The Fix (Carolina Connections #1) (7 page)

With
that, he turned around and headed toward the cab of the truck. And, dammit to
hell, I couldn’t help but take in the view from the back with a little bit of
“bow chicka wow wow” echoing in my head. Thoroughly disgusted with my girl
parts for turning to the dark side, I returned my gaze to Charlotte.

Her
jaw hung open and she looked like she might cry. A surge of protectiveness
washed over me and (mostly) over-ruled my baser feelings. She was a nice person
– she didn’t deserve to be yelled at by that, that big fat sexy jerk! She was
friendly and cared about her kid and invited strangers like us to her house for
playdates and just wanted to keep everybody safe! Sure, her son may or may not
be a future serial killer, but everyone has flaws. What right did this guy have
to berate her for asking a simple question? No way, you rude, arrogant,
insulting, too tight t-shirt wearing
dickhead
– Laney Monroe has a bone
to pick with you.

“Hey!”
I yelled out to his retreating, sexy-as-hell back. “Nate, or whatever the hell
your name is! You get back here and apologize to her. That was totally uncalled
for!” My fists found purchase on my hips and I prepared for a fight.

“I’m
sorry,” Mark, looking not so cocky anymore, tried to interject, but the bell
had rung on his bout. It was time for the heavyweight round. I shot him a look
that silenced him so I knew it had communicated my message perfectly.

Nate
was back. “Lady, I don’t have time for this. Doug has already told your friend
by phone to contact the zoning board if you all have a problem. They permitted
us to put this building here and as long as we follow all the rules set out by
them, the city, and the inspector – which we will – this is
not my problem!
”
He brought his face closer and ripped off his sunglasses revealing brilliant
blue eyes that were frosted over with disdain. “Look, it will probably end up being
a nice little salon so you and all your friends can sit and get your nails done
and have a little gossip session where you can denigrate my character all you
want.
I don’t care
. Now, if it’s alright with you, I think I’ll get back
to work.”

“What
in the hell is going on here?!” came a loud and very,
very
familiar
voice from behind me.

Well,
shit.

I
looked over my shoulder to find Gavin looking completely perplexed and Rocco
riding on his shoulders, both hands grasping Gavin’s ears like handles. But
even the sight of my two guys couldn’t stop the raging storm brewing in
response to this absolute prick in front of me. It was
on
.

Getting Creative

Nate

“I
got this, Gav!” the ball of indignant fury in front of me called over her
shoulder to – wait, wasn’t that the new kid?
What was going on here?

Why
did I even bother getting out of bed this morning?

I
should have known the day would be crap-tastic from the moment I woke up.

I’d
accidentally left my phone, which doubles as my alarm clock, in the kitchen
last night so I missed my alarm and, by default, my morning run. I need my
morning run to clear my head and make a game plan for my day. I think better,
feel better, and probably behave better if I get to run first thing.

And
not only did I miss my alarm, I also missed half a dozen phone calls from work.
The freaking siding we were supposed to install at the apartment project today had
arrived late yesterday and nobody noticed until early this morning that it was
the wrong kind. Mark called first thing with that one. It was unclear if the
error came from the manufacturer or from our end, which would make it even more
complicated, but either way it left us with half a crew spending the day with
their thumbs up their asses while we fell behind schedule and bled money. Not
ideal.

I
made a few more calls and we were able to shuffle some things around but we
were still going to be running behind until we got the right siding and who the
hell knew when that would be?

And
behind all of that was the nagging fear that somebody would slip up and tell my
father about it, and that would bring on a whole new shit storm coming from
both him and my mom. Good Christ, I felt like chucking it all and catching the
first flight back to Texas. This day was like screwing a skunk – it had hardly
even started and I’d already had enough.

Mark,
Doug and I decided to touch base in person at the Old Oak Ridge site where Doug
and I were planning on starting our day anyway. So, without time for coffee,
breakfast, or my run, I’d taken the fastest shower known to man and headed over
there. Suffice it to say, I was not in a receptive mood for any more bullshit
when I’d arrived.

Enter
the amateur pageant queen and her friend. Her smoking, fuck-hot friend with
glossy dark hair halfway down to her ass and intense light grey eyes that lit
my dick on fire. Not to mention the rest of the package. To say I am a tits and
ass kind of guy is like saying the Cookie Monster has a vague fondness for
sweets. And,
goddamn
, did this girl have some T and A. She had a little
bit of that Christina Hendricks thing from
Mad Men
going on. And she was
serving up the attitude to go with it. Maybe Texas was a bad idea after all.

I
knew I was being a total dick, and I’m sure my hot little friend and her
red-headed neighbor didn’t deserve it, but I couldn’t help myself. The crew was
almost here and I had just gotten off the phone with the siding company – they were
estimating another two weeks before they could get the right order in. That was
a shit-ton of money and time and I didn’t have the patience to deal with these
neighborhood people who were wasting my time with shit that wasn’t even going
to be an issue for months, if ever. So I released the asshole on them.

Sue
me and then get me a coffee.

But
it looked like this girl was just getting started and now I was finding out she
was somehow involved with one of my crew? What the fuck was going on with this
day?

Her
eyes blazed into mine and I could see her draw in a deep breath in preparation
for whatever was about to come. It was impossible to ignore the rise of her
perfect breasts and I caught just a glimpse of black lace at the vee of her red
shirt from my elevated vantage point. It almost made me want to be cooperative.
Almost.

“Listen
here, you misogynistic prick.”

Contrary
to everything I’m sure I was expected to feel at this point, my dick rose to
attention (‘You called?’ it said).

“You
can’t stand here making your half-assed assumptions and treating us like we’re
some brainless little fairies flitting around all day with nothing better to do
than take a crap on you and your macho man bullshit.”

Yup,
still sporting wood.

“We
are all home owners on this street who have a right to know what is happening
in our neighborhood.”

She
wagged her index finger in my face and I wanted to bite it.

“We
take the safety of our children and families very seriously, as well as the
value of our homes in which we have invested our hard earned money –”

God,
she was in my face now and I could see the dark ring around her flinty gray
irises. Would they be the same shade when she was under me?

“Money
we’ve made doing
real work
the same way you do and I will not stand here
and let you treat us like we are somehow less than you and your precious crew
while you wave all of your big muscles around and beat your chest!”

Big
muscles?
Now we were getting somewhere.

“Now,”
she commanded, “you will apologize to Charlotte for jumping down her throat and
you will address our concerns in a tone that smacks a little less of arrogant
dickhead.”

If
I didn’t get her out of here I was either gonna kiss her or drop down on my
knees and beg her to marry me so I had to find an exit strategy – fast.

“What
did you say your name was again?” I asked.

“Laney.”
Her right hand suddenly rose and cradled her cheek.

“Your
full name.”

She
swallowed. “Laney Monroe.”

“Monroe.”
I felt the name on my tongue and kept my eyes glued to hers. “She belong to
you, kid?” I yelled out to Gavin just so I could watch her eyes light up with
rage again. God, this girl was smoking.

“I
don’t
belong to
him
!” Her hand dropped and her voice exploded
with indignation. “God, you really are an asshole, aren’t you?”

There
was no arguing with that one at the moment.

With
that she turned and I got to watch the show as her perfect ass strutted away toward
Gavin and the kid on his shoulders.

“Come
on Charlotte. We’re done here!” To me, she shouted, “This is
not
over!”
And all four of them headed out. I continued to watch the show, noticing Gavin
glancing worriedly back at me a few times. He appeared to be arguing with her.
With
Laney
. I couldn’t blame him – that was the most fun I’d had in
weeks.

Ten
minutes later, with most of the crew in attendance I saw Gavin Monroe
approaching, this time without the little kid and the hot girl.

“Nate,
I am so sorry,” he began. “My sister can be a little hot-headed sometimes but I
talked to her and I promise she won’t be bothering you any more, I swear–”

“That’s
your
sister?
” I cut him off.

“I
know, right. She’s a pain in the ass.”

I
just nodded, not sure Gavin would appreciate anything I had to say about his
sister’s ass. “Don’t worry about it,” I threw back to him. “Go see Doug. We’ve
gotta get things moving here.”

And
I may have to carve out a little time in my schedule for a rematch with one
Laney Monroe.

***

 “No,
Mark, my dad is not going to want to collect electric trains as his new hobby. And
if you like your nuts where they are you’ll mind your own business and tell
Bailey to keep her gaping pie-hole shut from now on.” I said to the moron on
the other end of the line. Mark and I were pretty good buddies but sometimes I
seriously questioned his level of common sense.

It
was Friday evening and I was standing on Gavin Monroe’s front porch, having
gotten his address from his employee file and hoping to catch his sister at
home. I had yet to ring the bell when Mark called and I’d picked it up
assuming, who knows why, that he was calling about actual work. Turns out
Bailey had let him in on the search for Riordan Murphy’s new hobby and he
couldn’t resist getting in on the action.

“Why
not? I could get him one of those train engineer hats.” He guffawed.

“Two
things, Mark. One, you do know that even with a bum heart my dad could beat you
into the ground, right? And two, don’t even think of letting him or my mother get
the barest wind of this conversation. The goal is to lower his blood pressure,
not elevate it. And, besides, Bay and I are family so he can’t kill us. Just
think about where that leaves you.”

“You’re
no fun, man. I’m calling Bailey to swap ideas instead,” he complained.

See?
No common sense.
“You go right ahead, man, but don’t
come crying to me when he turns you into a eunuch. Later, Mark.”

“Later.”
He hung up and I turned to ring the doorbell.

However,
the door was already open.

“If
you’re looking for Gavin, he’s not here. He’s probably at Jake’s shooting pool.
You should try there – I hear it’s a pretty male-dominated crowd – hardly a
woman in sight so you should feel right at home.” Laney gave me a fake-ass
smile and started to close the door but I stopped it with my foot. Her expression
changed to a glare.

“Whoa,
hold on there. I’m actually here to see you.” She didn’t try to break my foot right
away so I continued, “I wanted to apologize.”

Her
look turned suspicious. “Apologize?”

“Yes.
You were right. I was an asshole.”

“And
have you directed this apology to Charlotte as well?” One hand went to her hip.

Oooh,
she’s a sharp one. “I will as soon as you give me her address. Can I come in
before the neighbors start calling the cops?”

After
a few moments she opened the door a touch. “I guess. But you have to act like a
normal person. I have company and my son is here.” Ah, so the little kid was
her
son, not Gavin’s. But she didn’t have a ring, I’d noted earlier. Still, I
reminded myself to tread carefully. She stepped aside and left the door open
for me. I followed her into the house and closed the door behind me. The door
knob fell off into my hand.
Huh?
I looked at her questioningly. She
looked at my hand.

“Oh
crap,” she said and grabbed the knob from my hand while pushing the door to
rest in a position that was mostly closed.

“You’re
worried about my building threatening your kid’s safety and your front door
doesn’t even close?” I couldn’t resist.

Her
hand shot to my mouth and covered it. “I thought you were here to apologize,” she
hissed.

I
was too distracted by the effect her touch had on me to respond. Her warm hand
stayed over my mouth a few seconds too long as her eyes rose to meet mine.

Could
she feel that too?
Apparently so, because the next second
her hand dropped like it had been burned and then both of her hands went to her
cheeks and started running up and down over the sweet little freckles I’d just
noticed.
Sweet little freckles? What am I now, a girl?

She
turned her back and hurried from the entryway. I couldn’t do anything but follow.

It
turns out we were headed into the kitchen where a very petite blond woman stood
at a stove that was older than dirt stirring something in a pot. The little boy
from yesterday, whom I now knew was Laney’s son, was sitting at a blue table
with a pile of Legos in front of him. He had on a gray t-shirt with a yellow
chick on it and sported the words “Chicks Dig Me”. Just under the sleeve of the
shirt I could see one of those stick-on tattoos but I couldn’t tell what is was
supposed to be. I liked this kid already. I could work with this.

“Nate,
this is my friend Fiona and my son Rocco.” Laney did the introductions, one
hand still holding her cheek.

Oh
shit
,
a thought suddenly occurred to me. Were these women a couple and this was their
son? I was usually so good at spotting signals and I could have sworn Laney was
into me, even if she didn’t want to be.

The
woman named Fiona whirled around suddenly, clearly not expecting a strange man
to appear in the kitchen. She looked me over and I can tell you she was not shy
about her head to toe perusal. I was beginning to feel a little violated she
was so thorough. Okay, so totally straight – that was a relief.

“Fiona,
Rocco, this is Gavin’s boss, Nate Murphy. Rocco, say hello to Mr. Murphy,”
Laney gently directed.

“Nate.
Nate’s fine. How’s it going Rocco?” I waved to the kid. “Nice tattoo. Did you
get that in prison? I’ll bet it kills with the ladies.”

Crickets.

“Five-year
olds don’t really get sarcasm,” said Fiona, leaning toward me and offering her
hand.

“Oh,”
I said stupidly as I took it. Fiona couldn’t have been more than about 5’4” and
she was wearing sky high heels so her actual height was probably closer to an
even five feet. She had blond hair and a tiny face to match her tiny body. She
was cute in a spunky kind of way, but was a complete contrast to her bombshell
of a friend.