Chapter 10
10
brAD
We’d been working together for over a week. Chloe had been a quick learner and had passed her wood chipper training with flying colours. Friday evening, I pulled the company truck into the Prunery’s parking lot and parked it in the usual spot. Chloe climbed out and together we unloaded the equipment and hauled it to the workbenches where we busied ourselves cleaning and sharpening what we’d used that day.
John was talking with Blair, the B Team leader, as I set my chain saws on the bench. He glanced up, frowned, rocked on his heels a couple times before returning to his conversation with Blair.
“Did you see that,” I said to Chloe, keeping my voice low. “How John rocked liked that? That’s a sign he’s not happy about something.”
She repositioned herself to the side of the bench so it would appear she was still working but would have a better view of John. “He’s not doing it now. What would he be unhappy about? We’ve not done anything to make him unhappy, have we?”
I heard her unspoken, “Have I ?”
“Nope, nothing but happy clients here.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and patted it once. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
But when I checked John by looking at his reflection in the “We’ll go out on a limb for you” sign hanging over Team B’s workbench, John was back to rocking on his heels once more. Staring at me.
The moment Blair walked away, John narrowed his eyes at me and hooked his thumb toward his office. Shit.
I walked over to John’s office, but hesitated in the doorway, watching as Chloe said something to Finn, then Finn called to Evan, and how the two men followed Chloe to the truck.
To my satisfaction, they helped her unload the rest of our gear and carried it to my—our—workbench. To my relief, instead of walking away from her, Evan stayed with her. Was it relief? Or jealousy? Had I been hoping that I would be the one to show her how to do all those things, to give me a reason to be with her?
John leaned a hip against his desk. “Calhoun, get your ass in here and close the door.”
Double shit. Now I felt like I’d been called into the principal’s office. But this time I had no idea what I’d done wrong.
The moment the latch snicked in the door, John said, “How long you been bangin’ Pogue’s daughter?”
Triple shit. There was no use lying about it, might as well come clean.
“Dating her,” I corrected, my teeth clenched together. “Why?”
“Is that why you suggested I hire her?”
“I didn’t suggest you hire her.” I bit back the impulse to snap at him, instead working hard to keep my voice level. “You approached her, remember?”
“How come you didn’t think to mention you were dating her that first day?”
“I didn’t think it would be a problem. As far as I know there’s no company policy about dating a coworker. Especially given you and Molly work together.”
Not that there were any women on any of the teams, nor had there ever been. While I wondered if Finn and Chip’s friendship was actually something more, it wasn't any of my business unless they chose to make it my business. Not that I was about to mention it to John—he wasn’t homophobic, but if he decided to put a “no dating co-workers” policy in place, one of them or both might end up quitting and working for our competition. They were a damned good team that I’d hate to lose.
“Molly works in the office, not out on a site.”
“How’d you figure it out?” Had Chloe said something to him? Had one of the guys seen us somewhere and ratted us out? Had Molly been talking to Marilyn?
“You haven’t taken your eyes off her since she got out of that truck. Every damned day. You don’t look at the girls you date like that. Not the ones I’ve seen you with.”
Was I that obvious? I raised one shoulder and dropped it, hoping I didn’t give away this unnerving attraction.
John rocked on his heels. “What would you have done if she didn’t work out? If I had to fire her? Or if I have to let her go in the future? We going to have a problem?”
I shook my head. “Not on my end. She can either cut it or she can’t.” That was out of my control. Besides, Chloe was holding her own. I decided not to mention Chloe didn’t see the job as a permanent solution and was still looking for desk-oriented employment, shall we say.
“Be careful, Brad. You’re the chief arborist, which makes you senior to her. Everything you do in regards to her, every thought, every movement, everything you say to her or around her puts this whole company into a very dicey situation if your relationship with her goes south. I don’t want to find myself faced with a sexual harassment suit in the future because of your hormones. You hear me?”
Shit. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Because I’m putting her on Blair’s team and you’ll be working with Nash again.”
Fuck.
“Oh, and get working on that business proposal for the bank. Molly’s father is in hospital. Heart attack. She’s wanting to move out there right the fuck now so I’m going to be selling. Sooner rather than later.”
Double fuck. I needed more time.
Despite John’s warning ringing in my head, I tried to focus all my attention on my tools, but I couldn’t help but be aware of Chloe sharpening one of the pruners beside me. Couldn’t help be aware of her throaty laugh when Finn said something to her. Aware of the way she handled the tools so efficiently. Okay, that was weird, I know, but I found her competency sexy as hell. While the company overalls hid her figure, I found myself imagining her at home, unzipping them and letting them drop to her feet. What was she wearing underneath? I could see a T-shirt underneath the collar, but was she wearing jeans beneath? Shorts? It was warm enough today to dress in something lighter than denim.
I caught my fingers in a pulley and yelped, then swore loudly as I dropped the damned device with a loud clatter, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Hey boss, looks like Calhoun set us back on our safety record,” Chip called from his workstation. “Better change that sign from ‘Days without an accident’ from 275 to 0.”
“Yeah, John you better dock Brad the fine,” Finn called.
“Fuck off, you idiots. I pinched myself. It’s not a reportable injury. There’s not even any blood.”
“There’s a fine if someone gets hurt?” Chloe asked.
“Not a monetary fine as such, but yeah, whoever caused the injury gets written up, especially if it was avoidable.”
“If you screw up and do something that could cause an injury, and we catch you, you’re expected to buy the whole crew lunch the next day,” Blair called. He scratched his head. “Do you think Brad owes us all lunch tomorrow?”
“I fucking pinched myself, B-man. I’m not a safety hazard.” To anyone but myself today, anyway. And possibly Chloe’s career.
For the record, to date, I’d never had to buy lunch for screwing up. Should I tell Chloe that if you had to buy lunch more than twice, you were let go because no one wanted to work with you after that?
“Hey, Chloe, how do you get down from a tree,” Chip called.
I threw him a grateful glance—Chip and Finn were always great with coming in with jokes to diffuse tension.
Chloe tilted her head in confusion. “I don’t know. One foot at a time?”
“You don’t,” Finn responded. “You get down from a duck!”
“Hey, Chloe, what’s the best thing to do for a blue spruce?” Chip again.
“I don’t know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What?”
“Tell it a joke to cheer it up,” Finn responded.
“Hey, Chloe,” Chip called. “Why are river birches so good with money?”
“I don’t know, why?” the entire crew yelled in response.
“Because they grow in banks!”
Chloe laughed as Finn high-fived Chip at their bench while I placed the rest of the cleaned and sharpened tools into place.
“Hey, Chip,” John said, standing in his doorway, his arms folded. “Why is it so difficult to run a tree care company?”
No one responded. I sighed and bit the bullet. “Why is it so difficult to run a tree care company, John?”
“Because every employee acts like the damned branch manager. Finish up, guys. I’m not paying you to be comedians. Chloe, Molly needs some information from you.”
I’d been debating asking Chloe if I could buy her dinner tonight, even offer to pick up some takeout and bring it her place, but with John’s warning about possible sexual harassment, my dating plans had come to a screeching halt. Trying not to take too lingering of a look at Chloe who was talking to Molly, I caught her eye, gave her a salute so she’d know I was leaving, and walked to my truck.
I jammed the key into the ignition and sat swearing at John, or maybe myself, for possibly sabotaging my chances with the one woman who had really sparked my interest in years.
Someone tapped on the driver’s side window, making me jump.
Chloe stood on the other side, her head tilted. “Everything all right?” she asked once I rolled down the window.
“I’m fine.” I held up my hand. Luckily it was my thumb, not my middle finger I’d caught. “See, not even a bruise.”
“Okay, but you’ve been sitting here for at least ten minutes, staring at the steering wheel.”
Shit. Had I?
I scrubbed my hands over my face. I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want her to break up with me over John knowing what was going on between us, but I didn't want to lie either. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
She tilted her head again as if she knew I was lying. “What did John call you in for?”
“Usual stuff, what’s coming up, how the chipper’s been working.” It had some issues on Blair’s watch yesterday I’d heard, so I’d taken it out today but not had any problems. It wasn’t a lie; we had discussed it. Earlier. “Oh, and by the way, John said he heard good things about you from yesterday’s clients.”
“Cool.” She hesitated, then said, “I want to go home and shower and stuff, but would you like to come over in like an hour? Maybe we could order in a pizza or something?”
“Um, I’d love to, but…” I slammed my head against the headrest and came clean. “John’s figured out that we’re dating. I’ve been warned to keep my distance because we’re coworkers now.”
She blinked. “Is it a company policy that coworkers aren’t supposed to date? I don’t remember seeing that in all the paperwork I signed.”
“No, it’s not a company policy. John’s worried that if things go south between us, you might sue the company for sexual harassment.”
She frowned. “I get that, but…isn’t it different if I ask you instead of the other way around?”
“I don’t know.” I heaved another sigh. “John’s putting you on Blair’s team next week. Don’t take it personally, okay?”
“I wouldn’t. Molly told me they were switching the teams around because Nash has been pissing everyone else off and they figure you’ll straighten him out. She didn’t say anything about us dating…or not dating.”
“We’ll figure something out.” I was not about to let this woman go, even if it meant leaving PRP and starting my own company or applying to one of the places in Peterborough. I could handle the commute. Besides, Peterborough had more office opportunities for Chloe if she wanted to tag along. While I'd prefer to stick with John, he might be selling to someone besides me, anyway, and if he sold to that other company instead of me, we'd all have to go to Peterborough or find other employment anyway. I sincerely doubted they'd take us on when they mostly had told John they wanted the equipment.
“You can still come out to my place,” Chloe said. “What John doesn’t know won’t hurt him, especially since it’s on our own time and we’re now on different teams.”
It made sense to me. “I’ll be over in about an hour. Want me to bring anything?”
“Just yourself.” She tapped my arm and stepped back, then after a quick glance over her shoulder, her lips curved and she said, “Though you could bring more condoms. The box you tucked into the drawer in the living room only has one left. The bedroom stash is getting low, too.”
Oh hell, if John wanted to fire me instead of selling me the business, let him. I was not about to turn down Chloe’s invitation. I waited until she got into her own vehicle and was pulling out before I started mine and headed to the drugstore for supplies.
The next morning, a wolf whistle greeted me as I climbed out of my truck and headed to the door to my apartment. My friend Malcolm Walsh, who was engaged to the owner of the coach house I rent, was sitting on the back porch nursing a coffee, his feet up on the railing. “Doin’ a walk of shame there, Calhoun?”
“You got nothing better to do with your time than spy on me, Walsh?”
He tilted his chin using it to point at the garage door. “I get a notification every time the camera detects movement, so I saw you go out last night and know you’re only coming back now.”
“You’ve got a hidden camera back here?” Shit.
“It’s in the coach light.”
I knew about the doorbell camera on their front door, but I hadn’t noticed a camera in the light. While Port Paxton wasn’t a hot bed of criminal activity, Malcolm probably wanted to make sure Ellie was safe when he wasn’t around. Or maybe he was a sucker for electronic technology. But they’d seen every time I pulled in or out of the driveway? Had the camera caught the times I’d kissed Chloe good-bye after our dates? Or when she’d arrived?
Oh shit. Or the time I’d taken her against the door, right beneath the light?
“As for your walk of shame,” Malcolm continued, “I recognized that shirt.”
“It’s a black T-shirt and jeans. I have a dozen of each,” I grumbled.
“But only one shirt has I Work with Cutting Edge Technology on the back.”
Shelly had made me this shirt for my birthday a couple years ago. The black cotton had faded to a dark gray and some of the letters were starting to wear off, but it was one of my favorite shirts. To my relief, she hadn’t printed the text using a glittery vinyl like the “Sawdust is Man Glitter” shirt Cynthia had given me last Christmas. Have I mentioned my sisters are craftaholics?
“Still seeing Chloe?”
“Yup.”
“What’s that make it then? A month?”
“Almost two.” Fifty-five days, and forty-one dates, most of which I’d either stayed at her place or she’d stayed at mine. Not that I’d admit to Malcolm that I’d kept track.
If I woke up at Chloe’s place that morning and went back to her place that night, then technically was it still the same date? I wasn’t quite clear. But it didn’t matter. Even though we hadn’t been dating long, I was damned sure she was the one for me.
But today I hadn’t come straight home from Chloe’s apartment. John had texted me to meet him at the Pancake Shack where he’d given me more figures to use in my business proposal.
And here was Malcolm, one of the few people I could talk to about it and get good advice. “You got a minute?”
He tipped his coffee mug toward one of the chairs beside him. “Park your butt. I’ve got all morning. Besides, Ellie wanted me to talk to you about something today anyway.”
The rattan chair he’d pointed to creaked beneath my weight as I lowered my ass onto it. Deciding I didn’t want to be responsible for breaking what was probably a fairly expensive set, I grabbed a wrought iron chair from a Victorian-style patio set in the garden. I set it down, twirled it around and straddled it, noticing Malcolm’s gray shirt had a saying on its back too. Electricians Do It In the Dark . I briefly wondered if he’d bought it or someone had made it for him as a joke. “What’s up?”
“Ellie wants me to give you a heads-up that she’s holding a barbecue here next weekend. It’s a business thing for her clients and potential clients, so it’s going to be a little more highbrow than my type of barbecues. You’re welcome to come…”
“But I’d probably not fit in or I’d be bored,” I finished when he trailed off.
“Hell, I figure I’m going to be bored stiff myself.” His nose wrinkled as he stared into his coffee mug. “I’ve met a few of her clients, and most of them are okay. But there are a couple real stick-in-the-mud rich assholes who think they’re better than us blue-collar people because we work with our hands instead of behind a desk pushing digital money around like they’re God’s greatest.”
“I know the type. They’re the ones who think they can slip us a twenty and expect us to be happy when they ask us to cut down three massive trees, and remove all the debris like anybody could do it.”
“Bingo.” Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face. “Anyway, as I said, you’re welcome to come, but it’s not a fun get-together.” I caught the implication that the only gathering Malcolm threw was fun. He wasn’t wrong. “She’s even hired a bartender to serve wine and cocktails like it’s some fancy English garden party.”
“No beer?” Who held a barbecue that didn’t serve beer?
“There’ll be beer, but it’s those artsy-fartsy artisanal craft beers that have floral or citrus notes.” We both shuddered. “Oh, and get this. They’re not grilling burgers. Or hot dogs. The chef she’s bringing in is known for their cucumber and tofu sandwiches and other fine health-conscious finger food.”
“Thanks but I think I’ll pass.” Maybe I could ask Chloe if she wanted to go out on the lake with me. I could borrow Finn’s boat, and take her out to the sandbar. I liked the idea of seeing her in a bathing suit. Maybe I could borrow a cabin cruiser that would give us some privacy. Motion of the ocean and all that.
“The best part of the whole plan is the desserts are going to be provided by Paxton Pastries.” Who made the best butter tarts, apple fritters and Long Johns this side of Toronto. Hell, maybe even including the Big Smoke.
“Tempting, but I can go downtown and buy directly from them without danger of being forced to eat anything with tofu.”
“I’m telling you, man, I’m right there with you. I’m trying to figure out a way to sneak in my own burgers, but I think that would piss off Ellie. Which will piss off her mom and Gingernuts too. I don’t need more trouble from her brother.” He jammed his feet back up on the railing, took another long slug of coffee. “What did you want to talk to me about? Women problems?”
“No. Chloe and me are fine, thanks.” A couple weeks ago she’d introduced me to her parents as her boyfriend, which had earned me a once-over, but considering I’d done work for them, and lived locally, they already knew my history. Mostly. But for me, I was thrilled to be promoted to Chloe’s boyfriend as opposed to just a friend. I blew out a breath as I considered my dilemma. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone because it could cause a panic at work, so you have to promise you won’t say anything to anyone either.”
He crossed his heart, then drew an imaginary zipper across his lips. “Won’t say a word to anyone.”
Satisfied, I nodded. “My boss’s father-in-law had a heart attack a couple days ago. Her folks live down in New Brunswick, so Molly wants to move to help them out. Which means they’re motivated to sell the business, sell their house and move ASAP.” I met Malcolm’s gaze. “John’s offered to give me first shot at buying him out. Client list, equipment, take over the business, the crews, the whole shebang.”
“That’s great.” Malcolm’s brows furrowed. “What’s he asking? Can you afford it?”
I named the figure John had given me, and Malcolm’s jaw dropped almost as much as mine had. “There’s that much money in cutting down trees?”
“We do more than cut trees,” I grumbled. “As I said, it’s more than just the client list, it’s the wood chippers, the trucks, including the bucket lift,” which he often rented out—with a proper trained employee of course—to other businesses who needed one occasionally. “It’s even the workshop. Which he owns. It’s not rented. Now I’ve gotta factor buying land into the bargain.”
I’d thought he’d rented the workshop which would have made things a bit more affordable. Probably. Maybe.
“Ellie’s been helping me write up a business proposal to take to the bank. But I figured I’d have more time. Anyway, I stopped off at the bank this morning and made an appointment with the loan officer. He said I should bring in all my information, taxes for last year, pay stubs, my financial records—what I pay you guys for rent, utilities. I have to make my case to prove I’m a good risk.”
“Okay,” Malcolm said. “Sounds reasonable. You can do it.”
“I learned tree care and safe climbing techniques at college, Mal.” Did my voice just go up an octave and reveal the fear jacking me up right now? “I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing. What did you do when you started your business?”
“Dude, I already owned all my tools. As for the business, the guy who trained me didn’t have a client list when he retired. I kept his phone number so any old clients who phoned him got me instead.”
“Shit.“ So not a help. “This banker? He’s slick as snot and I feel like I’m back in grade eleven physics. I’m going to look like an idiot in there.”
Malcolm lifted his cup to take another sip then lowered it. “You need to practice.” Before I could answer, he twisted in his seat and yelled, “Hey, Ell, can you come out here? We need to help Brad. You may need to bring in your mom.” He took another sip of his coffee, and added, “And maybe Gingernuts. He might be able to help too.”
One of these days I’d convince Malcolm to tell me what had brought on this sudden urge to tweak Ellie’s brother’s tail. There had to be some story I hadn’t heard about, but I swore to myself not to call Josh Mason Gingernuts, though I now couldn’t get that name out of my head.
CHLOE
I read the article for the third time, then slammed the laptop shut. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Brad asked as he wandered from my bedroom into the living room wearing only his boxers. Damn, the man had a chest of steel and legs that went on forever.
“People suck.” I waved a hand to distract him. “Remind me not to start my day reading social media.”
“Don’t start your day reading social media,” he repeated soberly.
“Thanks so much, smart guy.” I found myself distracted by his barely hidden woody. “Come over here and let me help you with that.”
“As much as I’d love to comfort you from whatever pissed you off, I’ve got places to be, work to be done.”
“Like what? It’s Sunday.” I walked over to him and dropped to my knees in front of him to cup his balls in my palm.
“I promised Mrs. B I’d go out and fix up her chicken coop.” He swore beneath his breath when I pulled his boxers to his ankles, releasing his erect dick. “I gotta get dressed, then head to Mrs. B’s. She wouldn’t appreciate me showing up like this.”
“But it’s Sunday,” I repeated. “Your day off.”
“I promised Mrs. B,” he repeated, though he’d caught his bottom lip between his teeth and rocked into my hand as I caressed the hard shaft.
“This won’t take long. Unless you want it to, big guy.”
Without waiting for an answer, I took his hard length in my mouth, enjoying how he threaded his fingers through my hair and thrust into me. Before he could finish, I pulled him down onto the couch and straddled him.
We were both sweaty, sated and needed another shower by the time I rolled off him.
“Fuck me, woman, you’ve made me late.”
I walked my fingers down his chest, wondering if I could coax another erection to form. “I dare you to say you didn’t enjoy yourself.”
“I did, but maybe we can come back to this later?” He shifted from beneath me and struggled to his feet. “I really am late and I hate to make Mrs. B wait on me.”
“What are you really doing out there for her this time? Painting her deck? Pruning her lilacs so John won’t know you’re working on the side? Or are you doing her grocery shopping again? Don’t say you’re helping her fix her chicken coop because I’ve been out there, remember? We fixed it up already.”
“She decided it’s not going to last another winter so she bought another one off Kijiji — I picked it up for her last night and dropped it off while you were having your girl time with Amanda. I promised her I’d go back this morning to replace the roof and to make sure the chicken wire for the outside run is buried deep enough that animals can’t burrow under it.”
Of course he had. Heaven forbid he’d actually take some time off for himself. He was always helping people, not just Mrs. B.
“I’ve hardly seen you all week. If you’re not at Marilyn’s, you’re helping Malcolm or Ellie or over at the Mason’s office doing whatever it is you’re doing there.” I trailed him into the bedroom and satisfied myself with watching him pull on a clean set of briefs, blue jeans and a dark-blue T-shirt with “I’ll go out on a limb for you” in white text across the chest, and “Trees are life” on the back. One of a dozen shirts his sister had made for him.
Turned out I’d gone to school with Shelly, even been in the same homeroom for two years. Plus, I’d shared an English class in grade eleven with Joy. Shelly had been big into knitting, crocheting and a bunch of other crafts back then, but now she had a small shop in Dartsmouth featuring local handmade items and supplied all her family members with clothing, claiming they were walking billboards for her shop. She’d sent me one that, with Brad’s urging, proclaimed I was the “Chainsaw Whisperer.”
Brad’s shoulders stiffened, his shirt halfway over his head. “I like to help people.”
So I’d discovered. I’d also learned he refused to take any sort of payment for his help. Brad was one of the good guys. So different from Tony who would only help someone if he could get something—money—from them. I reminded myself Brad might think I was needy or clingy if I whined any more but I’d missed him. Especially since we were no longer on the same team at work.
“I know,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “You coming back here afterward? Or do you want me to meet you over at your place? Or are you going to go help Malcolm again tonight?”
Damn it, I couldn’t help the tiny whine that crept into my voice. This guy was becoming my drug of choice.
“Sorry I’ve been busy so much lately.” He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. “Malcolm is halfway done the job and he needs an extra pair of hands. I know I haven’t been around as much either of us would like, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
I kissed his chin, or what I hoped was his chin beneath his beard. “I know you will. It’ll give me time to give myself a manicure or something.” Thanks to the job, my nails were in horrible shape, even though I always wore gloves.
“Listen, Ellie’s throwing a party Friday night. They told me I could bring a date if I wanted. It’s a garden party sort of thing, not a barbecue. She said casual dressy. I figured that meant I’d need to wear a shirt, but maybe not a tie? You could wear that yellow sundress in your closet?”
I laughed. “You’ve been eyeing that sundress ever since I told you how easily the spaghetti straps come undone.”
“Of course. I have big plans for undoing those straps—” he cupped my breasts “—and revealing these beauties. Not in front of the guests of course. In private.”
“I could put it on right now. Let you practice.”
He sighed and dropped his hands from my chest. “I can’t. I really need to get out to Mrs. B’s and get that that coop in order. She’s already arranged for five new hens to be dropped off next week, so the clock is ticking.” He picked up his tool belt, slung it over his shoulder, then walked backward toward the door. “What do you say about the party? If you get bored, we can go up to my apartment and you can show me how easily those straps untie.” He raised his eyebrows with a grin. “Or if you want, we can go out for dinner, somewhere nice, since we’re going to be dressed up anyway. Maybe drive into Peterborough or down to Whitby?”
“We can discuss it tonight. I’ll wear my yellow sundress for you to practice on.” That had to be better than doing whatever it was he was doing with Malcolm.
“I’m no dummy, but I might be late. So if you get tired, we can play undress Chloe another day.”
Before I could protest, he kissed my forehead—no one had kissed my forehead since I was twelve—and went clomping down the stairs to the street.
I will admit that I threw myself on the couch and pouted like that sullen twelve-year-old.