Southern Exposure (Southern Desires Series Book 2) (2 page)

Mark didn’t need her permission to bang in nails; they were raised so high they would be considered a trip hazard.
I’ll fix these then I’m out.

Leaving the shade of the porch, he walked to his Jeep, pulled off his already drenched T-shirt and threw it inside on the driver’s seat.
I’ve been in worse situations. Much worse.
There were places he’d seen that’d make hell seem like a walk in the park. Despite the oppressive heat, Savannah was a beautiful city. He could understand why people would want to live there and raise a family.

Mark walked to the back of his beat-up Jeep, lifted the hatch, opened the cooler, and pulled out a cold bottle of water. Drinking half, he poured the remainder over his head. When he wasn’t on duty, he let his hair and beard grow civilian to look less obvious and avoid questions he wasn’t going to answer.
At least, not honestly
. Lying was a job requirement. No one truly knew where he was or what he did. Not even those closest to him, a fact he was simply used to after years in the Navy Special Forces.

As he faced the house, he could picture what it must’ve looked like when it was well maintained. The massive white Georgian Colonial must have been a single family home. It was two-stories tall, each level with a huge porch held up by tall wooden columns, and made for entertaining. Now you’d build a deck instead. Back home they had nothing compared to this fine piece of architecture.
Of course in Buffalo, the Snowbelt from hell, there’s a good part of the year no one in his right mind stands outside on a porch.
The snow back home appealed to him less the more time he spent in hot deserts overseas. It wasn’t that his body had adapted to the heat; he just hated the cold more.

Hannah had said the house had been converted to four apartments, one of them hers. Whoever had taken on that renovation must’ve invested a lot of time and money. Renovating old homes sometimes had a domino effect.
Fix one thing and watch the rest fall apart.
It had lost its luster and looked neglected.
Give me a few months and I could work some magic here.
Home remolding wasn’t his job; it was a hobby, a distraction. There were times he needed the work more than the homeowner needed him.
Thankfully this wasn’t one of those times.

Their last deployment had been in and out without issue or casualty. Just the way they liked it. But sometimes he relished and welcomed the simplicity of building, painting, or whatever the job required of him. Otherwise he might have suffered terribly from the night terrors associated with war. He knew the importance of keeping so busy he had no time to think. Work so hard you pass out, too tired to dream.

He reminded himself that all he’d seen so far was the outside of the apartment house. None of what he saw was on the to-do list Hannah had texted him.
If she considers this in good shape, I can only imagine what the rest of the place looks like.

Mark grabbed his tool belt and headed for the porch. Even though she didn’t feel the need to show up on time, he didn’t plan on sitting there doing nothing all afternoon. Not when there were so many repairs staring him in the face, waiting to be done.
I’ve come all this way. Might as well accomplish something.

The wood hadn’t rotted away, and he was able to bang in the loose nails and reinforce the railing that was about to topple over. As he looked over his handy work, he knew it was only a start to what looked like a major renovation.
Maybe I should call for reinforcements on this assignment.

The first couple times he went on the road he’d traveled light, sometimes only with a change of clothes. He honestly hadn’t been looking for work back then, just a diversion. But over the last few years, he’d sought out people who needed a helping hand. He never had to look far, as times were tough and many had their hands out. That’s when he learned to travel prepared for almost anything. Not only did he have most tools to handle basic repairs, but also his duffle bag packed and ready in case he got the call. Usually, he made it back to the base first, but over the past year that hadn’t always been possible. Most assignments had been overseas, but trouble was now hitting closer to home than anyone wanted to admit. He and his team needed to be ready at a moment’s notice. On more than one occasion he’d had no choice but to leave a homeowner high and dry in the middle of a remodel without any explanation. He’d received many irate text messages from them without being able to defend his actions.
All par for the course.

He wasn’t worried about Hannah being pissed at him.
Hell, she can’t even remember how to tell time, never mind noticing if I disappear.

As he put his tools back in the Jeep, a yellow Volkswagen convertible pulled up beside him with a country love song blaring. He didn’t need to look to know the driver was young. There was no way this was Hannah. She was Sissie’s cousin and probably around her age.

A woman wearing a light blue and white polka-dotted vintage dress got out of the car and walked over to him. The dress hugged her torso—
and perfect full breasts
—like a glove. It wasn’t the heat of the day getting him hot at the moment. He normally had more couth than to stare, but damn, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Even the flared skirt, leaving her hips to his imagination, enticed him. It hadn’t been that long since he’d had a woman, but his body was reacting like it had been years.

His eyes finally made their way back to her face.
Stunning
. Golden-blonde long, loose curls hung sweetly, enhancing her already young, innocent look. As his eyes met her deep green eyes, he was drawn to her even more.
Beautiful, but dangerous as hell.

“Excuse me, sir, can I help you with something?”

She even had the voice of an angel. Whoever this woman was, she needed to go before he forgot he was a gentleman, never mind here to do a job.

“Nope. I’m here to work, and you’re definitely not dressed to assist.”
Hinder? Yes. Help? No.
With her close by, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hit a nail on the head. His eyes roamed her body from head to toe. Maybe his last few deployments were longer than most, but there was nothing he didn’t find appealing about her.

If he thought he was making her uncomfortable, he was mistaken. Those inquisitive eyes of hers roamed up and down his body as though he was a prized bull.
Keep looking at me like that, young lady, and we’re going to have an issue. A sweet, delicious issue.

“Laaawdy. Sissie just became my favorite cousin.” Until then he hadn’t noticed her southern accent.

Mark had been referred to this job by Sissie. But she was much older than this young thing. She looked to be in her early twenties, which freaked him out with the thoughts running through his mind. It had to be her mother he was here to meet, not her.
Please, not her.

“I think I’m here to meet your mother,” Mark said as he pulled a clean T-shirt out of his bag and pulled it over his head. She never took her eyes off him.
Don’t tempt me to pull you into my arms and test how sweet and innocent you really are. Damn. I don’t know if I want her sweet or hot and wild. Either way, she’s one person I need to keep at a distance.

“Well, sorry to inform you, but you’re twenty-eight years too late.” He arched a brow, and she continued. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me.”

Oh hell.
“What about your father?”

“He passed away last year.”

Oh double hell. Foot in the mouth issue, Collins? That’s not usually a problem you suffer from. Fucking snap out of it.

Although she was trying to cover up the pain and extend her southern warm welcome, it was shining through her eyes. Mark watched her closely. Reading people was part of his job. What was it she wasn’t saying? The hurt seemed to include more than just losing both her parents, although that must have been hard enough. Something she didn’t want anyone to see. That only made him more curious. When things seemed odd, he made it his mission to find the answer. Nothing was as simple as it seemed to be, and that’s exactly what he thought looking at her.

Mark reminded himself he was here for one reason only: to handle household repairs. Anything beyond that was off limits. And with how she looked at him, he knew it was already going to be difficult.

“I’m working for you? You’re Hannah?” he asked even though he knew the answer. He just didn’t like it.

“In the flesh and blood,” she replied sweetly, with a teasing roll of her shoulders.

Damn. I should’ve left when I had the chance. As soon as she was late, that Jeep should’ve headed back to Buffalo. She would only be one thing—a complication. And I never have and never will allow any of those in my life. Don’t need them.
The day Sissie told him about her cousin she’d played it off that Hannah was frail and older. It’d been a long time since anyone had been able to pull one on him. He had to give it to her. She was good. Mark had two options: ignore the lovely in front of him and do the job, or walk away and let her find someone more suitable.

He reached out a hand and said, “I’m Mark Collins, your contractor for the next month or so.”

She placed her delicate hand in his. It was cool and soft against his rough one. “Welcome, I’m Hannah Entwistle, the lucky person who has inherited this monstrosity of a home, and it looks like you’re the lucky man who’ll make it shine again.”

Shine? How about we strive for sturdy?
“Let’s see what we’re working with before you get your hopes up.” Mark already knew he wasn’t the right person for this job. If the exterior was any indication of what the interior looked like, this was going to need a crew, not one handyman, to whip it back into shape. He couldn’t even guarantee how long he was going to be on the job.

“Why don’t you come on in, and I’ll show you where you can put your things while you’re here.”

Mark thought she’d apologize for keeping him waiting so long out in the heat, but not one word. Could she really be that clueless? He’d been waiting almost two hours for her. He was so punctual that it drove people crazy. He didn’t expect everyone to feel the same as him, but this was ridiculous. “Do you know what time it is?”

He stood there amazed at how carefree she was as she answered. “Nope, but I know it’s Saturday. A stress-free day.”

Glad one of us isn’t stressed.

“You know I lost an entire day’s work already.”

“And you’re going to lose another one tomorrow. We don’t work on weekends. Things around here are much more relaxed.”

And there is the answer why the house looks like it does.
He wasn’t looking forward to sitting around for a second day. All he needed was to see what had to be fixed, and he’d make his own schedule, weekends included.

Hannah turned and headed to the house.

“Where are we going?” Mark asked, still standing by his Jeep.

She turned back and said, “My apartment. I have a guest room ready for you.”

There is no way she’s inviting a perfect stranger into her house. She should check my ID, confirm that I am who I say I am. If this was Casey, I’d have—
Who was he fooling? Casey had become stubborn. When she was young, she’d listen to his voice of reason. Not any longer.
Maybe Derrick will have better luck.

He didn’t know why his temper was soaring, but he couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“How naïve are you?” His tone was harsh. “You met me less than five minutes ago, and you’re inviting me into your home? Not only that, you’re actually considering letting me stay in your apartment?” She knew nothing about him except that her cousin Sissie sent him. “I could be anyone with less-than-honorable intentions just waiting for the opportunity to get you alone so I could—”

“Are you?” Her voice was calm and soft.

“Am I what?” Mark snapped at her.

“A creep or a pervert waiting to hurt me?” she asked with her hands on her hips. There was no hint she was joking, but he was tempted to laugh. What person would actually admit it?
You are that naïve.

“No.”

“Well, then what is the problem?”

There was no making her see any differently at this point.
Oh, you sweet girl. You truly have no clue, do you? Looks like there is a lot more work to be done here than just repairing an old rundown house.
“None I guess.”

He reached in the Jeep, grabbed his duffle bag, and went to stand by her on the porch.
You’re lucky I took an oath to serve and protect.

Hannah’s heart was pounding even though she refused to let it show. Sissie hadn’t said what Mark looked like. If anything she played it off like he was an older retired gentleman who did this work for fun.
Not even close, Sissie. Unless she’s recently become blind, which I don’t think happened, then she’s up to something.

Mark seemed to want to hide his good looks under a mass of unruly hair and a beard that needed a trim. But when she pulled up and found him shirtless, she almost melted. Every muscle was cut and defined, begging her to trace them with her fingers.

Slow down, girl. This man is not here to get ogled. He’s here for work.
Hannah needed to stay focused. There was so much work to be done, and she had limited funds. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mark was willing to work for peanuts, she knew it was only a matter of time before this old house began falling down around her.
Here to work, no distracting him.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy the view as he worked.