2. Jackson
2
JACKSON
“ A n entire Christmas carnival in a month? How big of an event are we talking about?”
Her shoulders square, and the gleam of the kitchen lights highlights the red of her hair. I love the way she purses her plump lips when I mess with her.
I should not be thinking about her mouth.
“As big as you can make it in that time frame and within budget. So, that’s really up to you.”
She takes another long sip of her latte, watching me over the rim. Her eyes are a bright robin’s egg blue. They are the perfect color for a red-head.
“Challenge accepted.” Her posture straightens even more. She’s been prim and proper so far, but an entirely different beast hides behind that facade. I can see it peeking out at me. “Have you run one before, or is your business jumping into this for the first time?”
“It’s one hundred percent a new idea. I want it to be a new way to give back to the children’s hospital. We want the event to be hosted on the property for the kids to enjoy and so the news to have some good PR shots. Good PR means donations for the hospital.”
“And good PR for you as well.” Ginger almost sounds like she’s accusing me of something, but I suppose that she’s testing me the same way I’m testing her. I might have given Bennett a heads-up that I could use some help with the event, knowing his daughter was graduating and would be free. And I had no reservations abouthiring her based on her resume alone.
I am happily unprepared for this interaction, though. I like the way she talks to me, the spark of intelligence in her eyes, andthe way she’s already thinking through the details of the event.
“Good for our taxes, too, but that’s not why we’re doing it. We can afford it, so we’re giving back.” I point at her to accentuate the point. One of Emily’s friends from school had spent a few years in that hospital. We used to go there all the time to visit. I’d help the kids with their math homework. I want to help out if I can.
Ginger shifts, her head tilting to the side, mouth pursing again. Despite her no-nonsense work attitude, she’s still displaying warmth when she talks to me.
I pat the counter between us. “Finish your coffee, then I’ll give you a tour.”
“Do you mind if I call my dad?”
It’s a reminder of who she is. It knocks the wind out of me, but I nod and leave her to it, returning to my office to gather my wits. I worry about my propensity for flirting in this office—mostly with female clients and my assistant Brenda, who’s also my aunt’s best friend.
When it comes to the customer service girls,flirting can get dangerous pretty fast.
Like playing games with Ginger might.
The trouble is, I’m not exactly sure I can help myself with her.
Case in point, I’m leaning against the doorjamb to my office and listening to her side of the phone call.
“Are you sure you didn’t know? I spent two days preparing for this instead of spending time with Gracie. Yes, she did help, but I’m sure she wasn’t having fun. But I’m her mother, I’m supposed to help her with her homework. Yes, Dad, I did…I will. I love you, too.”
I count to five before I retrieve my mostly empty mug and return to the kitchen. After I wash it, I hold my hand out for hers. “Done?”
She nods and hands it over. When it’s clean and laid out to dry, I turn to escort Ginger over to the two active sites—both of which are just now starting to fill up with workers ready to start their day. By the time we return, the office will be full and work will be well under way.
But first, I hold my arm out to Ginger, who’s holding her portfolio to her chest. She reaches up to slip her purse over her shoulder. “You can leave those in my office, and I’ll take you down to meet the crew. We’re a pretty close bunch, and we all work together to make this happen.”
“It will be good for me to meet everyone,” she finishes my thought for me, setting her things on a chair by my desk.
“Exactly.” I close the front door behind us and take her elbow as we go down the steps. Man, I cannot help myself with her.
Ginger leads me down the driveway, heading toward the construction without hesitation. That pencil skirt hugs her curves nicely. And she’s so small, even in those heels.
All of that presence she embodies belies her young age, and damn it, she intrigues me.
She throws a glance at me over her shoulder, catching me looking at her ass and legs. I toss her a wink. What else am I supposed to do?
I catch up to her easily as we make it to the mostly finished site, where Sawyer, my brother and foreman, and Ashley, our engineer, are standing out front. My hand finds the small of her back as I steer her toward them.
Ginger is already smiling at the crew as they notice her, waving. When we reach my business partners, she draws herself up firm and straight. Her smile grows.
She recognizes them, that’s for sure, but she waits for the proper introductions.
I wave to them both in turn. “Ginger, this is Sawyer and Ashley. They’re in charge of the construction side of things.”
“Ashley?” That mouth purse of hers again.
“Ashley.” He flashes her a grin, one that means trouble, but Ashley is always trouble.
She makes that ah face and her expression settles into that almost brooding flirtation Ginger’s been exuding since she recognized me. “So, you’ve got two sites going at the same time. Is that normal?”
“Yes,” Sawyer says. Short, simple, to-the-point, my brother at his finest.
Ginger laughs, like she’s thought the same thing. “Does that mean you have two crews? One that builds the structure and one that finishes the inside? Or is it one crew per house?”
“A little bit of both.” Ashley gestures to the mostly finished house. “Why don’t we show you?”
“Before we move inside, I have a few more questions.” She turns toward the bones of the house across the street. “What day is that project on?”
“Day twenty-nine.” Sawyer watches Ginger like he’s never seen a woman before.
I kind of get it. This spitfire has a gravitational pull that’s hard to miss. And she’s so free with her smiles, sending yet another one back at my brother. I swear it stuns him. I stifle my laugh.
The arriving crew members stop to say their hellos, half of them introducing themselves to Ginger. She shakes hands and asks easy questions. Not only is she going to do a good job, but she’s going to have all of the support she needs from the team.
Twice, Ashley makes some comment that has her slapping her hand against his chest, and jealousy twists within me in response.
This is not appropriate. Still, small tendrils of jealousy work themselves through my veins. The desire to sidle up beside her and protect her with my presence has me taking a step forward, but I shake it off.
Ginger handles the attention just fine.
“Let’s show you inside before it gets too busy in there,” I suggest, reminding everyone that work should be beginning.
I’m shot an innocent look by more than one person, but the best rendition is Ginger’s.
“Sounds good. We all know I have sooo many questions.” Her hands shoot out to Sawyer this time, wrapping around his bicep and tugging him forward.
He easily gives her his elbow to hang off of, like it’s instinct, and lets himself be led away by her. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same. I take in the nice view of her backside again before meeting Ashely’s gaze.
It’s dark and reflecting the same thoughts I’ve been battling since she walked into my office. Fuck, this one’s going to mean trouble.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I glance back at the model home I work out of. No one is waiting there, although Brenda is in. Bennett scrolls across my screen, and I thumb open the call, nodding at the three of them to go on.
“Well, if it’s not daddy dearest.”
Ginger glances back, a knowing look in her eyes before she turns back toward the house, stumbling and gripping Sawyer’s arm harder. Her smile blazes up at him. I can feel the heat of it from here.
“Jack. I’m glad to hear you’ve taken on my daughter.” His soft pause isn’t an invitation to respond, but more to be sure I’m listening. “My girl’s been through a lot, so you’d better keep an eye on her. Especially with all the men you have roving around at your sites.”
His warning is a little late. I can already see I’ll have to watch out for her and watch out for my crew, too.
“Are you listening to me, Jackson?”
“I hear you, boss. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Good. Because she doesn’t need to be thrown to the wolves. Not again.”
The sudden sinking feeling tugging under my ribs has my gaze straying back to her legs and the sway of her hips. “What do you mean, ‘not again’?”