2 - Lane #3
I nodded, getting a glass for myself and taking a less than graceful gulp.
I gestured for him to talk. He leaned forward, hands gripping the barstool backrest. “I wanted to start off by apologizing for getting off on the wrong foot. We were unacceptably late that first day. And I couldn’t help but pick up that you had an…
interesting encounter with Dax to boot. That’s not exactly a fantastic way to start this project. ”
I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking. Then I set the glass down with a sigh. “I can see why he’s not the primary client-facing representative.”
Barrett’s mouth twitched. “He has a bit of a colorful past. He’s trying to go straight but some habits die hard.”
“Sounds sketchy,” I said, but made sure the lilt to my voice gave away the tease. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you invited a criminal onto my property.”
When Barrett didn’t say anything immediately, looking uncomfortable, I actually flinched in shock. “Wait. Don’t tell me…?”
“It’s not what you think. He was involved with street fighting since he was a kid, is all. But he’s not a bad guy even if he is a little rough around the edges. I can vouch for that,” he said.
I put a hand on my hip, shifting my weight. “You know, Mr. Wade, you strike me as the type of guy who can’t help but be honest. And while that’s an admirable show of integrity you have there, I can’t help but wonder if some things should probably just stay a secret.”
“You’d have preferred if I didn’t tell you?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.
I shrugged. “Not exactly. I appreciate the transparency and the apology. Even if I think most of it probably has to do with salvaging that Google review rating. It makes for one hell of a criminal rehabilitation program, I’ll say that much.”
Barrett actually laughed, the warm and deep sound surprising both of us.
Heat pooled in my belly, flush with pleasure that I’d actually gotten the stoic, professional foreman to break his facade, if only for one joke.
And if I was being honest with myself, most of my clients never got a real second chance.
It made me respect Barrett all the more for actually giving Dax one.
“Well, if I want to earn that five-star review, I better make sure everything goes smoothly. Which is another thing I wanted to discuss with you,” he said.
“You should know what our plans are for the next three-day timeline. We’re starting tomorrow by sistering those sagging joists Dax was talking about, replacing the rotted subfloor in the bathroom, and prepping to open up your kitchen layout on the first floor as planned.
Thursday we do rough-in plumbing and electrical inspections.
And then Friday we close up the walls so that you can have some more privacy again. ”
As he said the last part, I noticed that his ears turned red again. Was he still flustered from earlier? How charming. An irrational part of me wanted to tease him about it, as though we were friends and not in a client-contractor relationship. Bad form, Lane.
But it was so tempting when Barrett was being this charming without even trying.
“Sounds like you have everything perfectly under control,” I said, half to myself. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but there was still a warmth to him that felt welcoming. His dark eyes were pensive, coffee-colored and just as invigorating to drink in. Heavy, dark brows knit together in a frown.
“Only when I have all the variables. And one that I’m a little wary of is your kindly old neighbor upstairs,” he said.
I groaned and went to the fridge, pulling it open even though I already knew there were like three items inside. I needed an urgent restock. “Had the pleasure of meeting Sandy Manning, then did you?”
“The displeasure, I should say,” Barrett replied, voice gruff. “He tried to force his way in here while you were at work. Claimed he was doing some inspection or other but I sent him packing, told him he wasn’t allowed on the job site.”
Now that got my attention. I slammed the fridge shut, turning around and staring at Barrett. “That man has been trying to get me out of this place since I first moved in. I’m sorry you have to deal with him now, too. He probably views you as tainted by association.”
Another little tug at the corner of his mouth. “He can try all he wants but as long as we’re here, he’s not so much as getting a foot in that door.”
I didn’t know if it was the depth of his voice, or the steadiness of his gaze when he delivered the words, or even just the confidence in his posture, but I felt oddly reassured.
Sandy offered little threat to me in a courtroom, but that didn’t mean that living with someone who very clearly viewed me as a problem he needed to solve, wasn’t just a tad nerve-wrecking.
Knowing that these guys were willing to look out for me enough to keep him out of my house gave me a sweep of relief that I didn’t want to admit I’d needed. I smiled at Barrett, something inside of me uncoiling.
“Thank you, Barrett,” I told him.
“My pleasure, Miss Whittaker. And please, call me Bear,” he answered.
“Bear,” I tested the nickname out, recognizing the significance of being offered it in the first place. It only felt right to reciprocate. “Got it. And…call me Lane.”