Chapter 4
I face off with the short, petite woman and hold back a smirk. She thinks she can come out here all full of fire and tell me to stop working? Snap her fingers and get her way? I know her type. I can tell just by looking at her that she’s one of those uppity, big-city rich women who thinks the world revolves around her.
I watched her pick her way over here. Tommy pointed out that the guest at the luxury cabin was waving her arms. At first, he thought she was trying to capture someone’s attention for the sake of having it. Women could be like that. This little blondie wouldn’t be the first I’ve come across, wanting to have men’s eyes on her for the thrill of knowing she was hot enough to turn heads.
Because she was. As she climbed down the wet steps at her cabin, then stumbled over the rocky dirt and clumps of mud between her lodging and the road we were putting in, she damn near teetered over and fell no fewer than a dozen times. I could give her credit for determination. Instead of stopping to preserve her fancy, pretty heels that made the trip far more treacherous than it normally might be otherwise, she charged ahead, not turning back until she could give us a piece of her mind.
I watched as she shouted at big old Barry, too, but he was tone-deaf to defiant women. He likely put up with enough crap from his three teenage daughters to want to hear this woman bitching at him while he was on the clock.
I took my time in approaching her, figuring she might cool down once she was no longer in danger of slipping or tripping on her walk here.
But no.
I stand before her for a moment, doing my best not to stare at her and make her any madder. She noticed when I lost control. My curiosity won out and yeah, I looked my fill. From her mud-crusted heels, up those shapely legs, past her trim waist, over her generous rack, and all the way up to her curly short hair, I took her in and sized her up. My diagnosis? She was hot, easily one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and with that defiant lift of her chin and the sizzling anger in her eyes, one of the boldest.
“I don’t care who you are,” she sasses back. “But you have to quiet down out here.”
I lick my lips and cross my arms. “Is that so?”
“Yes!” She stomps one foot and windmills one arm to avoid falling.
I bite my lip. If I laugh, steam will rise from her head.
“And who might you be?” I ask cockily. I’m awfully intrigued to know who she is, especially since Dalton hasn’t told me that he’s planning on having a guest at that cabin yet.
Hayes used to have a lock on most of the construction work up this way, but Dalton never cared for my competitor, opting to hire me for the work he needed done. I’m supervising the installation of a new road this way, making it easier for the luxury cabins out here to be flipped for Dalton to rent. This spitfire’s cabin happens to be closest to where we are currently working on the project. It’s a shame she’ll have to put up with our noise and dust during her stay, but that’s on Dalton, not me. The man has millions, if not billions, so I can’t understand why he would find a guest prematurely.
“I’m Claire Rennard.” Her chin tips up higher yet, and I want to smile wider at her attitude. What, she thinks she can look down her nose at me? She’s a full head shorter!
“And you, Mr. Sawyer—”
She points that finger at me, and I catch it. “Mr. Cameron. Sawyer Cameron,” I clarify.
She didn’t take my hand to shake in the simplest version of polite manners, but now I regret offering to touch her at all. She’s sizzling in every way, burning me up with the feel of her wicked glare and the smooth, warm, softness of her skin. She has the silky kind of skin that needs to be caressed, kissed, and treasured, and I can’t help but notice the contrast of my filthy hand in her soft one.
She’s delicate, I can tell, but her sass suggests the opposite.
You’re one of those walking contradictions, aren’t you?
“And you,” she complains as she yanks her hand back to form a fist to put at her hip again, “need to quiet it down.”
“I can’t just stop a day’s work because you want a morning nap.”
She growls. “I’m not telling you to stop. Just keep it down.”
I lean in, getting mesmerized by her golden eyes streaked with brown. “We can’t exactly do this quietly.”
Her lips curl again, and she huffs.
“Take it up with Dalton,” I advise as she slits her eyes at me, honing her fury in a finely sharpened dagger.
“I will.”
I grin, curious how the man will react to this hotheaded complaint. He has no business telling a guest they can stay this close to the worksite without expecting noise.
As this woman turns, she doesn’t disappoint. She twirls around abruptly, likely eager to show me she’ll storm elsewhere to get her way, but she moves so quickly that she almost falls over—again. Her arms shoot up in the air, and her mouth falls open in a gasp. With wide eyes, she tips to the side, but I’m quicker. I grip her elbow, catching her before she can face-plant. Once more, I’m seared. A simple touch is all it takes to make me burn inside, and when her cheeks go pink, I’m guessing she’s feeling the same damn streak of electrical zing that I am.
That or a mighty hit of embarrassment.
She jerks her arm free and glowers again, probably wishing her evil eyes could smite me on the spot.
Mad, sassy, and cranky. It doesn’t matter which. She’s beautiful no matter what. I would be quick to say she’s gorgeous if not for that big ol’ chip on her shoulder.
“Hey, since you’re apparently the boss,” I tease, “you can keep an eye on my crew today.”
Among the hoots and hollers that rise up from my men at the taunt, I watch her walk away, teetering with her arms out due to the constant threat of tripping.
Unbelievable.
Barry sets his drill down and furrows his brow at me. “Why’s a guest at that cabin when Dalt knows we ain’t done with this part yet?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure.” But I’ll be meeting up with him in an hour to talk about all the projects, and I plan to ask him about this development.
Now that the billionaire real estate mogul is done with the city and has moved here to live with his girlfriend, Aubrey, he’s got his hands full with similar projects here. His main focus is restoring the old hotels and ski resorts abandoned all over Summit County. It’s a solid source of work for me, but first, he’s prioritizing my crews completing residential work on his land. Once we’re done building this new road through his acreage, we’ll be able to connect it to a trio of luxury cabins nearby that are in the works as well.
“So, I met the one and only sexy Ms. Rennard earlier when she wanted to bitch about me for ruining her chances of a nap…” I say after I’ve brought him up to speed about where my crews are at.
He sighs and shakes his head. “She called me already. I’m sorry, Sawyer. My cousin’s behavior is inexcusable.”
Cousin? Shit, maybe I should leave out that part about her being sexy then.
“She needed a place to stay.”
As if she can’t afford one, right?
“And she’s been through a lot.”
What, not getting her way every time she made a demand?
He shrugs, furrowing his brow as he looks off in the distance. The man has never been one to offer a ton of words, so the fact he’s sharing this much is odd, almost like a word vomit.
“I can’t make excuses for her, but I am sorry she went off on you.”
I grin and lift my hands. “Hey, no worries. I can handle a sassy woman.”
His smile seems off, like he can’t make sense of what I said. “Sassy? Barry said she was acting like a diva who wanted to throttle you.”
“Sort of.”
“She’s something like a little sister to me and Caleb, but that doesn’t mean she’s got any right to act like that.”
“How long will she be here?” I scratch the back of my neck, hating that he added that part. A little sister? I wasn’t exactly best friends with this guy, but that sounded an awfully lot like something a man couldn’t ignore in the bro code.
Dalton telling me that Claire is like a little sister means I can’t be harsh with her. She’s under his protection. I can tell. It also implies hands-off, no matter what.
“I’m not sure,” he admits, and I can’t decide how to interpret that. Disappointment fills me with the prospect that she might not stick around at all. Because sassy or not, a friend’s sibling or not, I am too damned curious about her already.