the wreck Luis left me. “No offense, but have you seen it?”

Her mouth twitches. She glances over, too, and we stare at it together. The sagging roof; the crack in one window pane. The rotted boards in one corner of the deck.

“He was messing with me,” I tell her quietly. “You know what he’s like.”

I can’t bring myself to talk about Luis in the past tense, either. Guess we’re both in denial. But his sister sucks in a shaky breath then blows it out in one go, and gives me a wobbly smile that shocks me down to the marrow of my bones.

I’m still touching her arm. Feeling her warm skin against my palm.

“He hates home maintenance.”

My laugh bounces across the lake, and her smile widens in response. She’s shy but pleased. “You’re telling me, angel. He talked me into fixing his truck a bunch of times, too.”

Riley rolls her eyes. “I bet he did. You know, after the first couple times, that’s on you.”

True enough. “Guess he had my number.”

“Guess so.”

I stand there for a while longer, my hand on her arm, stretching out this moment of unexpected peace for as long as it will last.

But I can’t linger here forever. It’s not my cabin, is it? We just settled that. So now I’m the trespasser.

I clear my throat. “I’d better head out while it’s still light. Sorry to have disturbed you, Riley.”

It’s a monumental effort to let go of her arm and step back, cool air washing in where her body heat warmed me a moment ago. There’s a dull ache in my chest, a headache squeezing at my temples, but it’s no use craving this girl’s company. She owes me nothing. Doesn’t matter if this is the most human I’ve felt in months.

“Make sure you lock up at night.” I can’t help frowning at the crumbling front door. “There are other folks in this area. Campgrounds, too. You never know.”

Lord knows that over the last twelve years, I’ve had a front row seat to some of the worst things humanity is capable of. It’s enough to sicken a man, and it’s definitely enough to stir a little paranoia.

“I’m going to leave you my number,” I clip out, gruff but suddenly determined. “You need anything, day or night, you give me a call. You hear? Doesn’t matter how far away I am—I’ll come.”

I mean it, too. My heart’s already thumping faster at the thought of Luis’s little sister in any trouble. Those braids, man. Those fucking braids.

Riley mumbles something under her breath, but she digs her phone out of her shorts pocket. She unlocks it and hands it over without a word.

And I’m surprised enough by that show of trust, but her next words practically kick the legs from under me, delivered in her scratchy voice as I tap at her screen.

“You, um. You could stay the night, if you like.” I glance up, staring at her, but she’s gazing out at the lake, a flush creeping over her cheeks. God, she’s pretty. So pretty she’s hard to look at, and Luis never warned me about that. “On the sofa, I mean.” She throws a wry smile at me, and my stomach flips. “You came all this way, right? The next town is miles away, and it’ll be dark soon. The roads here aren’t good at night. Stay.”

…Seriously?

“You don’t even know me.”

Why the fuck am I arguing? I want to stay near this girl more than anything, more than I ever craved those hallucinated cheeseburgers, even. But I don’t like the thought of her trusting a strange man she just met, making herself vulnerable like that.

“You knew my brother, though.” Riley’s smile turns sad, then fades away. “Luis trusted you, and he left you his cabin. The place we came to every summer together before he signed up. That must mean something.”

Must it?

So what did Luis want from me here?

To fix up his lakehouse? Look out for his little sister?

Both , I decide on the spot, a renewed sense of purpose filling my chest, and it feels like mercy. Like benediction, and like sweet relief. Because it seems like my best friend wanted both those things from me, and fuck, I’m happy to give them. Fixing up his tumbledown cabin for this angel? There’s nothing I’d rather do with all my empty time.

Even now, months after he’s gone, Luis is saving me. Shining a light into the darkness.

“One night,” I agree. I can find somewhere else close by to stay tomorrow, and I’ll pitch my offer to Riley then, too. My help with her cabin, in return for letting me look out for her. “I sure hope the sofa is in better shape than those windows.”

She makes that loud snorting sound again, and I grin. So goddamn cute.

“You see this wreck?” The breeze sways her braids against her shoulders. “Don’t get your hopes up, Armstrong.”