3. Ginger
3
GINGER
J ust my luck, the two other bosses at Hayes Homes are also Dad’s friends. But honestly, it feels like most people around here are friends with Dad. I can read the types based on the rotation of workers at the business.
Ashley is the prankster, and the glint in his eyes tells me that he’s going to let me cause a little bit of trouble around here. It’s always been one of my favorite things to do. Some good-natured mischief is always fun.
Sawyer is a less common type. Strong. Silent. They’re fewer and farther between than you might think. My flirty smiles disarm him in a terrible way. It’s written all over his face.
I press my fingers into his arm when he gives me a monosyllabic answer to one of my many questions. He doesn’t react, but he does watch me as I do it.
I turn my smile on the next guy to cometo introduce himself with a handshake and a “you must be new.” Of course, I am.
Ashley leans in with a smirk. “I say we give you a hammer and let you at it. I think you’d enjoy the job.”
He has no idea how tempting that is. I shake my head as he puts his hands in his pockets. I think he anticipated my reply. It might have even been his intention to get me to say no.
“Careful what you offer me, Ashley. I’m sure a hammer would turn me awful wild. Dangerous.” I let a bit of my momma bear seep into my features. I can be scary when I want to be. I need to be for my daughter.
It only seems to spur him on.
“I have a whole belt of tools I’d love to see you wield. Nothing better than a woman who knows her way around a tool.”
My hand slaps against his arm, lingering for an extra second as I feel him flex under my touch. I enjoy the flash of want in his eyes. How hard is he tugging on his own reins today?
“Maybe I can get an honorary tool belt. I do prefer to be hands-on when I’m given a project.” I plant both palms on my hips where my skirt tapers tightly across my curves. The top is cinching the smallest part of my waist, and I know it looks really good.
A power outfit and a power pose that says, “fall to your knees at my feet”.
Ashley looks about ready to, and my confidence soars.
The heat pulsing low in my belly increases as he licks his bottom lip. Is he picturing the same thing I am? Him on his knees, pushing the fabric up my legs to expose me and burying his face between my thighs?
The thought lingers for a few seconds, long enough that I’m damp from arousal. My nipples pinch tight against the thick fabric of my bra, one I wore strictly to hide that sort of thing. But the pause only seems to tattle to Ashley about the reaction he is causing in me.
I shift my weight to one heel, which I know makes my ass look fabulous, and shoot a glance at the silent giant beside me.
He’s frowning at the show. I don’t blame him. I’m a bit much to swallow on thefirst go, but I go down easier the second time.
Another crew member approaches our small group. I’m surrounded by men. Not that I’m complaining. My natural flirtatiousness works well with the opposite sex. Not so much with other women.
I drop my stance and offer my hand to the newcomer. So far, I’ve met two Nicks, a Seth, a Jacob, a Kenny, a Daniel, and a Mike. This one’s name is Adam, and I give him my patent nice-to-meet-you smile.
None of the men flirt outright with me. At least, not with all three bosses hovering around me. I’m sure they’ll all open up to me as we become acquainted.
Besides, I’m the resident momma in every group I enter. I always bringing treats to stay on everyone’s best side. Because, let’s face it, my type-A personality can grate on people otherwise. It’s why I’ve worked so hard over the years to be personable.
Which usually comes off as flirty. I work with what I’ve got.
The reactions I gain from the construction crew are nothing compared to Jackson’s, Sawyer’s, and Ashley’s. It’s almost like they’ve cast some protective bubble around me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re each staking their claim. That’s impossible, though.
Even with the lowkey sexual charge I’m feeling, none of them will make any real advances. Not that you’d hear me complaining if they did.
This is simply the first day. It’s the day when you don’t fuck with the new hire and scare her off. Especially since I’m the only woman I’ve seen around here. I’m sure the others are in the office somewhere.
Jackson offers me a tour inside before the real work begins. He’s right. I don’t want to be in the way. I shoot him an innocent look before I take Sawyer’s arm. He stiffens but offers me more stability with his elbow.
It’s hard not to grope this man. His bicep is big and firm. I bet all of him is. When his dark brows furrow as he peers down at me, he’s almost too beautiful to look at. He has stormy eyes and a natural darkness about him.
“Show me what you’re working on. I want to know everything about this job and how it all works.” I send a wink to Ashley. Can’t leave him out, now can I?
That man takes the attention like it’s a prize. I’ll have to be careful with him, or I’ll get carried away far too quickly.
That might not be such a bad thing in different circumstances, but this kind of brazen flirtation is so entirely inappropriate that it’s quickly becoming my favorite sin.
When I hear Jackson answer his phone and I realize that it’s my father, I stumble a little, peering back at him with a bit of worry. Why is my dad calling him?
Jackson meets my gaze, but I find no answers there as Sawyer helps me straighten up and draws my attention back to him.
I let the questions in my mind fall away and smile. How hard would it be to get this giant, stoic man to blush, to offer me one of his own grins, even if its just a small one? I settle for the current glimmer of interest in his dark eyes.
None of the workers at the company have sent me a second glance, much less a first one. The seem to be too afraid of the great Bennett Thatcher, my father, who was raised in the business and in the school of hard knocks.
Maybe that’s why I can’t help myself with these three. They all look at me like a woman instead of simply Bennett’s daughter.
Ashley follows behind me, not close enough for me to feel his presence, but I do feel his gaze on my backside as I saunter into the half-finished house. Tools and materials are stacked inside as neatly as possible, given the current stage of construction.
Hardwood floors are being installed in the living room. Tile has been put down in the kitchen. I lean that way, so Sawyer steers me into the space.
“The kitchen is my favorite room in any house. It’s the heart. You know?” I squeeze Sawyer’s bicep again.
“I agree.”
I feign shock at his curt answer, even though I can tell he doesn’t mean to come off brusque. “You spend a lot of your time in the kitchen? I bet your wife loves that.”
That furrow returns to his brow. “Not married.”
Why does that send goosebumps over my flesh? I check his hand, a bit obviously, to see if I can catch him in a lie. Yet, there is no ring on his left hand. But those big hands of his are oh so tempting. I bet they’re rough and calloused from his work.
I bet he works with his hands in his spare time, too. Tactile. The quiet ones usually are.
God, what would his palms feel like as they slid over my skin? I want to find out.
Peering up into his stormy eyes again, I give him a smaller smile, one with a hint of teasing around the edges. “All right. Time for you to give me some answers that use more than a couple words. I’m trying to get to know everyone.”
I lean against his arm, noticing how he stiffens when I press my breasts against the bicep I’m still holding. Finally, I see what I’ve been aiming for: a slight tint of pink crawling up his neck.
“You can handle that. Can’t you?”