Chapter 4
West
Day two of the Holiday project was nearing an end, and I had yet to see Presley.
Which was just fine with me.
The guys and I had made good progress on the demo and hoped to finish gutting the main floor tomorrow.
Though ripping out cabinets, yanking up flooring, and pulling down drywall was damn hard work, this job, at least today, nearly felt like cheating in the battle with Nick, my competitor for the foreman position.
Presley had cranked up the AC considerably yesterday when she’d noticed my guys sweating, so the temp was close to thirty degrees cooler than the other crew’s outdoor project in the Tennessee sun.
Nick was also dealing with a disruptive homeowner on their jobsite.
Mr. Castille, a retired teacher, was apparently questioning everything they did and how they did it.
Nick had to take time out to explain every step, which had to be exhausting and would likely put the project behind schedule soon, if it hadn’t already.
The job went more smoothly when the homeowner didn’t interfere or, like Presley, didn’t even bother to be home.
I hauled an old cabinet from the laundry room out to the truck for donation, as the cabinetry was still in usable condition. As I had every single time I’d come out here today, I glanced around for a sign of Presley.
I was jonesing for a glimpse of her. Just a glimpse. A guy couldn’t get in trouble from a glimpse.
Back inside, we were pulling out the last of the old cabinets from the laundry room when my phone rang. The babysitter’s name flashed on my screen, spiking my heart rate, as Allison didn’t call unless there was a problem.
I hurried away from the racket and exited to the back patio so I could hear, then answered.
“What’s up, Allison?”
“Hi, West. Sorry to bother you at work, but the girls’ mom hasn’t picked them up yet. I was wondering if you’d heard from her?”
I checked my watch. It was 3:32. She was thirty-two minutes late for her daughters. Dammit.
“I haven’t heard from her,” I growled, trying to keep my anger to myself. “How are the girls doing?”
“I’ve been distracting them with riddles, but Scarlet noticed the time a few minutes ago and told the others. Sienna and Nova are in tears, feeding off each other. Scarlet is marching around the house ranting.”
Sounded about right. If I wasn’t so pissed at my ex, I’d be amused by my oldest—by minutes—daughter.
I checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a call or text. “No messages on this end,” I said.
Holding in a curse or twelve, I mentally spun through my options. First priority was my girls. I’d have words with Flora later.
I couldn’t leave the jobsite, not for this. There were emergencies that would warrant that, but this wasn’t one of them. This was a matter of soothing my little girls.
“Put Sienna on the phone,” I told Allison.
On the other end, I heard commotion, then Scarlet’s voice in the distance, which sounded excited instead of mad, then Allie’s muffled response.
Allie came back on. “She just got here. I’ll go help them load up. Anything I need to tell their mom?”
“I’ll handle her later,” I muttered. “Thanks, Allie.”
I disconnected and finally let out the blue streak I’d been holding in.
That woman… It was one thing to jack with my emotions—and she’d done that plenty back in the day—but it was an altogether different matter when you messed with my girls’.
As I stared out at the lake, I talked myself down from the ex-induced rage and frustration.
As badly as I wanted to call Flora and lay into her right now, I knew the girls were with her.
They’d hear everything, and I didn’t want that.
I hoped they’d somehow have a fun dinner with their mom and her boyfriend.
The lake was relatively peaceful at the moment.
A pair of ducks floated to the right of Presley’s dock, their eyes peeled for fish.
Though the day was a scorcher, I stood under the pergola roof in the shade, and a light breeze blew over me.
The guys’ racket was barely audible out here.
I could see how this view and the peace could convince someone to buy the property in spite of all the work it needed.
When I turned to go back inside, I noticed a reusable water bottle with flowers on it and words in a script font that Presley must have left on the outdoor dining table. I stepped closer to read what the bottle said. Drink your effing water.
That drew the beginnings of a grin from me.
Then I noticed some kind of silky, gauzy robe thing draped over one of the chairs. It was cream-colored with a pink floral print. Feminine, delicate, sexy. I swallowed hard, trying not to imagine the client wearing the sheer wrap.
Looking away, I was struck by the contrast between the coarse, sassy water bottle saying and the sweet, flowery wrap. It intrigued me further. Was Presley sassy or sweet? Would she like dirty talk or sweet nothings in bed?
I groaned and shook my head at my dumbass self. That line of thinking was nothing but trouble.
When I went back into the house, it was quiet. I headed to the laundry room to find it empty of cabinets and men, but their tools were still there.
The door from the garage opened, and the guys returned.
“We got those all loaded up,” Paul said. “What’s next?”
“That’s all we’re gonna tackle here today,” I said. “You guys take those out to Sorensen’s and unload them. I’ll clean up here.”
“You going to hang around and wait for the homeowner?” Paul asked.
I shook my head. I needed to consult with Presley about her flooring choice, but I couldn’t do that until she saw fit to check in with us. I didn’t know when she’d be home.
“I can wait for her,” Nathan said, grinning like the clueless twenty-two-year-old he was. “She’s hot.”
“Shut it,” I snapped.
“Just stating a fact.”
I advanced on him. “That’s not appropriate. If you can’t figure that out, you know where the door is.”
“Dude, okay.” His grin disappeared. He raised his hands in surrender, then bent to pick up his tools.
I turned away, scowling, trying to ignore that I was more worked up than the situation called for. It wasn’t appropriate to say something like that ever, but the urge to shove the new guy as I’d advanced on him… That was just as out of line.
To Paul, I said, “Let me know if you have any problems delivering. Otherwise see you tomorrow.”
“Later,” Paul said, picking up his tool belt and taking out the truck keys. They went out through the garage and left me to tidy up.
Once I was done shop vaccing all the dust and debris from our day, I made sure our equipment was out of the way, then went to the patio door to lock it.
As I secured the lock, my eyes strayed to the left and landed on that sheer, feminine robe again. What had she been wearing underneath it when she’d taken it off? Pajamas? A swimsuit? Had anyone been around to see?
The door to the garage opened, and I jolted guiltily, wondering what the guys had forgotten.
When I turned around, my heart double-timed, because it wasn’t the guys.
“Wow,” Presley said, taking in the open space that used to be the closed-off kitchen.
There was my glimpse, and damn was it a nice one.
She wore a little white skirt with two buttons at the waist that I couldn’t help imagining my large fingers undoing, a corset-style top in lime green that revealed a two-inch swath of tempting skin at her waist, and heels with a dainty strap across the front of each foot and another around her ankle.
I was sure she intended her outfit to be simple and summery, but the complications that image of her was going to cause in my head…
I stepped forward, unsure if she’d spotted me yet.
“Hey, Presley.” Whereas yesterday I’d struggled to break the ma’am habit, today, after a night filled with wild, erotic appearances by her in my restless dreams, her first name rolled off my tongue too easily.
“West. You’ve been busy.”
“The guys just left,” I said, snapping myself out of fuck-she-is-hot mode and into business mode. “I was locking up.”
She walked to the center of the much larger open space and spun slowly, taking in the changes, stopping when she faced the wall of windows that looked out on the lake. She smiled and nodded. “Yes,” she drew out. “This is what I was hoping for.”
My gaze got caught up on the bit of her middle that showed. I imagined gripping her slender waist and pulling her on my lap—
Jesus.
I turned to look at the view, yanking my thoughts out of the gutter.
“What’s next?” she asked.
I cleared my throat, as I’d planned to fill her in whenever I saw her. I hadn’t planned on my thoughts going spicy.
Turning my attention to the house, I pointed out the remaining demo we’d take on tomorrow, which would center on the bathrooms.
“There’s been another delay with the flooring you chose for the living area and bedroom,” I told her. “We can still get it, but it’s going to slow everything down by at least two weeks. Do you want to wait, or would you like to pick something similar?”
“Waiting isn’t my strong point. I’ll choose something else.”
I quietly exhaled my relief. We could deal with the floor delay if we had to, but going with a different product would make our lives easier and the project smoother.
“Levi brought samples by,” I told her as I walked over to the sample boards propped against the wall.
Presley followed me, stopping next to me and watching as I spread out the four panels of samples. “Do you need my answer right now?”
“Just in the next couple of days. Check them out when it’s dark outside and in the middle of the day so you can see how they look in different light.”
“I’ll do that.” She seemed distracted as she nodded. “I have a question for you.” She turned to face me, pegged me with eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless summer day.