Читать книгу Thunderstruck - Vicki Lewis Thompson - Страница 11

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PHIL UNDERSTOOD RIGHT away why Rosie had said Damon had his pick of women. His expression when he’d caught sight of her had been filled with enough warm masculine appreciation to coax a response from her normally unflappable libido. All the years she’d spent hanging out with construction guys should have made her immune to such glances. Instead, her hormones were dancing a spirited two-step.

His reaction when he’d realized who she was had been adorable to watch. His gray eyes, much more compelling in person than in the pictures Rosie had shown her, went wide with shock. His mouth dropped open, and his handsome face turned red under his tan.

His deep voice, which she’d liked the minute she’d heard it, grew husky with embarrassment, which made him sound sexy as hell. “I had no idea.”

“Gotcha!” Rosie looked immensely pleased with herself.

Damon turned to her. “Mom, you tricked me! How was I supposed to know that a carpenter named Phil was a—”

“You didn’t know her name when you jumped to conclusions.” Rosie smiled in obvious triumph. “That information came later in the conversation.”

“But hearing it convinced me even more! Why didn’t you correct me?”

Phil began to feel sorry for the poor man, but she was a bystander in this drama.

Fortunately, Herb came to the rescue. “She wanted to make a point, son.” He put his arm around Damon’s shoulders, which required him to reach up a ways. “She wanted to stretch your mind a little, challenge some of your preconceived ideas.”

“Which I did.” Rosie couldn’t seem to stop grinning.

Damon’s gaze swung to Phil. “You had to be in on this. You never dropped the slightest hint. The whole time we were emailing, you sounded like a guy discussing a construction project.”

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He might be gorgeous, but he could be in need of an attitude adjustment. “And how would a woman sound when she discussed that topic?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure since I don’t normally discuss construction with ladies. Just...different.”

Phil got it now. Obviously, Rosie had been justified in playing this little trick. “Maybe you’re imagining something like this.” She modulated her voice to make it softer and more tentative. “Gee, I can’t decide whether we should order the eight-inch-thick logs or the twelve-inch. What do you think? You have way more experience than I do.”

His jaw firmed. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t expect women to defer to me.”

“How about women carpenters?” She held his gaze.

Defiance flashed in his eyes. “Not them, either.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him. Before this little trick, he might have expected her to let him be in charge. Now he wouldn’t dare. “Good. We should get along just fine.”

Herb clapped his hands together. “Glad that’s settled! Who’s ready for a drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Cade said. “Lexi had a riding student this afternoon, but she should be here any minute.”

Rosie linked her arm through Phil’s. “Let’s go toast the construction of Cabin Number Four. I chilled a bottle of that dry white you like.”

Damon frowned. “You drink wine?”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, but I thought you drank beer.”

“Once in a while I do, but when someone offers a good white wine, I’ll take that any day.”

Damon waved a hand in the air. “Don’t mind me. I’m still adjusting to the new reality.” His smile seemed a little forced. “You guys go ahead with happy hour. I’m going to mosey down to the construction site before it gets too dark to see how it looks.”

After growing up around testosterone-driven males, she knew that statement for what it was—an excuse that would allow him to retreat, lick his wounds and nurse his grievances. But she wasn’t going to let him brood and build up a potential cache of resentment.

“I’ll go with you.” The trap had been sprung, and he’d been set back on his heels. But they’d be working together for the next week, and the rapport they’d established through emails was probably shot to hell. She should have anticipated that.

“Okay.” He didn’t sound eager to have her tag along.

That was to be expected. She’d just helped deceive him, so she’d have to work to win back his trust. He probably deserved the comeuppance. She didn’t know him well enough to say for sure. Guaranteed he had some outdated ideas about women’s work and men’s work, but so did a lot of guys. She hoped that wouldn’t interfere with this project.

“Don’t be long,” Rosie said. “Don’t want you to miss my famous pot roast.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Damon gave her a more genuine smile before turning to Phil. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

He didn’t say anything as they started walking out to the meadow. The earth was spongy from the previous night’s rain, and they had to detour around a couple of muddy spots. The three existing cabins followed a curve that would be a complete half circle when the fourth was built. The bathhouse stretched in a straight line behind them.

“I hope you know that Rosie loves you to pieces,” Phil said at last, to break the ice.

“I know.” He didn’t look at her as he kept walking.

But she could almost hear him thinking, so she waited to see if he’d open up.

Finally, he let out a breath. “And it was a pretty harmless trick. God knows we had practical jokes going all the time when I lived here. Cade had an endless supply of rubber snakes, and I was the master of short-sheeting a bed. We put jalapeño peppers in each other’s food and glued the toilet seats shut. Whatever prank you can think of, we probably did it.”

“But?” She suspected there was more to that little speech.

“But I thought of you as a friend. And now you’re...you’re a woman.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “It sounds as if those two things are mutually exclusive in your world.”

“Well, no, but...” His voice trailed off as if he couldn’t find the right words.

“I’m not trying to defend what Rosie and I engineered, but what if you’d known all along that I was a woman? Would you have felt as confident putting me in charge of the foundation, the wiring and the permitting?”

His hesitation supplied the answer.

“Look at all we accomplished before you ever arrived!” She stepped onto the foundation, which gave her an inch or two advantage over him. She was amused when he immediately climbed up on it, too.

Tarp-covered, numbered piles of twelve-inch logs were stacked nearby. A forklift stood ready to move them into position. Everything else was here, too—windows, the front door, roof beams and the hunter-green metal roofing that would match the other three cabins. Power tools and rolls of ceiling insulation were stored in the second cabin because Damon would be staying in the first one.

“You’ve done a great job.” He gazed at her.

“I’m glad you approve. Not to brag, but we had a hard rain last night, and you notice there’s no evidence of water pooling anywhere on this slab.”

“I did notice that. Who did the trowel work?”

“The guys from Rocky Mountain Concrete and Excavating. And me.”

He nodded slowly, as if absorbing that. “So your name’s Philomena, huh?”

“It was my mother’s middle name.”

“Was?”

“She died when I was a toddler.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t really remember her. My dad always says he loves me twice as much since I only have him.”

“He’s in Sheridan?”

“No, Cheyenne.”

“Hmm.” Damon studied her as if trying to decipher a confusing blueprint.

“The point is, I’m qualified to handle the site preparation, but I’m not sure you would have believed that if you’d been dealing with Philomena instead of Phil.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his sun-streaked hair. “Maybe not. I don’t know a lot of lady construction folks, especially ones who are the owner of the company.”

“It’s not a very big company. I’m the only person in it.”

“Even so, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” She looked into his eyes and fought the visceral tug she’d experienced when they’d met. Maybe her attraction to him was partly Rosie’s doing. He’d had a lot of advance billing, and Phil had thought she was taking it all with a grain of salt.

Now she wondered if Rosie’s sales pitch had worked like a charm. She couldn’t deny that Damon Harrison turned her on. Standing here in the meadow surrounded by fragrant pines and wildflowers, she could still distinguish his unique scent. The combination of soap, a woodsy aftershave and a pheromone-laden male aroma excited the hell out of her. She’d only touched him once, when they’d shaken hands, but she wanted to touch him again.

No doubt his skin would be warm and humming with excitement, just like hers. He was one virile specimen, and she was as susceptible as the next woman. Perhaps more so, because she’d been depressingly celibate for the past year.

Sometimes life worked out that way. First you had the dry spell when no eligible males showed up, and then Fate played a joke and brought you a guy who oozed sexuality but had no intention of settling down. She didn’t kid herself that she’d be the woman to change his mind. That kind of thinking led to disaster.

His chest heaved. It was a chest worth contemplating, but she made herself concentrate on his words.

“Listen, Phil.” He sounded endearingly earnest. “I realize that you being a woman shouldn’t change anything, but for me, it changes everything.”

“I don’t know why it should.” She was bluffing. She knew exactly what he meant. They weren’t just a man and a woman working on the same construction project. They were attracted to each other and they were both aware of it.

“You know why it matters.”

She swallowed. “Okay, I do.”

“I’m supposed to view you as another professional, and I’ll try my best to do that, but you’re...you’re beautiful. And I have to ask, because it’s in my DNA, is there some boyfriend or fiancé who’ll clean my clock if I make inappropriate advances?”

“Not at the moment.” She was having trouble catching her breath. “Are you going to?”

“Going to what?”

“Make inappropriate advances.”

“Do you want me to?” He took a step closer.

“I don’t know yet.” She sucked in a lungful of air. “I need to think about that, which I can’t do when you’re standing there telling me I’m beautiful.”

He smiled. “Just stating a fact, ma’am.”

Oh, dear God. She could eat him up with a spoon. “I’m going...” She pointed back toward the house. “Back.” Damn, she couldn’t even talk right. If she didn’t vamoose right this minute, she’d do something totally out of character, like grab him and plant a kiss on that smiling mouth.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No!” She backed away. “I mean, you should stay here and...and inspect the site. That’s what you came out here for, right?”

“I came out here to get my bearings.”

“Okay, but you can still inspect the site. You haven’t really looked at it.”

He didn’t let up on that devastating smile. “Too busy looking at you.”

“That’s why I need to leave. See you at the house.” She hopped down from the cement slab and speed-walked back to safety. She wanted to run, but then she’d be out of breath and chances were everyone was sitting on the porch with their drinks. Good thing the cabins weren’t in view of the porch.

Sure enough, there they sat—Rosie, Herb, Cade and Lexi all relaxing in natural-finish Adirondack chairs. Rosie was the first to throw out a comment. “Don’t tell me you had a fight already.”

“Heavens, no.” Her cheeks felt warm, but everyone was used to seeing her blush. It was what redheads did. “He just wanted to walk around the site some more, and I was getting thirsty.”

“Let me take care of that.” Herb left his chair and crossed to the metal ice chest that always made an appearance during happy hour on the porch. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” She knew better than to argue about being waited on. For as long as she’d been coming out to Thunder Mountain to handle routine maintenance, Herb and Rosie had treated her more like a guest than a worker. They always offered food, drinks and conversation. Consequently, they were clients who’d turned into friends.

She sat down in one of the two empty chairs positioned beside Lexi. Obviously someone, probably Rosie the matchmaker, had set things up so that Damon would take the other chair. She was determined to be in control of herself when he arrived.

Herb handed her a chilled glass of white. Wiry and fit, he’d had a long career as an equine vet and seemed excited about teaching some basic skills to the teens they hoped to attract to the new program.

“You know, I just thought of something.” Herb gazed down at her with those kind eyes that had inspired confidence in both humans and animals for years. “You could have built that cabin without Damon, so—”

“I could have, but it’ll be faster with both of us working. And he wants to do this. I never once thought you should have hired me to do it alone. He won’t charge a dime, while I plan to take full advantage of the riding lessons Lexi’s offered me in exchange for my efforts.”

“I certainly hope so.” Lexi smiled. “You’ve been talking about learning to ride ever since I met you.”

“And I never seem to find the time or the money. This eliminates the money issue, so I’m determined to make the time right after Damon and I finish the cabin.” As she said that she reminded herself not to ignore the fact that he’d head back to California in seven short days.

Normally she wouldn’t consider getting involved with a guy who was here today and gone tomorrow. But whether it was due to Rosie’s influence or not, she’d been hit hard by his first appreciative glance. And that unrehearsed speech about her beauty hadn’t come across as a line.

A man like Damon didn’t need a line to get a woman into bed. He had the kind of sexual potency that obliterated logic and caution. If she spent too much time thinking about the way he’d smiled at her, she’d end up knocking on his cabin door tonight.

“Phil?”

With a start she realized Rosie had spoken to her. “What?”

“Do you think that you and Damon will be able to work together?”

“Sure.” It was the answer she was supposed to give, but privately she wondered if they’d end up sneaking off to have sex in the woods, which would seriously impact the schedule.

“If you have any doubts, we can still call Gerald. He’s not as good a carpenter as you are, but—”

“You won’t have to do that. Damon and I will be fine.” She flinched at the idea of Gerald taking over. He was a nice enough guy, but he was sloppy. He didn’t charge the hourly rate she did, but given his lack of expertise, he shouldn’t.

Damon would hate working with Gerald. The job would end up taking longer because Damon would have to fix whatever Gerald screwed up. Phil’s work would pass muster, assuming she could keep her mind on it.

She would keep her mind on it. The project was too important to allow an inconvenient case of lust to interfere. And speaking of lust-inducing men, here he came.

Even his walk was sexy, the rat. He’d managed to locate an old straw cowboy hat, and if he’d been irresistible before, now he was deadly.

“I see you found your hat,” Cade said.

“Picked it up when I went down to the barn to pay a social call on my old pal Ringo.” He climbed up on the porch and grabbed a beer from the cooler. “That’s some cat you have, Gallagher. He remembered me.”

Phil didn’t doubt it. Who wouldn’t remember this guy?

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Cade sipped his beer. “He remembers anybody who brings him kitty treats.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have them with me. They’re still in my duffel.” Damon twisted off the cap and took a swig of his beer. “He came right over.”

“So he gave you the benefit of the doubt this time. Keep showing up without treats and see what happens.”

“He’s my buddy. He’d come to see me.” Damon glanced at the Adirondack chair next to Phil. His gray eyes sparkled. “Excuse me, ma’am. Is this seat taken?”

“Be my guest.” Oh, yes, he was charming, and she was more of a sucker for his brand of charm than she’d ever imagined.

“We never drank that toast to Cabin Number Four,” Rosie said. “We should do it now.”

“Absolutely.” Damon raised his bottle. “To Cabin Number Four and the success of Thunder Mountain Academy.”

“Hear, hear!” Herb lifted his bottle, and everyone else on the porch did the same.

After they’d all taken a drink, Damon leaned forward so he could see around Phil. “Catch me up on what’s been going on. Cade said the contributions weren’t coming in as fast as we need them to.”

“They’ll pick up,” Herb said. “It’s only July, and we have until September first to raise the money.”

Phil had only recently learned how crowdfunding worked. “It still doesn’t seem fair to me that you either meet the goal or all the money goes back to the contributors. Isn’t there any wiggle room on that?”

“Not really.” Rosie was looking much better these days. The color had returned to her face, and she’d resumed her regular trips to the beauty salon to have her silver roots tinted their original blond. “That’s the way we set it up. A flexible deadline makes us look as if we’re not sure the project will succeed. It’s better if you state the amount you need and you either get it and the project is funded, or you don’t and the money’s all returned.”

“There’s a risk factor.” Herb looked at Phil. “But that’s true of anything. You took a risk moving here from Cheyenne to open Phil’s Home Repair.”

“I guess so.” But if she’d failed, no one else would have suffered. If the Kickstarter program for Thunder Mountain Academy failed, the ranch would be sold. Herb and Rosie would lose the place they loved, and so would all the foster boys who had been sheltered here.

“It’s going to work,” Damon said. “I feel it in my bones. We have so many elements to offer kids who are considering a career with horses—equine vet experience from Dad, a riding program designed by Lexi, saddle making taught by Molly’s husband, Ben, and horse training taught by our favorite singing cowboy.”

“Don’t make fun,” Cade said.

“I’m not! Rosie said you tamed that black gelding of yours by singing to him.” Damon turned to Phil. “Did you hear about that?”

“I did.”

Cade sipped his beer. “It makes a good story, but it wasn’t quite that simple.”

“Maybe not, but I couldn’t have done it.” Damon glanced over at Phil again. “See, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. If I tried singing to a horse he’d likely buck me off and then trample me to shut me up.”

She laughed. “I doubt it’s that bad.”

“No, he’s right,” Cade said. “He’s terrible. But lucky for you, bro, Hematite is gentle enough now that you can ride him without singing.”

“You’ll let me ride him?”

“I will if you’re nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

Of course he had to say it in that low, sexy voice of his. Phil resisted the urge to fan herself. He might not be a good singer, but she had no trouble imagining that husky voice murmuring to her as they made long, slow love in her refinished sleigh bed. Oh, he’d be nice, all right. Very nice.

And for once, she wouldn’t have to worry about a man being intimidated by the evidence of her construction skills. Damon might appreciate the effort she’d put into her home. She’d have fun showing it off to someone who understood how many hours she’d spent on it.

But in order to do that, she’d have to invite him there. And she knew as sure as her name was Philomena Hermione Turner that once she had that man in her house, she would eventually have him in her bed. So before she issued her invitation, she’d better be damned sure that was what she wanted.