Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “You’re telling me you didn’t feel something when we kissed?”

  “Of course, I did. I’m not dead. But you’re a client. I’m on the job. I don’t get involved with clients. I can’t afford to lose focus.”

  “You don’t work for me,” he pointed out. “You’re being paid by the network. I’m being paid by the network. If you think of it that way, it’d make us coworkers.” He moved closer but halted when she threw up a hand and stepped back.

  “No, Reed. I’m serious.” She did look him in the eyes this time. He needed to understand that she wasn’t backing down. “My attention needs to be on the job. One hundred percent.”

  He studied her and just when she was about to give in and launch herself at him, he nodded slowly. “Okay. I understand. Business only.” He grabbed a stack of papers and plopped down on the couch.

  Hillary stared at him, dumfounded. She hadn’t expected him to give in so easily. It was exactly what she wanted. How come she felt so desolate?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Thank you for coming in for an interview, but I don’t have any openings right now.”

  Rocky’s heart pounded and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Bob, the motel owner had finagled an interview for him with Tony Tindale, now it was his job to close the deal. They had to hire him. It was his Plan B...and C and D, hell, it was his only plan. Now that the house was wired, there was no way he was getting in by himself. “I was really hoping to stay in the area. I’m a hard worker and I don’t have a family,” no way in hell he’d claim Granny, “so long hours aren’t a problem. Plus, I have extensive construction experience.”

  “Your background is impressive and I wish I could help you.” Tony shook his head and steepled his fingers. “I’m at maximum capacity. I hired a couple of people when I was awarded the job with HGTV. But tell you what, I’ll keep your name on file and if anything opens up, I’ll give you a call.”

  Rocky stood on shaking legs. “Thanks. Appreciate it.” He left the office feeling like a failure. It was Granny’s voice yammering in his head, telling him he’d never amount to anything. He stumbled to the truck and blindly drove to the motel. He did a double-take when he passed a bar that was too run-down to be a tourist trap, but the lot was full, meaning it was a favorite of locals. He made a U-turn and swung into the parking area. Getting shit-faced sounded like a good idea right now, even if his money supply was dwindling faster than a brownie at a Weight Watchers meeting. Not only that, but soon, Granny would be sending the cops after his ass.

  He yanked open the door and stepped inside. The place was no frills, with a long bar running along one wall. Tables and booths took up the middle, while pool tables and dart boards filled the back room.

  The bar was hopping, with a healthy female population. He canvassed the room, noting all of the leather, lace and boobs on display. Right now, Rocky didn’t care. Hell, he was so stressed, he couldn’t get it up with a crane.

  He slid onto an empty stool and ordered a Bud. When the bartender placed the ice-cold bottle into his hands, he drank deeply. He’d missed beer in the slammer. He downed the bottle and ordered two more. Someone jostled his shoulder and he fought the urge to throw a punch. He couldn’t risk getting arrested. He was too close to his goal. Nothing would stop him.

  “Sorry, man,” someone slurred and then dropped onto the seat next to him.

  Rocky held up a hand to let him know it was okay. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t get inside the house without a legit way in. He thought about cutting a hole through a wall and climbing in that way to avoid triggering an alarm, but the cameras would surely catch him.

  “Hey Ron, do you think we’ll get on television?”

  Rocky’s ears perked up at the conversation next to him.

  “I hope so,” someone answered. Rocky assumed it was Ron. “Think of the pick-up lines. We can go up to chicks and be like, ‘Hey baby, we’re movie stars’ and it won’t be a lie.” The men guffawed like horses and clinked their bottles together.

  “Wait a minute,” the man next to him said. “We ain’t gonna be in the movies, are we?”

  “So, we say television stars. Same diff.”

  “Excuse me,” Rocky interrupted. “I heard you say something about television. Are you talking about the renovation show they’re filming next week?”

  “Hell, yeah,” the guy next to him slurred. “My mug’s gonna be famous. Make my momma so proud.” He smiled drunkenly.

  Make her barf, more like it, Rocky thought. “I’d like to be on television, too. How are you getting on the set?”

  “Our company was hired to work.”

  “Really? What company?”

  “TT’s Beach Builds.”

  Well, well, well, it looked like Jesus was indeed looking out for good old Rocky. “Tell me more.”

  #

  Reed flipped through the stack of papers, not even comprehending what he was reading. Hillary had rocked his world and then declared that their relationship would be business only. He felt like laughing out loud. There was no way they could work together for days, weeks, and keep their relationship professional. Sparks flew whenever she was near. His whole body felt alive in her presence.

  He’d sowed his fair share of wild oats when he’d hit the majors. He’d been young, brash, and full of the perks that came with being a baseball superstar. Women flocked to him. Exotic women. Willing women. Then he’d met Daniella, the one-named supermodel, and he’d become a one woman-man. They were a power couple. Paparazzi followed them relentlessly. Daniella had loved every minute of it. She lived her life in front of cameras and was more comfortable when one was trained on her. She would pose and pout those collagen-enhanced lips and the cameras snapped it up. Then came their very public break-up when his life came to a knee-shattering halt. It hadn’t been bad enough that he had to deal with the fall-out of the profession he loved ending, but he had to look at the papers and see Daniella on the arm of his cross-town rival, the man who’d ended his career. Chris Morgan.

  He’d vowed to never give his heart to a woman again. After his television show hit the air, his popularity soared again. The cleat chasers had turned into hammer hussies, as he’d named them. They pursued him relentlessly. Any hookups were kept casual, with his intentions perfectly clear. No strings. No feelings. Daniella had even tried to get back together with him. He’d refused to take her calls and blocked her text messages. Then she’d cornered him at an awards show with cameras in tow. It’d been a calculating move on her part, so sure she was that he’d take her back. When he turned her down flat, she’d gone ballistic, accusing him of setting her up and trying to publicly humiliate her. He reminded her that she was the one who brought the paparazzi. She’d gone into hiding and he hadn’t heard from her since.

  Then Hillary came along and he forgot every vow he’d taken. She got under his skin. Though she was stunning, she wasn’t his usual type. The women he dated were feminine and delicate. Hillary was definitely feminine, but she wasn’t the least bit delicate. She didn’t need a man to take care of her. She could protect herself. Who knew he found strong, independent women packing heat a turn-on?

  He felt her gaze on him, trying to figure out his angle. Well, join the club, babe. He wasn’t sure of it, either. He just knew there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands off her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next three days passed in a blur of sorting through the remaining papers and documents and clearing out the rest of the junk from the house. Reed and Hillary worked from morning until early evening, taking breaks to walk along the beach with Kota.

  The tension that existed after the encounter on the couch had eased and they fell into an easy rhythm, almost like partners. They talked and laughed and she found out about his childhood and his dreams of becoming a major league baseball player from the time he could sit up in his crib. She told him about her brother and how she’d followed in his footsteps all the way to the military. She tol
d him about her coworkers and the job. He related stories of the parents he adored and the crew who would be showing up to remodel the house in the next couple of days. As easy as he was to talk to, she still hadn’t told him about her last assignment in Greece.

  The day after her declaration of no touching, he insisted on taking her to dinner. She was skeptical of his intentions but went along, if for no other reason than to spend more time with him. They dressed up and when Reed held the doors for her, she tried to argue. It wasn’t a date, she told him but he just shrugged and said it was habit. Though she was an independent woman, she was secretly charmed by his manners. He made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. The next night, she suggested a restaurant. They picked one out together the third evening. They were the most amazing non-dates she’d ever had. They clicked. They shared interests. It’d been all she could do to walk to her room alone each night.

  “That’s everything,” Reed said, his hands on his hips. He hadn’t worn the sling since the first night. The arm didn’t seem to bother him, so she let it go. She wouldn’t want to wear one, either. She had insisted that he don one of the Kevlar vests her coworkers packed in the box of equipment, considering one had literally saved her life. They were thin and lightweight and fit easily beneath a t-shirt. Reed hadn’t objected.

  The house was cleared out down to the floor and walls. They’d filled three dumpsters and a new one was parked out front waiting for shingles and siding and materials from the inside demo. A local veterans’ charity had picked up all the items that were salvageable. They’d recycled tons of paper and magazines. The house was ready for renovations to begin.

  There had been no more attempted break-ins, so either the security system scared the perp away or they’d thrown out what he was after. Kellan postulated that it might be high school kids looking for things they could steal and sell for a quick buck knowing the house was vacant. If that was the case, the kids would’ve been disappointed. They hadn’t found anything worth the risk of breaking and entering.

  Supplies were scheduled to be delivered tomorrow so work could start the next day. The owner of the local construction company had stopped by to introduce himself. Reed’s foreman, Neil Farmington, would be arriving tomorrow as well. Connie’s husband and kids were returning to Los Angeles and Reed and Neil were set to move in during the renovations. Or at least that had been the plan before he settled into her cottage. She wasn’t sure what his intentions were now and she was afraid to ask.

  It would be better for him to move to the house with Connie and Neil, she supposed. She was coming to depend on him too much. She looked forward to seeing him first thing in the morning and spending time with him during the day. Their lives had fallen into a comfortable routine, almost like they were living together for real, minus the sex. And damn, she was having a hard time denying her body. It wanted him. Bad.

  Reed seemed to have no problem ignoring the sexual tension. After her big, brave speech about a professional relationship, he’d taken it to heart. In fact, she wasn’t sure he’d kiss her if she asked.

  He’d left the house that night, only saying he was going out. She waited for him to return, wondering if he was hitting up a bar and picking up a local. God knows, women would fall at his feet for the chance to warm his bed. The ladies at the hospital had been proof of that. She’d been so relieved when she heard him return home not long after he left. She’d almost rushed out to greet him, but she forced herself to stay in her room.

  #

  Not touching Hillary was going to kill him. It took all his restraint to keep the relationship professional. They talked for hours, found out they had several of the same hobbies and likes. She was a baseball fan. That alone was enough to make him fall in love. It used to grate on his nerves when he arrived home after a game and Daniella would ask if he scored a touchdown. He tried to explain the game but she just didn’t care enough to learn. Hillary was a die-hard fan. And she hated Chris Morgan as much as he did. That revelation almost had him dropping to one knee.

  After her speech of keeping their relationship professional, they’d continued to sort through boxes in a tense silence. At one point, he looked up to find her deliciously rumpled, her hair in a messy ponytail, a smudge of dirt on her face. His thumb itched to rub the mark from her smooth skin. Her lips had parted and his body reacted, hardening painfully. Before he did just that, he spun around, jumped in the shower and then left the house. If he stayed one more minute, he’d have whisked her off to bed. His body had been so primed. Instead, he found a bar and stopped inside for a drink. People started to recognize him and it wasn’t long before a crowd of women surrounded him. At one time, the attention was like a drug. Now he found it annoying. He signed autographs, posed for photos and finished his one and only beer. After leaving a generous tip, he headed home. Alone.

  His foreman Neil would be arriving tomorrow and Reed was supposed to move into the house with him and Connie but he didn’t want to leave Hillary. Would she want him to go? Maybe she’d prefer her privacy. But damn, he’d miss her. Kota, too. The little guy was his buddy.

  Since the house had already been cleared out, the crew could get right to demolition, ripping out the old cabinets and appliances in the kitchen, tearing down the walls that separated the rooms, pulling up the floors. Demo work was dirty and difficult and it wasn’t exciting. The viewers wanted to see the flashy new appliances, the granite countertops, the shiny new floors. The glitz. The cameras would film the tear-down, but only a small part would air. Most of the focus would be on the transformation of bringing the house back to life. Even though he was the host of the show and the designer, he liked to get his hands dirty by helping with the destruction. But with the broken arm, he’d be strictly working from the sidelines on this one.

  Reed had renovated homes on the Pacific Coast, so he was knowledgeable about the requirements for a dwelling so close to the water. Josh planned on giving the home to his parents, a surprise to be revealed before the closing credits, and he wanted an open floor plan and high-end furnishings, keeping with a beach theme. Reed had run his designs by Josh for his approval before he left LA. The network was already heavily promoting the show. It was set to air as a kick-off-to-summer special. When the house was finished and Josh had an off day, he’d fly in with his folks and they would film them walking through for the first time and then Josh’s announcement that he was gifting it to them.

  Fresh from the shower, Hillary rounded a corner and almost slammed into him. His arms automatically reached out to steady her.

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He knew he should abide by her wishes and let her go but his hands refused to cooperate. Even though she was tall, he had a good six inches on her. He waited for her gaze to lift from his chest. When it did, their eyes collided and he felt like he’d been clocked with the shovel again. His pupils dilated, his breathing labored. His head lowered of its own volition and then he was thankfully, blessedly, kissing her again.

  #

  Rocky was studying the water-stained ceiling of his motel room, contemplating his miserable existence and hopeless future when his cell rang. He cringed, dreading hearing Granny’s tinny voice condemning him. “You’re going back to prison, boy,” she’d say. Shit, he hadn’t called her for two days. She probably had the cops on his ass already. Then he remembered she didn’t have his number. Probably an annoying telemarketer. He snatched it off the table. “What?”

  “Uh, this is Tony Tindale from TT’s Beach Builds.”

  He shot up and dropped his legs off the side of the bed. “Oh, yes, Mr. Tindale. I’m sorry about that. I thought you were someone else.”

  “It’s fine. It looks like I will have a job for you after all, if you’re still interested. A couple of my men were involved in an accident and they won’t be able to work. I need help immediately.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Tony chuckled. “I haven’t even told you the salary.”

  “I trust you�
��ll be fair.”

  “The job will consist of helping with the inside demolition and renovation on the Grimes’ house, which you are familiar with, I believe. Are you comfortable with that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Great. I need you to start tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there.” Rocky disconnected and hopped on top of the bed, gyrating his hips and waving his arms in a victory dance. Plan B came through after all. “Take that, Granny,” he crowed. “In fact…” he plopped down, grabbed the receiver from the phone beside the bed and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Granny.”

  “Who is this?”

  Rocky gritted his teeth, reining in his temper. He was her only grandchild. “Rock…er, Ricky.”

  “You haven’t called. I was about to send the police after you. Been saved yet?”

  “I have and guess what, Granny. Jesus has already blessed me. I was asked to help build a house for a homeless family who lost all their possessions in a fire. Even the dog died.” There, tug on a few of the old bat’s heartstrings, if she had any. “It’ll be hard work, but all the hours I spent building houses in my youth prepared me for this. I have you to thank, Granny.”

  “See, I told you, boy. Jesus helps those who believe in him.”

  Rocky rolled his eyes. The only person who ever helped him was himself. “I won’t be able to bring Gramps truck back for a couple of weeks.” And it’d be sporting a missing headlight and a huge dent in the front bumper. Granny had eyesight like Mr. Magoo, so there was no sense in getting it fixed. “I’ll need it to get back and forth to the worksite, you understand.”

  “Fine. I’ll expect it back as soon as you are finished. I’m glad you accepted Jesus as your savior, Ricky.” The line went dead.

  Rocky tossed the receiver back on the hook and let out a whoop. He’d find what he was looking for and be out of the state before Tony Tindale could tell him he was fired.