Then again, the sinking awareness of her inadequacies wasn’t new; it had dogged her most of her life, but her relationship with Justin had begun without that between them. Now she wished she didn’t know the difference.
Shaking herself, she forced her thoughts back to pricing. “Yeah, I brought them and some samples to show you.”
“Great, let’s take a look.”
Tara handed him the printed spreadsheet of figures, then walked to the back of the truck to retrieve the box of samples.
Justin scanned the printout, then did a double take when he realized she was lifting a heavy box. He tossed his clipboard and paperwork into the cab of her truck and nudged her aside to take the box. “Let me give you a hand.”
Her first instinct was to yank the box away, but as he brushed up against her and his hand nudged hers out of the way, she froze. A new sensation poured through her and she didn’t understand what was happening. Her fingers fell away, and a heated blush crept up her cheeks. A strange, sweet longing rushed through her system, melting her knees and tickling her stomach. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she stared at him in awe.
He didn’t seem to notice as he sat the box on the ground and lifted out a faucet handle. “You brought old faucets?”
She tried to answer but her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
“What?” He returned the handle to the box.
“I… yeah I wanted to show you some…”
He straightened and glanced to her face, then gazed toward the work site and adjusted his hard hat. “I’m lost. What are you talking about?”
Irritated with herself, she shoved away her disappointment at his lack of engagement, as well as all the other stray emotions running through her system. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me, so I brought a box to show you.”
He looked lost. “You better start at the beginning.”
Left with only irritation to push her forward, she trudged to the cab of the truck to get the printout. “Look at this.”
He took the sheet and scanned it, a wrinkle creasing his forehead. “This doesn’t make any sense; the numbers are in the wrong column.”
She sighed. “No, they’re not. We won’t be spending money for fixtures; we’ll be charging them to the project. As profit.”
He scratched his head. “Why would we do that?”
She pointed to the box on the ground between them. “Because we already have fixtures.”
“This old stuff?”
The familiar feeling of her blood boiling compelled her forward. “I knew you’d say that.” She dug through the box and pulled out a faucet. “Here.” She shoved it at him.
Grunting as the faucet was shoved into his stomach, he turned it in his hands, his eyes lighting up. “This is beautiful, it looks new, like a reproduction.”
“Well, it’s not. I cleaned it up.”
He glanced from the box of tarnished plumbing to Tara, and then to the faucet in his hands. “You mean to tell me that you have enough of these old pieces for the entire project?”
“Not the entire project, not enough pieces that are nice anyway, but close. That’s why I itemized the sheet. I went through my supplies and figured out what we’ll need to buy. The cost of a good reproduction faucet is pretty substantial right now because the look is popular. Bottom line, we should be able to make some money on fixtures.”
* * *
Justin’s brain engaged. He’d been completely distracted by Tara and had spent the morning forcing his gaze away from her, careful not to meet her eye. Now confronted with a spreadsheet, his financial sense spiked. The realization dawned that Tara had a large stash of supplies that they could charge to the project. Costs became profits and the epiphany caught him completely off guard. He’d been so busy trying to get her into bed, he hadn’t taken her seriously when she tried to tell him about the furniture. Even when he’d seen the pictures of her recent work at the meeting in DC, he hadn’t understood.
He dropped the faucet and the spreadsheet and grabbed her shoulders. “Do you know what this means?”
Her expression wrenched him back to reality, and he dropped his hands as if she’d burned him. She wobbled slightly and he ignored it. Bending to grasp the spreadsheet, he scanned the list of supplies, excitement building. “Holy crap, Tara! This is amazing!”
Glancing up from the page, he saw her lean into the truck and bite her bottom lip. Forcing his thoughts back to finances, he did a little dance, waving the papers in the air.
A sideways grin tugged at Tara’s lips.
He wanted to swing her into the air and twirl her around. His concern for the project, and his worry over the loss of splitting the profit evaporated like water on hot pavement. He reached for her but the emotion in her eyes stopped him cold.
He froze -- the moment suspended in time. He understood fully for the first time that he’d been thinking with the wrong head. He’d seen Tara as a conquest instead of a savvy business partner. Filled with self-disgust, he lowered his hands, his expression falling.
The hurt in her eyes was his fault. He’d been a complete idiot. The woman was intelligent on an exceptional level, brave, strong, and a visionary. He’d missed all that, as well as her sensitivity, all because he’d wanted her in his arms. Lost in guilt, he struggled for composure.
After a brief struggle for the correct response, he finally patted Tara roughly on the shoulder, like he would a crewmember. “Way to go partner. I can’t wait to see what else you have in storage.”
* * *
Pleased with Justin’s joyful response to her spreadsheet, Tara stood motionless. His realization that she could make a huge difference with the project’s profit margin should have been enough. But it wasn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Justin lugged his toolbox from the back of his truck and headed toward the front porch of the old house. The crews would be arriving any minute to strip the house and barn, in preparation for the additions and remodeling.
Hearing a vehicle come up the drive, he turned. Surprised to see Tara’s old white truck, he shrugged and continued toward the front door. The woman was the biggest distraction he’d ever faced, and he was tired of battling whether to protect her, yell at her, or kiss her.
Placing his tools in one corner, he surveyed the progress to the house so far. The trash had been removed, as well as the bats. The carpet runner had been pulled up from the stairs and the filthy curtains and shag carpeting removed. Leaning to one side to peer into the kitchen, he could see that the old fridge had also been hauled away.
Tara trudged through the door, interrupting his thoughts. Her face was glowing with perspiration, her bun flopped as she walked, and a smile lit her face.
“Hi.” She wiggled her fingers toward him. “I see my trash crew stopped by.”
Afraid his voice would crack, he raised a hand in greeting. The ratty tank top she wore tucked into her holey jeans made him crazy. Disgusted that he couldn’t concentrate on work for more than thirty seconds with her in the room, he frowned and turned away.
Her smile dimmed. “Are you still planning to have the demo meeting this morning?”
He nodded and walked toward the kitchen.
She followed him. “I know we agreed that you’d head up construction but there are some things in the house and barn that I want to salvage. Is that okay with you?”
He yanked off his hardhat and scrubbed his hands across the top of his head. The thought of having her around thrilled and irritated him at the same time. He turned to her and slammed his hat back on. “Like what?”
Before she could answer, the sound of boots on the porch and slamming truck doors heralded the arrival of the crew. He tossed her another frustrated glance and turned toward the door to meet the guys.
“Hey, gather round – let’s pow-wow for a minute before we get down to business.” He called to the men, then waited for the laughter and foot scuffing to calm as he shuffled through pages on his clipboard.
&nbs
p; Tara met the crew with greetings and high fives, causing Justin’s impatience level to raise another notch. The guys might treat her like a sister, but no red-blooded man could ignore her assets for long.
He whistled through his teeth to get their attention. When all eyes were turned back to him, he glanced down at the clipboard. “Okay, guys, looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us today. To meet the delivery schedule for concrete, we need to gut this entire house today, if possible, and tomorrow we need to start on the barn.”
Heads nodded in understanding.
“I want to leave the floors in this room for last, so we can haul out the garbage without stepping on nails.”
“This floor?” Tara interrupted.
Thrown off his groove, he turned to her. “Yes, this floor last, so we can haul stuff out through the front door.”
“No, this floor— none of the floors are going to be torn out.” She stated the fact with some concern over the misunderstanding.
His hand holding the clipboard dropped to his side. “What are you talking about? This whole house is getting new floors to match the additions.”
She glanced from Justin to the crew and back. “Oh, okay, just take them out carefully, and I’ll haul them away tonight.” She smiled.
His hand plopped on his hip. “We don’t have time to take up each board with kid gloves, Tara. This demo has to be done today.”
The color drained from her face. “You don’t mean you plan to hack them up and yank them out?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Can we talk about this after the meeting please?”
She nodded blankly.
He cleared his throat and lifted the clipboard. “Okay, let’s see here, floors...” He pointed at three men. “You three will tear out everything in the kitchen and—”
“Everything?”
All heads turned to Tara. She raised her hands in question.
Justin glared at her. “Yes, everything.” His expression clearly conveyed that she’d better not say another word.
She shrank visibly under his glare but couldn’t help herself. “The cabinets are good...”
“Stop!”
The crew’s heads swung back to Justin.
She glanced from the crew to Justin. “You can’t tear up perfectly good cabinets. I’ll—”
The crew’s heads bobbed back to Tara.
“Can I continue my meeting, please?” Justin huffed, getting the guys’ attention once again.
Tara’s face darkened, but she extended her arm out, palm up, to indicate he had the floor, and then folded her arms.
He tossed her a dirty look and raised his clipboard. “Bob and Steve, I want you guys to start on the windows. I need them all torn out before—”
“Not the windows too!”
Once again, the crew’s gaze turned back to Tara.
His jaw clenched, Justin pointed toward the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a moment, please?” He stomped in that direction, not waiting for her answer.
Tara shrugged toward the guys and followed him.
He paced to the far end of the room and waited for her. With his teeth clenched, he raised his index finger. “How dare you question me like that in front of my crew?”
Her head jerked back. “Your crew? Most of those guys have worked for me for years!”
“That’s beside the point, you have wasted twenty minutes of our time already with your tantrums.”
Her mouth fell open. “Tantrums? Tantrums?”
He continued his rant, his voice raising. “We have a very tight schedule, and I can’t waste time pulling each nail, one at a time, so you can save every damn board.”
Tara snapped. With both hands on his chest, she gave him a push toward the corner. “I do not throw tantrums!”
He opened his mouth to reply and she pushed him again.
“You may think I’m a trashy, no good, piece of crap now that you know where I came from, but I’d like to remind you that I have run a successful remodel business with those guys...” she pointed over her shoulder, “…for years, before you came to town.”
The color drained from his face and he reached for her, but she pushed him one more time, his back to the corner.
“And if you don’t want to take a day to salvage the items on this property, then I will charge you for every damn piece we use from my supplies!”
Stunned by the comment that he thought she was trash, he couldn’t even assimilate the announcement that his profit margin had just dropped by thousands.
She leaned into his face to continue. “You may not want me anymore, but you are stuck with me for the duration of this project, so you’re going to have to find a way to work with me!”
Her final retort tore him to the quick. He stared at her as she glared into his eyes. His breath hitched in his throat. Finally, he choked out a reply. “Is that what you think of me?”
Shocked to see the fire back in Justin’s eyes, regardless of his words, her mouth popped open and closed like a fish. She hunched and her voice was soft, almost indiscernible. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that your opinion of me has changed. I just want to make as much profit as possible on this project.”
He stared at her, wordless, as her eyes filled with tears. She turned to run, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest. “God, you make me crazy.”
She realized he was going to kiss her just before his lips touched hers. This time she didn’t stiffen in his arms or try to pull away – she wanted to touch him, feel him against her. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then melted into his arms. Warmth flowed from him and into her like a waterfall, releasing an overwhelming but tender fluttering in her chest.
His hands on her upper arms, he tore his mouth from hers and pushed her to arms’ length. Both their chests heaved as their eyes met. Her eyes were soft and dreamy with an emotion he’d never seen there before.
He touched her cheek with the back of his finger, his eyes dark and miserable. “This isn’t right, I can’t do this to you. Sorry, Tara, I’m so sorry.” He gazed one last moment into her shocked eyes, then released her to lean limply against the counter as he stomped back to the living room.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Justin tromped into the living room, the crew’s attention was riveted anywhere but at him. None of them made eye contact. Frustrated beyond his breaking point, Justin rolled his eyes and trudged out to the porch. Leaning on the rail, head hanging, he breathed deep breaths, trying to gain control. The porch railing cracked under his weight, and he jerked back to avoid falling into the overgrown flowerbeds. “Son-of-a—”
“Boss?”
Justin turned to see Steve, clad in his usual dusty overalls and twisting his ball cap in his huge hands. “I don’t mean to butt in, but we know how it is with Tara.” Justin straightened, his eyes shooting sparks. “No – no, man, not like that! I just mean she wants to save everything. and we know how she thinks.” Steve waited for a reply.
Justin nodded once. “Go on...”
“Well, I was thinking maybe you and some of the guys could start taking down this porch, cuz there’s nothing here to save, and me and the other guys would start taking up the floors. We’ve done it a million times and we’re pretty quick.”
Justin braced one fist on his hip and considered the plan. “Sounds reasonable. She really saves all these old floors?”
Steve scratched his head. “Only if the building is slated for demolition. She usually refinishes them. She does have a whole building full of floors though.”
“You mean to tell me, she may have enough wood to do the remodels if we keep these?”
The foreman pursed his lips to one side. “Not sure, it may be close.”
Justin rubbed his jaw. “Well, crap. I guess we need to have a serious sit-down and discuss what stays and what goes.”
The man pulled his hat on and nodded. “It may be in your best interest. We’re used to working that way.”
Ju
stin puffed out a long breath. “Okay, let’s still go ahead and do new floors but save these for Tara, and send out some guys to start on this porch.”
The man turned and Justin called out to him. “Thanks for the help – seriously.”
The workman nodded. “No problem, boss.”
* * *
Tara ran out the back door and into the forest, tears streaming down her cheeks. Confusion, happiness, and rage battled for top position in her gut. Stopping to gasp for breath, she leaned over and braced her hands on her knees.
What had Justin meant? Why did he kiss me and touch me like that, then push me away? Why do I want him so bad?
She wandered to a moss-covered boulder and sat gingerly on the edge. She knew she’d upset Justin in the meeting, but she had a business to run. She couldn’t use so much of her stockpile on this project without adding back to it. The house and barn were full of valuable salvage, and just because he didn’t see it, didn’t mean she could afford to waste it. She could do remodels on a tight budget with a low profit-margin for a reason, and she could only continue to do that if she used every piece of salvage she could find.
Her stomach twisted, knowing that even now, Justin and the crew would be tearing out floors and cabinets and tossing them, broken, into the dumpster outside the front door.
Reaching up, she yanked the band from her untidy bun and pulled her hair over one shoulder. Raking through it with her fingers, she replayed the kiss over and over in her mind. Justin had been so tender and so sad. What did he mean when he said, “I can’t do this to you?” Why had he been so distant and then suddenly changed gears?
Hometown Series Box Set Page 18
