Hunks, Hammers, and Happily Ever Afters (54 page)

Or how much I didn’t want to go out tonight.

Or how I was going to make it through the day dead on my feet. At least Wade had to work tonight. I snorted into my cup, then quickly finished my breakfast and headed out the door before I was late.

Other than stopping to talk drywall progress during their afternoon break, we didn’t speak until it was nearly my quitting time. And surprisingly he didn’t put off any of those bristly angry-man vibes like he’d done on Tuesday.

"At this rate, y’all might finish up tomorrow." I slid onto the tailgate of his truck and swung my legs. Fatigue weighed me down nearly as much as the heat and humidity did. Hal stood on the steps of the construction trailer watching us.

"I don’t think I’m gonna make it," he murmured with a tired sigh. "But yeah, we should finish hanging the sheetrock tomorrow."

We both laughed softly. Thankfully, no one was within hearing distance.

"If you do, I’ll cook dinner Sunday to celebrate."

"Fuck that. We’re going out."

"I thought we were staying in?"

"How about a movie and popcorn instead?"

"How about you rent movies and bring them over?"

"I’ve got a great porno collection."

Snorting softly, I slipped off the tailgate and smoothed my jeans down with my hands.

"We need to talk...about this morning," he added before I could say anything.

"Yeah, we do."

"How late is your crew working tonight?" Hal stepped off the porch and headed our way, reminding me that I had no business flirting or making plans with Wade on the clock.

Then again, I had no business fooling around with him in the first place.

"’Til the sun’s gone—eight or so."

"I need to get going," I said, "but remember, I’ll have my phone on if y’all need anything."

"Will do," Wade said with a nod.

"I’m sure he’ll holler if he needs anything," Hal muttered snidely.

Ignoring him, I headed for the trailer to get my stuff and call it a day. By the time I stepped back outside Hal’s truck was gone. Apparently, he’d slipped out early to get his nightly beer fix.

Wade motioned me over to the building’s entrance. From inside I could hear the nail guns going non-stop as his men worked to finish up. "Behave yourself tonight. No seducing men in the VIP lounge."

"Just because I took you home doesn’t mean I take just anyone home."

"I did wonder."

"You aren’t going to get all jealous and clingy on me, are you?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, but I didn’t appreciate him questioning my morals. Those were mine to live or die by, not his.

"Should I?"

"Remember when I said you weren’t worth my job? I wasn’t kidding, and this week I came this close—" I held my thumb and forefinger together just inches from his nose, "—to losing my job."

"Don’t blame me because you’ve got an exhibitionist streak."

"I’m not, but I’m not the only one.” I gave him a pointed look. “And I don’t think this is going to work. I’m sorry." And I truly
was
sorry. I liked Wade, a lot. Regret at my decision weighed me down, but I didn’t see where we had any other choice.

He sighed and offered up a last-ditch save. "No more sex at work, I swear."

"I don’t know if that’s enough for me." I needed my job, more than I needed him. If I had no job, I had nothing. Going back to Washington State,
home
, with my tail between my legs, was not an option.

"Is it the blue collar thing?" He offered me a smile that could only be called sad and for a minute, I softened.

"No, silly. The whole point of going to Jimmy’s is about being around men who don’t resent us because they have to take orders from us—women."

"So what do you want?"

Famous last words.
"I think, in this case, what I want and what I’m gonna have aren’t the same thing. I want you to be my lover—I just don’t see how that’s possible."

CHAPTER EIGHT

As soon as I got out of the parking lot, I pulled out my cell phone and hit auto-dial for Carlotta.

"’H’lo?" She sounded like she’d been crying—which wasn’t very Carlotta-like at all.

"Girl, are you okay?"

"I’m fine," she said, sniffling.

I pulled the phone away and stared at it before putting it to my ear again. "Meet me for dinner at Casa Grande, and call Lanie pretty please." I hung up, not waiting for a response, and forced myself to focus on the Friday rush-hour traffic.

I pulled into my driveway and killed the truck’s engine, and then sat there listening to the soft tick of the engine cooling. I eased out of the truck and inside the house, grabbed myself a beer, and headed for the bath. Unlike last week, this one was a quick utilitarian shave and wash with no time or desire for playing. I was even more tired than I’d been last Friday. And if I stayed in the tub too long, there was a good chance I’d doze off.

I’d barely dried myself off when a knock at the door had me groaning in frustration.

"Hello, hello," two voices chorused from the entryway. Either Carlotta or Lanie had used their key. "We brought wine and pizza!"

"Are we staying in?" I stuck my head into the hall while tying my robe at my waist.

"You look like shit." Carlotta pursed her lips and frowned at me.

"Can I cancel tonight?" I asked hopeful.

"No!" Lanie wagged a finger at me and shook her head.

"How the hell did y’all get cleaned up so fast, and don’t you have a date tonight, Lanie?"

"I quit my job." Carlotta shook the pizza box with a triumphant grin.

"And she shanghaied me out from under a Volvo. I had two mechanics quit this week." Lanie added with a scowl, "I’m never going to get caught up."

"Let me get dressed." I turned back toward my bedroom not at all surprised when Carlotta followed with the pizza. My stomach rumbled as the spicy scent of tomato sauce and sausage filled the bedroom.

By the time Lanie reappeared, carrying paper plates and cups for the wine, I’d finished drying myself off and had slipped into some underwear. Eyeing the both of them clad in jeans, I pulled my second-best pair of jeans off a hanger. Then dove back in for a shirt, yanking a chocolate brown, crotched halter over my head.

"So, I dumped Wade and you quit your job." I collapsed on the bed across from the both of them and fished a piece of veggie pizza out of the box. "I thought you were just planning to give notice?"

"I was." Carlotta handed me a paper cup half-full of wine. Her smile didn’t do much to hide the tight lines of tension around her eyes. "But Chambers lit into me and I let him have it. Now I have a two week vacation before I start my new job."

"And you didn’t say anything because?" Lanie asked from her position at my feet.

"I was afraid it wouldn’t pan out. It’s for a company that works with new home builders doing wiring for communications, home theaters, and security systems. High dollar homes with high dollar pay."

"Like there’s any such thing as a cheap home in Houston," I said with a grin. "I’m proud of you for leaving that shit factory behind. So what about the Geek-Meister?"

"At least he won’t be sending me flowers at work anymore."

"You didn’t tell him you quit?"

"Nope, now what’s this about you dumping Wade?"

"Yeah, and hurry up. I gotta date."

"Bitch!" Laughing, I kicked Lanie and nearly sent her sprawling on the floor. "What the hell are you gonna do with that Suit?"

"Fuck his brains out, I hope. Can’t have you taking my title of Queen Ho, now can I?"

While we polished off the last of the pizza and the cheap merlot, I filled them in on my conversation with Wade.

"Told’ja so!" Lanie lifted her cup and for just a moment, I considered kicking her off the bed on purpose.

By the time we arrived at Jimmy Z’s, the merlot and chit-chat had done its job—dragged my ass off the ceiling. We made our way through the crowded bar accompanied by the sound of the latest Top 40 hit. I offered up a grateful smile to Brian who’d left a small cardboard "Reserved" sign on our table. He knew us too well, appearing at our table with the first round of drinks before we’d even settled in.

"You’re late, ladies," he scolded with a good-natured smile that even Lanie couldn’t fail to return.

I double-checked to make sure my phone was on vibrate since I’d never hear it ring in here, and then took a sip of my Woo-Woo. The cold fruity drink slid down my throat and landed somewhere near my toes. Before I’d even gotten settled in or had a chance to check out the crowd, I found myself led out onto the dance floor by a swarthy hunk in a brightly striped designer shirt. He gave octopus’ a bad name, and I ditched him quick after spotting the blonde I’d danced with last weekend. I lost him in the crowd, then slipped up behind her with a smile. "I had to ditch a creep!"

"No prob." She raised her beer bottle and slipped an arm around my waist. "I’m Cherise, by the way."

"Lexi! Can I buy you a drink? Since you sorta rescued me."

After a stop at the bar, we headed back to the table with the girls. Cherise, it turns out, was bisexual like Queen Ho Lanie. Not that being bisexual made Lanie a ho—I attributed that to an old-school Irish father and four older brothers.

My cell phone vibrated in the middle of laughing my ass off to an especially bad joke Carlotta had dared to share with us. I jumped as it buzzed against my hipbone then unclipped it, frowning in the dim bar light. The readout listed Wade’s number, and yeah, for a minute,. I considered ignoring it, figuring he just wanted to talk. Then I thought better of it. "I’ll be back."

The girls nodded and I slid off my stool, purse in hand as I headed for the ladies room where I’d at least be able to hear. The door had no sooner closed behind me than my cell phone started ringing. "What happened?"

"A small accident, but I think you need to be here," Wade replied.

Rolling my eyes at the girl standing beside me fixing her lipstick, I said, "How small?"

"Remember those skateboarders?"

"Shit!" How could I forget them?

"About the time we were closing down for the night I heard screams. We didn’t hear them out there, Lexi, because of the nail guns and Ramon’s radio."

"It’s okay! How bad is he hurt?"

"I think it’s a broken leg. I left Ramon in charge of closing up, and I’m following the ambulance to Memorial."

"Call Dolan; I’ll meet you there!"

"Hal said not to."

"You called Hal?" I silently swore then swore again as I caught my reflection in the mirror. Moussed and sprayed hair, dark eyeliner and killer brown lips to match my brown halter top.

"He’s the Job Supervisor, Lexi."

"Fuck, Hal! Call Dolan, or better yet, call Junior. I’ll be there as soon as I can."

~*~

M
emorial Hospital was close enough to the club, I didn’t get much of a chance to worry how I was dressed or how I was going to deal with Hal as I zipped down the 610 Loop.

I frowned at Hal’s Ford as I crossed the parking lot in three-inch Jimmy Choos, preparing myself for the worst. Inside the ER was controlled chaos. I gave Wade’s name to the nurse at the desk, and she motioned to a hallway to her left while giving me a once over.
It’s Friday night lady, sue me!
Spending the night in the ER hadn’t been in my plans when I left the house.

I had no trouble spotting Wade still covered in sheetrock dust and plaster, or Hal, looming over him with a finger in his face. From behind a curtain I could hear soft moaning and the voices—some giving orders while others fretted. "How’s the kid? Did we contact his parents?"

Apparently, my strident voice did the trick, distracting Hal from whatever he’d been chewing Wade out about.

"Well lookie you! Dolan’s bitch. He with ya?" The smell of beer was strong, and I had serious doubts about the wisdom of Hal having driven here. He smelled as if the only place he needed to drive was between his sheets at home for a long sleep-it-off.

"If you have a problem with me or the instructions I gave Wade, you can take it up with me when you’re
sober
." I stood as far away as possible, smiling to myself as Wade stepped out of the line of fire. No way was he getting between two supervisors having a turf-war and that’s just what this was. "Now—" I turned to Wade, "—how’s the kid?"

"It’s definitely a broken leg. His parents got here right before you did—"

"You didn’t have any business calling Junior." Hal gave my shoulder a firm nudge, demanding my attention.

"I had all the business in the world–"

"We all know how much you like telling men what to do. Bossy-ass bitch." Hal leered at me. An ugly sight even at the best of times, but I refused to back down and propped my hands on my hips, stepping closer despite my protesting stomach.

"
I
do my job. And part of my job is keeping the Senior Project Manager apprised of safety problems."

"They don’t want safety; they want results—"

"—That’s what you think." By this time we were shouting while Wade hovered somewhere nearby.

"—That’s what I
know
."

"The only reason Dolan promoted you is ‘cause you got balls on your chest instead between your legs where they belong." He grabbed his own and gave them a shake for emphasis.

"You’re just pissed ‘cause deep down inside you know I’ll make Project Manager while you’ll spend the rest of your days supervising a crew." I stuck my finger in the middle of his chest for emphases. "And
I
get the job done."

From behind me came the sound of Wade choking on a laugh, but I didn’t dare look at him or I’d bust out laughing, too.

"What the hell’s that supposed to mean?

"It means you couldn’t get the job done if it came with directions written in single syllable words." I gave him a scornful once-over. "You’re an incompetent drunk, and Dolan should have fired you a hell of a long time ago. Probably only keeps you around—"

Hal lunged, his meaty paw landing somewhere in the vicinity of my chest with enough force to take me down in my three inch heels. Suddenly Wade
was
there between us, dragging me out of harm’s way and helping me stay on my feet while two EMT’s who’d appeared from behind the curtained-off room, kept a firm grip on Hal.