She’d been startled to walk outside and find him standing there looking all masculine and intriguing... Why did she keep thinking of him like that? Since the fire—since Tim’s betrayal—she’d been around men, some even more handsome than Rowdy McDermott. But she’d not given them a second thought, other than to acknowledge that she was done with men. When a woman learned she’d been married to the poster boy for extramarital affairs, those scars weren’t easy to heal.
Why, then, had she thought about her new neighbor off and on ever since he’d left the day before?
Maddeningly, he’d been the last thought she’d had going to bed and the first upon waking. Swearing off men had suited her. She swung the sledgehammer again, feeling the point of impact with a deep satisfaction. God forgive her, but she knew visualizing Tim every time she swung was not a good thing. Yet it was the best satisfaction she’d had since that woman had walked into her hospital room and exposed the lie Lucy’s life had been.
Lucy swung again, harder this time. Her hands hurt with the jarring impact as the hammerhead met the solid stud.
No. She did not appreciate the cowboy showing up and causing her to realize just how much she longed to be able to trust someone. And why was it exactly that Rowdy McDermott had her thinking about trust?
She would never trust a man again.
“Well, I guess that answers my question.”
Lucy jumped, so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Rowdy come into the room.
The humor in his voice was unmistakable.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped. She hadn’t really expected walking away from him would make him leave. So it really didn’t surprise her that he’d followed her inside. After all, he had already proved he was nosy.
“You don’t like walls. And you need help.”
Of all the nerve. “If you must know, I planned to hire help.” She yanked off her protective eyewear with one hand and set the sledgehammer against the wall—getting the thing out of her hand might be the smartest thing. “And again, if you must know, I was enjoying myself too much to do it.”
He’d stopped smiling at her angry outburst, looking a little shocked. Now that infuriatingly cocky grin spread again across his features, like a man who knows he’s charming.
Well, he wasn’t to her.
“Stop that,” she blurted out. His grin deepened and his eyes crinkled at the edges. He was fighting off laughter—at her!
“So you’re angry with someone, and knocking out walls satisfies a need inside of you. I get it now. For a little thing, you really do have a lot of anger issues.”
Her jaw dropped and she gasped. “Of all the—”
“How about if I help you out?”
“Do what?” The man had pegged her motives somewhat correctly at first guess. Yet if he only knew of the anger issues buried so far back inside her, he would not be grinning at her like that.
“Hire me—I’m cheap and will work just to watch the fireworks. You put on one entertainingly explosive show.”
“This is outrageous,” she huffed. Crossing her arms, she shot daggers at him—he’d think explosive. “I bet you don’t get many dates, do you?”