by Rachel Hanna
“Oh, come on. California girl with attitude. How hot is she?” she asked again. Brad looked at her and then at Clay before he cracked a smile.
“So hot that my eyelashes were starting to melt.”
Addison and Clay cackled with laughter. “That’s pretty damn hot,” Clay said.
“Yeah, but her icy cool personality quickly saved me. She’s a…”
“A what, dear brother? A bitch?” Addison whispered, putting her free hand over Anna Grace’s ear.
“I didn’t say that…”
“Why is it when a woman is a hard nosed business professional, we are called an ugly name?”
“It’s not about that, Addy. She has no feelings, no soul. She’s just mean.”
“Maybe she’s had to learn to be that way to survive in business.”
“No, it’s more than that…” he started to say, but he noticed that Clay and Addison’s attention was elsewhere. A car pulled up beside them, and Brad lost his breath.
Clay and Addison stared at the woman getting out of the car. She was stunning with light blond hair pulled tightly behind her head. Brad let out a low groan, and the pair immediately realized who she was.
“Hi. I’m Ronni Blair. I have a reservation to stay here for the next few weeks,” she said, reaching her hand out and shaking Addison’s free hand. She was smiling and engaging. Nothing like she’d been at the theater. Brad stood there with his mouth hanging open slightly, wondering how on Earth she could change her personality so quickly.
“Hello again, Ronni,” he said as he leaned into her view. Was she purposely trying to ignore the fact that he was standing there too?
“Brad,” she said simply and turned toward her car to get her bags. Clay ran down the walkway and helped her.
“Let me show you to your room,” Clay said. She followed him up the walkway with Brad’s eyes trailing her. When he turned back to Addison, she was grinning from ear to ear.
“What?”
“You’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you so smitten!” she said in a loud whisper.
“Smitten? Really?”
“You’re blushing, Brad Parker!” she said with a giggle.
“Addy, shut up.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to do nothing. She’s an awful woman, trust me. She’s hot, I’ll give her that, but she’s about as prickly as a porcupine. I’m not getting involved in that nightmare.”
“Okay, you keep telling yourself that…” she said, humming as she walked away toward the house. Brad watched his sister walk inside, but what he was really watching was the image of the beautiful blond standing in the entryway. She was going to be a problem for him. He just knew it.
Chapter 3
The next morning, Brad arrived early on the job site. He and Ronni had spent their first day crunching numbers and getting on the same page as far as the job went. Today, they’d be walking the property and making some design decisions so that he could hire the proper contractors to begin the work.
After an evening of watching TV and drinking a few beers, he’d gotten a good night’s sleep and was determined to keep it professional today. No staring or drooling or random crotch Jack-In-The-Box problems.
Today was going to be about proving himself as a professional. After all, he wasn't trying to get a date with this woman. She was his co-worker, like it or not, and he would have to deal with her for a few weeks.
He walked into the lobby of the theater and saw her, up on a ladder, measuring a doorway. She didn't see him at first, so he had time to look at her yet again. He shouldn't have, but it was impossible. She was gorgeous, especially when she wasn't scowling at him.
She was wearing a pair of form fitting jeans and a tight gray t-shirt. Her boots were sitting on the ground next to the ladder, probably because they had heels too. This time they weren't stiletto, but they certainly weren't meant for climbing ladders. He put his briefcase, getting fuller by the day, on the counter. It slipped and fell with a thud to the floor. This caused Ronni to swing her head around, and she lost her balance, starting the long tumble to the floor below.
Brad ran the few feet when he saw her starting to fall, and she fell instead into his strong arms, her face coming to rest just inches from his own. She was panting for air, obviously terrified, and he was relieved that she hadn't gotten hurt.
"Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned. He was trying to ignore the fact that she was in his arms, and it felt completely and totally right. His hand was on her butt, and that too felt pretty dang good.
"I'm fine,” she finally said, her breath jagged. “Put me down. Please," she said, her face changing to its normal icy appearance. It was a shame, really, because she was so beautiful. The scowling looks she gave ruined a perfectly good thing.
He gingerly put her down until she was standing on her own two feet.
"Glad I was here to catch you," he said, assuming she'd want to finally say thank you for his chivalrous act. Of course not.
"I should be glad? Really? If you hadn't dropped your seventies-looking briefcase, I wouldn't have been startled in the first place," she said, turning to pick up her boots. "Shall we get started?"
"Okay, that was my late father's briefcase, first of all. And second of all, why do you have to be so rude all the time?"
"Sorry about your father," she said softly before continuing. "And second, I'm not rude. I get to the point. That's all."
"Around here we call that rude," he said, picking up his briefcase and walking toward the office. She followed and slipped on her boots once she sat down.
"Well, maybe that's a Southern thing," she commented with a bit of a snicker. He didn't like it one bit. As if Southern equaled stupid or something bad.
"From where I sit, Southern things are pretty damn good, Ronni. And if you're going to do business around here, you'd better learn the way of life."
"I won't be here long."
"Well, I assume your boss wants this to be a success?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.
"Of course."
"Then maybe you should tone down your attitude and ease up a little. We're at the beach, for goodness sakes."
"I live at the beach in California."
"Not the same thing. People around here are laid back, courteous and expect good manners. They're family people for the most part. They say please and thank you and yes ma'am..."
"No one needs to call me ma'am. I'll scratch their eyes out," she said firmly, but then her mouth formed a genuine smile.
"Wow. Is that a smile I just saw?" Brad prodded. She tried to put her straight face back on, but it didn't work.
"Maybe. See? I'm not all bad."
"I don't think you're bad at all," he lied, although his opinion was shifting moment by moment.
"No?"
"You just need a little Southern renovation yourself," he said. "Come on, let me show you around town."
"We have work to do," she said, reaching for her files.
"Ronni, you need to know the area. The people. The culture of this place. That's part of this whole project. The work here can wait."
She studied his face for a moment and finally relented. “Okay, fine. One hour. But then we come back here and get to the real work. Deal?”
“Deal.”
They walked outside into the blazing Georgia sun. It was early July, and the heat was almost overwhelming. Thankfully, they were at the beach, so cooling down was steps away in most cases.
“Listen, you’re going to be miserable in that outfit,” Brad said, pointing at her jeans and high boots.
“But this is what I brought,” she said, looking down at her clothes.
“Really? If you live at the beach at home, why would you dress like that?”
“Well, for one thing, I don’t hang out at the beach a lot,” she said as they walked toward his truck.
“Why?”
“Because I’m busy. I have things to do.”
“And relaxing isn’t one of them?”
“No.”
“Then why live at the beach in the first place?” he asked, getting more curious about her by the minute.
“Because that’s where the successful people live.”
“I see. And you’re successful?” he asked, opening the door to his truck for her. She stood there staring at it for a moment and then looked at him.
“You’re not serious? We can go in my rental car,” she said, pointing at the small silver sports car sitting across the lot.
“Um, I’m a pretty big guy. No way I’m folding myself in half to get in that thing.” She sighed and stepped into the truck as he held the door open, trying desperately not to stare at her butt as she climbed inside.
Brad got into the other side and cranked the truck up. He noticed her fanning herself already and smiled. “Let’s run over to Pellman’s.”
“What’s that?”
“A small department store down the road near the Walmart,” he said as he started pulling out of the lot.
“Walmart?” she said, cringing so much that he could see it out of the corner of his eye.
“No, I said Pellman’s. They have perfectly nice, beach related clothing for the successful woman on-the-go,” he said, smiling at her again. This time, she smiled back slightly, which was progress in his mind.
“I’ll be fine in this. Really,” she insisted.
“You’re going to die of heat stroke, and then I’m going to have to give you mouth to mouth to revive you…”
“Fine! Goodness, you’re persistent…” she muttered.
“It’s a great quality in a contractor, don’t ya think?” She rolled her eyes and didn’t answer, instead opting to look out the window at the passing scenery. “So, are you from California originally?” he asked, trying to pass the uncomfortable time.
“You don’t have to do the whole small talk thing, Brad. I’m fine with the silence,” she said without looking at him. For a moment, it angered him but then he saw something. Pain. Her face was a mixture of pain and sadness, and he didn’t know why. Worst of all, he didn’t know why he cared anyway. She was just some woman he was working with for a few weeks, and then she’d be gone back to her California life. She was right. Why make small talk?
They rode the five minutes over to Pellman’s, and she ran inside. Within ten minutes, she was back outside wearing a sexy little red sundress and silver sandals. She was even more stunning now. Just great.
She climbed inside of the truck before Brad could get out and open the door, which was probably a good thing since he would’ve had a view of her climbing up. That might have been too much for his poor heart to take.
“Okay, where to?” she asked as she closed the door.
“Well, I thought I’d just give you a little tour of the town. Hopefully it will give you a taste of the people, who they are, where they hang out…”
“Let’s get to it then,” she said sharply. He started to drive, and avoided looking at her as much as he could.
“How’d you like Pellman’s?” he finally had to ask.
“It wasn’t so bad,” she said, shooting him a small smile.
“Apparently,” he said, nodding his head to the bag she had placed at her feet. It was filled to the brim with new clothing, and he was a little excited to see it all in the coming days.
They drove down the main street in January Cove, and he pointed out the major places that the locals frequented. The dry cleaners, the grocery store, the library.
“And that’s Jolt,” he said with a smile. “My brother’s girlfriend, Rebecca, runs the place. She just moved here with her teenage son a few months ago.”
“From where?”
“New York. Her husband was killed in the September eleventh attacks.”
He heard a small gasp escape from her lips. “Oh no. How terrible. Was he in one of the buildings?”
“Yes. Her son was just a baby really. He doesn’t remember his Dad at all, but he and Jackson are getting closer all the time.”
“That’s good. A kid needs stable parents. I know that all too well...” And there it was. Just a comment, but one that came from her soul. One that showed, finally, that she was human like anyone else.
“I lost my Dad when I was pretty young, so I know how important that is too,” he said, as they pulled in front of Jolt and stopped. “Want some coffee?”
“No thanks. Not right now. I’d rather keep the tour moving along,” she said, not making eye contact.
“Okay, but we’re going to need to get lunch at some point.”
“I brought my lunch.”
“And what did you bring?”
“Salad,” she said, as if there was no other possibility.
“You really are a California girl,” he said with a laugh.
“And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“Salad? Why don’t you eat something heartier like a hamburger?”
“Because it will clog your arteries and take years off your life. Not to mention make you fat,” she said furrowing her eyebrows.
“But it tastes good, and you only live once.”
She shook her head and laughed as they started to drive again. He took her down to the ferry and parked.
“Um, what are we doing?”
“I want to show you something.” She looked almost scared. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to molest you or anything.”
“Do you have any filter on that mouth of yours?”
“Nope,” he answered simply before opening his door. Again, she jumped down before he could get around to help her like the Southern gentleman he was.
“Hey…” Clay called out from the ferry.
“Clay, so good to see you again. I didn’t know you ran the ferry,” she said, her whole demeanor changing. She was smiling and shook his hand. What on Earth was the problem with this woman?
“I’m surprised your tour guide here didn’t tell you,” he said, grinning at Brad.
“Didn’t get a chance to. We were having such enthralling conversations in the truck.” She rolled her eyes yet again and crossed her arms. “Come on.”
She followed the men to the ferry, and then allowed Clay to help her up onto the boat. “Where are we going?”
“To the island,” Brad answered, pointing for her to sit at the back of the boat.
“There’s an island?”
“Yep. Most people don’t know about it, except the long-time locals. My brother had his wedding reception there a few weeks back.”
“And why do I need to see it, Brad?”
“Because you need to know the whole area, Ronni.” He put extra emphasis on saying her name because she had done that to his. It was like the worst game of one-upping he’d ever been a part of.
“I don’t see how this…” she argued.
“Jeez, woman, can’t you just relax for once? Take a moment to breathe in the salty sea air and enjoy the moment.” He was becoming frustrated with the wall she had erected around herself. She seemed nice and friendly to everyone else but him. Had he harmed her in a past life or something?
“Fine. I’ll relax,” she said in an almost pouting tone. He wondered if she was married or engaged or dating someone, but he dare not ask. She’d probably push him right over the edge of the ferry. But still, he wanted to know if there was a man somewhere willing to put up with her attitude. Right now, she truly had no redeeming qualities as a person except for her beauty, and that made him sad to think. Beauty would only carry her so far in life.
She leaned into the metal railing and rested her chin on the top of her hand as she stared out into the water. And then she closed her eyes, and he could see her taking in deep breaths as if it was a struggle to relax. She was really trying, and the fact that it was difficult was painful for him to watch. Really, why did he care? He’d only just met her, and she’d be gone in a few weeks anyway.
But he did care.
A few minutes late
r, they pulled into the dock at the island and got off. Clay stayed aboard the boat and pulled off a few minutes later.
“Hey, where’s he going?” she asked, almost frantic.
“He’ll be back in about twenty minutes or so. He makes runs back and forth all day.”
“But what if no one’s there wanting a ride?”
“Then he just comes back.”
“That seems like a waste of time and fuel…”
“Ronni, relax. This is how January Cove operates.” She stood on the dock, still wearing her sandals, and looked at him for a moment before averting her eyes. There was something in that look that he couldn’t put his finger on, so he let it go. “Take off your shoes.”
“What?”
“You don’t want to ruin your new shoes, do you?” he asked. He slipped his shoes off as well before they stepped off the dock and onto the warm sand.
“Come on,” he said, urging her into the edge of the treeline in the middle of the island.
“Where are we going, Brad?” He just waved for her to come, and she followed without saying anything else.
“I want to show you my private area,” he said without thinking about his choice of words.
“Excuse me?” she squealed, stopping dead in her tracks and holding up her hands like she was about to be attacked.
“Poor choice of words,” he said as he turned around and saw her standing a good ten feet away from him. “I meant that I wanted to show you where I spend my time when I come here. I’ll keep my private area to myself unless you request a viewing.”
Shockingly, she started laughing. Actual laughter. Not a smile, not a smirk, not a giggle. A laugh. It was so beautiful to see her face and hear her laugh that he almost hugged her, as if she’d accomplished something big, like winning a Pulitzer Prize. Instead, he started laughing too.
“You’re a strange person, Brad Parker,” she finally said after she caught her breath.
“Thank you. And also thank you for laughing at the idea of seeing my private area. Really boosted my self-confidence. Come on,” he said, reaching out for her hand to pull her up the dune of sand he was on.
“I’ve got it,” she said, reverting back to her independence as she struggled her way up the sand.
