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Bold(6)

By:Mackenzie McKade


“I didn’t until last night.”

So that’s why he left Hauk’s so early. “Sure. I’d love to see them.” The man was meticulous, something else she loved about him.

From his back jeans pocket he extracted a set of plans and placed them atop the plywood. Plucking a tape measure off his utility belt, he placed the weight on one edge of the vellum, spreading it out before laying the hammer on the other end to keep the paper from rolling.

“Is this what you were thinking?” he asked.

“Yes!” Chills raced across her arms beneath the light hoodie she wore as she stared at the exterior of a late medieval Tudor cottage with a steep gable roof and a porch. She turned the page, admiring the different views, skimming over the simple floor plan. “Reece, this is exactly how I imagined it. How could you have known?”

His eyes darkened. “I know how you think.”

Taken aback, she cocked her head. “No you don’t.” He couldn’t possibly or she would be in utter embarrassment every time she was around him.

Clearing his throat, he stepped away from her. “You’re a romantic—a daydreamer, Tabby.” He pressed the hammer into her palm, her fingers curling around the cool metal. For a moment he just stared at her, then eased farther away. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Oh, she needed something all right. His body pressed tight to hers for a start. But instead of speaking her deepest, darkest desires, she said, “Wait! The thatch roof. It’s just the right touch, but where are we going to get the materials?” It was the little details in a project that made it come to life. There was nothing like taking a white-walled empty room and transforming it into something magical.

“About a week ago I saw some thatch lying around the Talismans’ yard. Evidently Mrs. Talisman purchased it before speaking to her husband. After hearing what a fire hazard the material is, she agreed to tile for their new gazebo. They donated the roofing to the festival.”

“Thank you, Reece.”

He nudged her chin up with a single finger. For a moment she thought he would lean down and kiss her. Instead, he released her and took a step backward, before saying, “You’re welcome.”

As he turned and walked away, she allowed herself the freedom to really appreciate his physique, especially his sexy tight butt. Reece looked yummy in low-slung jeans. His long legs, firm thighs, and that perfect ass warmed her all over, made her pulse race. What would it feel like beneath her hands?

The racy thought vanished when her brother hollered her name. He frowned, approaching on determined footsteps.

“Dammit, Tabs, you have to stop looking at Reece like that. He doesn’t think of you in that way. You’re like a sister to him.”

Ouch. That stung. But the truth was, no matter what Devon thought, she and Reece were not siblings.

She tore her eyes from Devon, choosing to ignore him. Instead, she placed the claw of the hammer beneath the head of a bent nail and pulled down on the handle, wrenching the nail out. Metal against wood screeched, raking across her nerves as much as her brother’s words.

“Tabs?”

“I’m busy here.” She focused on the next silver disc protruding from the plywood.

Devon shadowed her for a little longer before he gave up, pivoting and walking away. When his footsteps disappeared, she paused.

Could her brother be right? Maybe Reece would never consider her as more than the little tomboy who used to follow him around. But maybe in time he would. That small sliver of hope was what she held on to as she settled in and got busy. One thing she’d learned early in life, anything worth having was worth working for.

Reece McGrath was definitely worth the time and effort.

After two hours, she had a nice pile of crooked and twisted nails, several splinters and scraped knuckles, and an assortment of blisters starting to rise. Stretching her aching back, she stood up and flexed her fingers, working out the cramps. It had been a long time since she had done anything physical like this. The last couple of years she’d spent in a classroom. As much as she cherished her desired career, school wasn’t for her. She had been homesick. When she heard Reece had returned from Las Vegas after being on a jobsite for six months, the decision to quit school had been easy.

“Dammit, Tabby.”

So caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t seen Reece approach. He grabbed her hands, staring at her injured fingers, and then he flipped them over, palms up, frowning harder at the redness and swelling. “Why didn’t you stop before now?”

Oh God. If she leaned forward the slightest bit, their bodies would be touching, hips to hips, chest to chest, and mouth to mouth.