Spitfire in Love

by Isabelle Ronin

  He had the look of an established and handsome man. He was probably in his early fifties, with a salt-and-pepper beard that was trimmed neatly and an old, faint scar running from his left eyebrow down to his cheek and stopping at his strong jaw. He was lanky but had a muscular build. His hair was swept back, and it was shockingly silver. He reminded me of a very attractive silver-haired fox.

  “Why, hello there.”

  “Good morning. Kara Hawthorne,” I said just as I heard Deb yell “It’s Kara!” from downstairs.

  His eyes lit with pleasure. He offered his hand. “I’m Rick. Pleasure to finally meet you, Kara. Have a seat, girl. You want something to drink?”

  He had a very calm demeanor. Automatically, my body relaxed. I sat.

  “I’m good. Thanks.”

  “So,” he started, sitting on the chair in front of me instead of the one behind the massive desk. “You came very highly recommended.”

  I did? I better ask Dylan who his friend was who had recommended me. Maybe I could give him a free oil change at the shop.

  “Just got a couple of questions.”

  Here we go.

  “You know how to answer the phone?”

  I stiffened. Was he being sarcastic? I narrowed my eyes at him. I hoped to God this wasn’t a prank or I’d go gorilla crazy on someone for wasting my time this morning.

  “I was born answering phones,” I said seriously.

  He leaned back in his chair, smiling widely.

  “Do you know how to use computers?”

  “Even in my sleep.”

  “Don’t tell Deb this, but this job isn’t really that hard.”

  “I heard that!” Deb screamed.

  “Sometimes you have to have a loud voice to be heard here, especially when you’re talking to the guys. Can you scream real loud?”

  Now I smiled. “Like a banshee.”

  “Perfect,” he said. He offered me an hourly rate and my eyes bugged out. It was a little more than I was expecting. “As you probably noticed,” he continued, grinning at my reaction, “we not only operate in construction, but also in the soil business. Makes it easier and saves us a lot of costs for landscaping.” His voice was raspy, as if he’d been smoking for a long time. “Technically, my construction company’s located in the city. We have another office there—a little spiffier than what we have here. But it’s more for clients than anything, really. I’m mostly here, and so I’d need you here too. Deb will tell you what you need to know. I’m not sure exactly how long she’ll be gone for, but she’ll let you know. Do you have any questions for me?”

  How long she’d be gone for. The job was temporary. For a few months at least—hopefully a year if Deb took all of her maternity leave. Canada gave more than a year for maternity leave for mothers if qualified, which I thought was amazing. She could also split the leave with her husband if they wished. Or she could go back to work too if she liked.

  I bit my lip, debating.

  “What say you, girl? Would you like to join us?” Rick asked.

  Suddenly, I heard someone coming up the steps. I turned around, and everything around me ceased to exist but for that one man approaching the landing.

  It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my heart, breaking it into pieces before it started beating again. I curled my hands into fists as everything blurred for one moment and then stood in painful clarity.

  Cameron entered the office, stopping dead in his tracks. His eyes zeroed in on me.

  “Kara?” Rick asked. “You want the job?” he repeated.

  I peeled my eyes away from Cameron. I stood up and offered Rick my hand. “I’ll take it.”

  Chapter 23

  Kara

  “I’ll take it,” I told Rick.

  I gritted my teeth, so painfully aware of Cameron standing behind me.

  The look of shock on his savagely beautiful face when he saw me had only lasted a moment before it shifted to yearning and need as he took me in. And then his walls came up and there was nothing.

  Rick shook my hand, grinning widely and looking very pleased with himself.

  “I’ll come back later,” Cameron said.

  His voice, deep, rich, and so darkly masculine, sent ripples down my spine. It had been three weeks since I’d last heard it…but it felt longer than that.

  “We’re done with the interview, boy. Take—”

  But Cameron was already halfway down the stairs. I heard Rick sigh, then he looked at me.

  I’m good. Just good. One hundred and one percent bomb-ass good.

  “Kara, could you get him for me?”

  What?

  My eyes shot to Rick. His were gleaming—with amusement or challenge, I wasn’t sure.

  “I need him to do something for me. That boy can move fast if he wants to, can’t he?”

  He sure did. He could move real slow too if he wanted. Not that I knew anything about that. Well, not anymore.

  I had been thinking of what I would say to him or how I would act when I saw him again. Or if I would even acknowledge his existence. I always came up with either blasting him with a cold shoulder or burning him with fire.

  I guess we’ll find out.

  I spun around, ready to run to the stairs to chase after him, when inspiration struck.

  I walked to the railing, placed my hands there. Taking a deep breath, I yelled at top of my lungs, “Hey, Bigfoot!”

  Everyone in the office stopped and stared up at me. I waved my hands and bared my teeth in a wide grin.

  Cameron was almost at the door when he stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned. And then our eyes met. If there was a pull I felt from his gaze, I mentally squished it with my heels.

  “Get your ass back up here!” I yelled again.

  When he looked like he wasn’t going to move, I added, “The boss wants you!”

  I left it at that.

  When I turned back to Rick, he was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Man, oh man. You are so hired,” he said. “You’re going to fit just fine here.”

  “We own an auto shop. I’ve been working with men all my life, so I don’t think you should worry about me fitting in.”

  “Is that right? If you don’t mind me asking, why do you need this job?”

  I didn’t bat an eye. I wondered why he hadn’t asked me important questions like this in the interview. Actually, he didn’t ask me anything at all. It was almost like I already had the job the moment he shook my hand. Either he was desperate to fill the position, or whoever recommended me was at the top of his trust list.

  “We’re only breaking even,” I told him honestly.

  I didn’t turn when I felt a presence behind me. Cameron. What the hell? I didn’t even hear him climb up the stairs. How did he do that?

  With his massive size, you’d think he’d be clumsy or walk with dumb, heavy footsteps. Not a chance. He moved with catlike grace and stealth, sneaking up on me without warning. I should trip him next time.

  “Cam,” Rick said.

  Cameron didn’t say anything, just stood somewhere behind me, waiting.

  “Son, why don’t you show Kara around the property?”

  My head jerked up. Is this man up to something? Does he know about me and Cameron?

  I couldn’t see Cameron having a heart-to-heart talk with anyone, but what did I know? I didn’t know him well enough to assume anything. In fact, I didn’t know him at all. Maybe he was more open to Rick. I wondered who he was in Cameron’s life.

  You don’t want anything to do with him anymore, remember? Move on, sis.

  “Introduce her to the guys. Get her a hard hat,” he said and grabbed his own from the desk and put it on. “Have you decided on that big project you were telling me about?”

  “Still thinking about it. I would
need your help with it if I take it on.”

  “Always here for you, Son. Just let me know.”

  Son?

  This was Cameron’s dad? But their last names were different, although having different last names didn’t necessarily indicate nonrelation. They didn’t look alike at all though, except for their height. Even then, Cameron was a tad taller. So maybe Rick just liked to call him that. What did it even matter? Ugh.

  What kind of bad stinking luck did I have to be working at the same place as he did? And then I remembered that time when he wasn’t so reserved, he’d mentioned that he owned his business and that he also worked for a friend. Maybe that was Rick. Again, what did it even matter? Double that ugh.

  “Welcome to the family, Kara. Come back to the shop after your tour and talk to Deb. She’ll tell you what you need to know.” Rick winked at me conspiratorially—as if we both shared a secret Cameron didn’t know and we were going to get him in trouble. He walked behind the desk and grabbed his jacket on the chair, shrugged it on. “I have to run to the site. Have fun, kiddos.”

  Then he left. And I was alone with Cameron.

  I could feel his presence on my back. The air throbbed with it. There were people below us. I could hear the buzz of conversation and movement, but they felt far away. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath.

  Steel, baby. You are made of steel.

  The instant I opened my eyes, I turned to face him.

  The blue of his gaze felt like a sucker punch to my stomach.

  I had already made up my mind that it wouldn’t affect me. I was so convinced that it wouldn’t, I underestimated his effect. So when his focus turned on me, when that piercing gaze fixed on me, it hit me unexpectedly.

  His dark, curly hair was tied in a messy man bun—the first time I saw him wear it like that. He had a heavy five o’clock shadow on his jaw, as if he’d given up on shaving. There was a grease stain on his cheek, as if he’d been working on a vehicle. He looked rakish, a devil-may-care look about him. A man with rough edges and an angelic face.

  A white hard hat was tucked under his arm and a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a black muscle T-shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms. It was also stained with grease. The jeans and steel-toed boots he had on weren’t any better. He looked like a sexy construction worker about to pose for a racy magazine. And he’d have all the months in the calendar.

  I hadn’t seen him in work clothes before. I hadn’t seen him work at all, and seeing him now showed me a different side of him that I didn’t want to see.

  I didn’t want to see any more sides to him—especially the good sides. I knew that no matter how many times I told myself I was over him, how easy it would be to fall back again.

  “Kara,” he said my name in that way of his. Softly, gently. It rolled off his tongue like rich, liquid dark chocolate.

  I fought the delicious shiver that slithered down my spine.

  No. Not again. Not fucking ever.

  Easy to fall back again, yes, but not impossible to stop it.

  He moved his arm and tried to place the hard hat on my head. I stepped away and glared at him.

  “You’re not touching me. In fact, stay away from me. Two feet,” I said, gesturing at the space between us. “Two. Feet. You got that?”

  The amused look in his eyes infuriated me. As if nothing had happened between us. As if he didn’t leave without even saying goodbye.

  If I expected an explanation or an apology from him, I knew it wasn’t going to come.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, bracing his feet apart. “That’s going to be impossible.”

  “No, it’s not. Just keep repeating it to yourself every few seconds. Like a chant. It should help your brain to remember it.”

  A crooked smile appeared on his mouth.

  I looked away.

  “Here,” he said, handing me his hard hat.

  “I want a new one. Something you haven’t infected.”

  I was being childish. The way I was reacting to him, the way I was so defensive. I didn’t like it. If I was really over him, I had to show him he didn’t affect me. Not a bit.

  But it hurt.

  I heard him sigh. “Follow me.”

  I scowled at his sexy back muscles doing their double sexy thing as I followed him down the stairs. I nearly tripped when I noticed what was holding his hair.

  It was my blue hair tie.

  The one that reminded me of his eyes. The one that I was wearing almost a month ago when he pulled it from my hair.

  Confusion swirled inside me.

  Don’t put any meaning into it. He probably reached for it out of convenience. He probably didn’t even know it was yours. For all you know, he’s a hair-tie thief. One for every girl he’s boned. Like Dexter’s blood samples. Get it?

  Well, he hadn’t boned me, and I would never let him, so that would be a big, fat, stinking no.

  I followed him as he opened one of the rooms below the loft, let me enter first. It was a windowless storage room—gray walls, hard hats, jackets, dirty boots, metal lockers, shelves with file folders, and a shower at the back end of the room. He didn’t seem to hear the threatening click of the door as it closed on us. But my body did.

  I stopped at the door, feeling a sensual animalistic danger around him.

  I watched as he walked past me and stopped at a locker. I had forgotten how tall he was, how he took up too much space and air in the room. His torso was long and svelte, his forearm muscles rippled and hardened as he pulled the locker doors open. Then he faced me, gesturing in front of him with his arm.

  “Take one if you like,” he said.

  When I didn’t move, he raised a brow.

  Can you handle me? it seemed to say. A challenge.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. To prove him wrong, I marched in front of him and regretted it instantly. In this room, where I was alone with him, his scent was strong. It wrapped around me, a seductive, cool, blue smell.

  You have to fight it! Can’t give in, girl. Don’t give in.

  It was quiet in the room, a little cold. That was why I shivered. Because it was cold. It had nothing to do with him standing near me.

  I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and searched the shelves inside the locker. The hard hats were located on the top shelf. I was tall, but not inhumanly tall like he was.

  “Want help?” he whispered.

  I felt dizzy. And it was because I hadn’t eaten yet. It was absolutely not because of his proximity. Absolutely not the heat emanating from his body. Absolutely not the delicious timbre of his dark voice.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  I raised onto my tiptoes and felt for the highest shelf without looking. When I felt a hard hat come free, I looked up and screamed when it fell.

  He was there behind me right away. I was locked between his arms as his hands quickly caught the hard hat before it could do damage. I jumped back and sucked in a breath as our bodies made contact.

  I was trapped. The locker doors and his arms blocked my sides. And behind me was a hard, immovable wall of male muscle.

  I could smell him so strongly—that very appealing smell that always reminded me of raw masculinity. I could feel the warmth of his body and the strength he controlled so meticulously.

  We didn’t move. One, two, three damned seconds of weakness. I allowed myself this and only this.

  “Get off me,” I said after a moment. My voice sounded thick.

  He didn’t budge at first. One, two, three, four seconds. Then he did. I jerked away, far, far away, from him.

  “I told you not to touch me,” I said.

  He clenched his jaw, then looked down. There was a smirk on his mouth, but when he looked up, his eyes looked hard. “You were the one who touched me first
.”

  I glowered at him. Fine. That was true. My brain needed oxygen to function, and he was sucking it all out of the room.

  “Here.” He offered the hard hat to me. “I touched this one though. Now it’s infected. Want to get another one?”

  I grabbed the hard hat from his big, idiot hands and left that damned room.

  Now I felt hot. And angry at myself for letting him affect me so strongly, so powerfully that I had let myself wallow in his touch for those significant seconds. I let it happen, and that was what ate at me. Because giving in even for a tiny moment could be my downfall. One blow to an already cracked surface—no matter how thick or strong that wall looked, one blow was all it needed to topple it all down.

  “Wear this.” He handed me a white mask with a yellow, thin garter. “We’re going to drive around the lot and it’s dusty out there. This should help.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “Take it,” he insisted.

  “No.”

  He sighed loudly, then proceeded to open the front door. He held it for me as I walked outside. I squinted, the sun blinding me.

  I blinked up in confusion as it darkened suddenly. And I realized that he had placed his palm in front of me, blocking the brightness of the sun.

  My eyes moved to his face. He was looking at me. His eyes looked so very, very fucking blue that my throat felt tight.

  “Why?” I blurted out.

  Another sign of weakness—asking him a stupid question about his actions. About his feelings.

  I saw him swallow. And just before he could answer, I walked ahead of him.

  Why are you walking away? Are you scared that he’ll answer? Or that he won’t?

  I ignored the voice in my head.

  “I don’t have all day,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  “Not that way.”

  I stopped and turned around. He pointed at a dusty company truck parked at the other end of the building.

  I bit my tongue and headed to the truck. He opened the door for me, waiting for me to get in before he closed it.

  Why couldn’t he be a jerk and stop being a gentleman now? For once, why couldn’t he give me what I wanted and leave me alone?