False Impressions

by Marianne Rice

  False Impressions

  McKay-Tucker Men, Book 3

  Marianne Rice

  Published 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-62210-201-3

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © Published 2015, Marianne Rice. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Recovering alcoholic and former party animal, Cole Tucker would be an idiot to start something with his newly-hired right-hand woman, Samantha Chase. It figures he can’t seem to keep his mitts off the sexy, five-feet-nothing, single mom who can toss a sack of shingles over her shoulder and rewire a house better than the crew from Extreme Home Makeover. Her incredible strength and self-confidence draw him in; something Cole has pretended to have for years. All he has to show for himself is his uncanny use of pick-up lines, a hand-me-down farm and some small-town rental properties. When he learns Samantha’s husband and daughter were killed by a drunk driver, the shame of his past experience with a DUI and near-death accident is the last thing he wants to mention to her.

  Samantha has no problem accepting her new boss, flaws and all. His simple life is charming and exactly what she hoped to find for herself and her son in Newhall, New Hampshire. Cole wins her over by befriending her fatherless son and making her laugh again, something she hasn’t done in four years. When she learns about his shady past with the bottle, her heart tells her to forgive, but the painful memories of her past are too deep to overlook.

  Dedication

  For my loyal, loving and supportive husband, whose heart is always in the right place.

  Acknowledgements

  First I’d like to thank the many country singers who write and sing such beautiful music. Your songs and lyrics tell the stories of relationships, love, and laughter and are comforting, soothing, and fun. They were a constant soundtrack in my house and car as I wrote and edited this book.

  I’d also like to thank the wonderful staff at Liquid Silver Books for giving this newbie her first big break. It has been an amazing experience working with all of the staff, especially Terri Schaefer who is the queen of answers. Thank you for being so kind. And the McKay-Tucker Men series wouldn’t be what it is without the editing knowledge and talent of Victoria Miller. Victoria, I’ve loved reading your hilarious comments on my manuscripts. Even when I made stupid mistakes (over and over again), you were patient and encouraging. We’ve had a lot of fun with all the Marvel character research in this book. I’m so glad I had you to lean on! My knowledge comes from a four-year-old, so I’ve really appreciated your “grown-up” perspective.

  Thank you staff at LSB for making my first experience with publishing one that I’ll always remember.

  Chapter 1

  Excited at the prospect of actually making money and not spending it, Samantha Chase replayed the message on her cell phone again. Yes, it really was a job opportunity.

  Cole Tucker—she’d seen the rental signs around the small town of Newhall, New Hampshire for Tucker Properties—left a clipped message asking her to meet him for an informal interview at a construction site over on Center Street. Dressed appropriately in jeans, work boots, and a heavy sweatshirt, Sam tied her long, blonde curls in a ponytail and plugged the address in her phone. She only had two hours to spare before she had to pick up Levi from preschool. Hopefully, Mr. Tucker wouldn’t take too long to scrutinize her.

  She expected him to laugh at her at first. Most men didn’t expect someone so small—and a female nonetheless—to lift more than ten pounds or know the difference between a torque wrench and a hammer. She had the confidence of years of experience behind her but still had jitterbugs in her belly.

  It was her constant trips to Al Goodman’s hardware store that landed her the contact. She’d spent a couple thousand dollars there in the past few months buying tile, grout, paint, wires, and shingles. Her fixer-upper had been labor intensive, and she loved every minute of it. Sam knew Al had been skeptical that a petite woman could handle the reconstruction and refurbishing projects she took on, but after curiosity got the best of him, he took a drive out to her home and was speechless, something apparently Al never was. He’d mentioned a local guy looking for cheap manual labor and instantly recommended her for the job. And here she was, heading to meet her perspective new boss.

  Sam listened to the GPS on her phone and turned on to Center Street. The duplex was easy to spot; a classic box frame home from the eighties with new white siding gleaming in the December sun. A truck that advertised Tucker Properties on its side was parked in the short driveway.

  Shutting off the ignition, Sam dabbed her lips with tinted Chapstick and hopped out of her truck. Loud country music bellowed from the right side of the duplex. Something about tequila and clothes falling off. Not exactly the song she wanted to make her entrance with.

  Her knocking didn’t stop the music or bring anyone to the door, so she turned the doorknob and let herself in, following the music, or rather the voice of the slightly off-key man singing along to the country song. Spotting the radio, Sam turned it down slightly and cleared her throat.

  “Hello?”

  The singing stopped and a man emerged from around the corner. He paused midstride and stared. Mr. Tucker was not the bald, over-weight, wrinkled man she’d expected. It had been years since she felt any type of attraction toward a man. And this one, with dark coffee-colored eyes and Patrick Dempsey dimples covered in a light scruff, did unfamiliar and unwanted things to her body.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Did what hurt?” she asked, confused.

  “When you fell out of heaven?”

  Sam raised an eyebrow and chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure of how exactly to answer. “It was a pretty big fall, but I made the landing.”

  The man tipped his head back and laughed. “So what brings a pretty little lady around this grungy old worksite?”

  Great. Already being talked down to. “We had an appointment.”

  “We did?” He took off his ball cap and ran his arm across his forehead. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember setting up a date with you.”

  “Mr. Tucker, I’m—”

  “Cole. Mr. Tucker is my dad.” He turned his baseball cap around and put it on backward, giving him a boyish charm.

  “Yes. Sorry. Cole, I’m Sam. You left a message on my phone to meet you here at nine.”

  Cole looped his thumbs in the front of a pair of jeans that were worn and torn but fit him like a glove, and rocked back on his heels, studying her from head to toe and back again. She knew what he was thinking and wanted to ward off any doubt in her abilities. “I assure you, Mr. Tucker, that I am highly qualified. Probably more so than anyone else you have working on site. I’ve been doing electrical work since I was twelve—”

  “Which was what, last year?”

  “I may be petite, but I can carry my own.” Sam placed her hands on her hips and didn’t look away from his piercing stare. “I’ve been wiring homes for over fifteen years, I can fix any plumbing problem you throw my way, I can lift more than I weigh and know my way around any power tool you have. I understand your reluctance to hire someone like me…someone a
s little as me, but since your family name is so reputable in town, I assume you’re not the type to discriminate against women; so if you want to hire me on a trial basis, I would not object.” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. He had a good ten inches on her, probably a foot, but she didn’t feel threatened.

  The man squinted down at her and rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Okay, short stuff—”

  “Sam.”

  “Okay, Sam. We’ll give it a try. I have two more windows to put in upstairs and could use a hand. You ready to work?”

  Sam looked at her watch and bit her lip. “I’ll give you an hour of free labor and then time to think about your decision.” She walked to the stairs and took two at a time, waiting for her new boss at the top. He looked reluctant but gestured to the back bedroom where she gave him the best hour of her life.

  * * * *

  Cole Tucker’s mood had picked up since the Thanksgiving Intervention. His parents surprised the hell out of him when they’d so casually announced their retirement and handed him the keys to the family farm. His brothers, successful in career and love, needed no handouts from their parents. But Cole—living in his childhood bedroom in his parents’ house and managing a few small properties around town—had nothing better going on. So he inherited the farm and the house.

  Not that he was complaining. He loved the horses, the crops. Working with his hands; whether it be fixing or building something, or giving lessons or breeding his mares, was all he ever wanted. But he didn’t deserve his family’s love, much less their compassion. He’d screwed up. Big time. A handyman at best. One with a record. One without a warm woman at his side.

  That shouldn’t bother him. He always had a revolving door of women at his beck and call. Until the accident. When he lost it all: house, license, and most importantly, his pride.

  Cole sat back in his recliner, gripping his remote, and thumbed through preview guide, but nothing piqued his interest. It still seemed unnatural to hold a remote in one hand and nothing in the other. For years, a cold brew filled his left hand, but tonight he didn’t dwell on that. Instead, his mind wandered to a short blonde with eyes that were slightly too large for her elfin face.

  The damn little thing was a spitfire. Not one to move faster than he had to, Cole had had a hard time keeping up with Sam. She’d bounced from one project to the next, seeming to know exactly what needed to be done. They’d finished installing the windows, and she had even started cutting the casing and trim work. In an hour’s time, she’d framed out four windows and told Cole she’d be by in the morning to redo some of the wiring. She’d pointed out some shoddy electrical work in the kitchen that he was sure he would have noticed when he had the chance.

  Sam had doled out unsolicited advice about flooring, plumbing and lighting choices and even went as far as suggesting he add color to the drab apartment. Yeah, Samantha Chase was some piece of work.

  And he’d give Al hell to pay for setting him up like that. He could only imagine the kick the big guy got out of hooking him up with her. But the old man was right, Sam was pretty…talented.

  Swallowing his pride, Cole picked up his phone and called his new employee. She answered on the third ring, sounding slightly out of breath.

  “Hey, it’s me. Cole.”

  “I won’t be able to work tomorrow, but I’ll be there Monday morning at eight. You did say it was part time, so I’ll have to leave before noon, but I won’t take any breaks. I’ll go in on weekends if you need me to, but I’ll—”

  “Easy now. I haven’t even offered you the job.” Cole held back the laughter that threatened to erupt.

  “Well. You should. And an hour isn’t really enough time for me to show you how capable I am. I can come in Monday morning for a few hours if you’d like, but I really can’t do anything tomorrow.”

  “Oh, an hour was plenty of time to see what you’re made of.” Cole reclined and crossed his ankles, grinning at the thought of her pert little nose scrunched up in confusion.

  “Mr. Tucker…if you’re toying with me, that’s not very fair. I am quite busy right now and don’t have time for mind games. If you’d like me to work for you please say so. Otherwise, I really must go.”

  Cute and not afraid to speak her mind. He liked that. Too much. He heard water in the background—was she in the bathtub?—inappropriate employer/employee images crossed his mind. Maybe hiring her wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Mr. Tucker?”

  “Cole. And yes, you’re hired. Monday is fine. I’ll see you then.”

  “Wonderful. Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”

  She hung up before he could do anything else, like ask her out to dinner. Or ask her if she was naked. Who was he fooling? Granted he had his license back and a new set of wheels, but since the fire in his apartment, he’d been living at his folks’ place. They moved out a few weeks ago but he still felt like an interloper. They were in the process of weeding out years and years of memorabilia, all of which Cole suggested they store in the attic, and deciding which pictures and antiques they’d bring with them to the smaller home on the other end of town.

  While he was in no hurry to kick his parents out of their home, it did make dating difficult when his parents shared a bedroom down the hall.

  He hadn’t been out on a date since…since dropping his date—Brittany something-or-other—off at her apartment and rushing to the hospital to his brother after he was nearly killed. The detour he made with the oak tree nearly cost him his life, and Cole was finally coming to terms with the reality of the real world. He needed to pull his head out of his ass and take life more seriously.

  Chapter 2

  Motherhood was a balancing act, both figuratively and literally. Sam cut two toasted waffles into bite-sized pieces and drowned the plate in maple syrup while holding her cell phone between her shoulder and cheek. “Yes, Mom. I’m listening,” she groaned and wrestled a long sleeve Tyrannosaurus Rex shirt over her son’s head then plopped his breakfast on the table.

  “I want my shark shirt!” Levi hollered.

  “It’s dirty. This one will do. Sit. Eat,” Sam whispered and grabbed her phone while working out the kinks in her shoulder. “No, I was talking to Levi. I really don’t have time to chat. We need to leave soon.” She grabbed her travel coffee mug, filled it with the hazelnut blend she loved so much from Dunkin Donuts, and stirred her oatmeal.

  “I thought preschool didn’t start until eight-thirty. Where are you heading off to so early?”

  She loved her mother, she truly did, but Sam moved three hours away so she could have her freedom. Some independence. Some air.

  “I have a job, Mom. Don’t say it,” she interrupted. “Yes, I need to work. I can’t live off insurance and the settlement for the rest of my life. Levi will be in kindergarten next year, and then what will I do with my time? I need the job. I want this.”

  Her mother sighed. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, sweetheart. You’re a good mother and a wonderful daughter. Once you find what you’re looking for at your camp, come home. Please,” she begged.

  Sam picked up the fork her son dropped and wiped the glob of syrup off his shirt. “It’s my house. It isn’t a camp. This is our new home. And if I find it here, I won’t be going back. I mean, Levi and I will always visit all of you in Connecticut, but I want Newhall to be our new home.”

  “Mommy, I got syrup on my T-rex. He’s dirty, so can I wear my shark shirt instead?”

  “No,” she said as she ruffled his hair. “Finish up. Ms. Mimi will be at school today, and she loves dinosaurs.”

  “Samantha?”

  “Sorry, Mom. I need to go. I’ll call you later. Love you.” She turned off her phone and tossed it in her bag. “Drink your milk, buddy. You don’t want to be late for preschool.” Sam’s gaze landed on Adam’s picture on the fridge, and the sense of longing made her sigh, but the photo didn’t make her sad like it used to. She actually looked forward to making a fresh sta
rt.

  “Did you put a snack in my pack-pack?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “It’s in your Batman lunch box which is in your backpack.”

  They tugged on their winter coats and hurried out to the truck. Sam lifted Levi’s little body up and strapped him in his car seat. Thankfully the daycare center agreed to let Levi come an hour early and stay an hour later so she could make a good impression on her first day of work. She and Cole never talked wages, and she was pretty sure her take home pay wouldn’t quite cover the cost of daycare, but the job wasn’t about the money.

  Happy Hearts Daycare and Preschool Center had been a godsend the past few months. Levi loved the children and workers and was especially fond of one of the elderly volunteers, Ms. Mimi. Her grandchildren were a little younger than Levi, but they all played very well together.

  After lots of hugs and kisses, she left her son in good hands and drove to her new job. She wondered what Cole had completed on Friday without her help and if he’d listened to any of her suggestions. She felt bad about coming across as a know-it-all but wanted him to know she was well educated and experienced. It didn’t really matter to her if he took her advice, only that he was aware of her keen observations and that she had talent and skill. Obviously he did or he wouldn’t have hired her. Still, she had a lot to prove. Being young, small, and a woman were three strong disadvantages, but after a few more hours—or days if it came to that—Cole Tucker would see her for the valuable asset she was.

  * * * *

  Cole took in every short inch of her assets as she hopped out of her too-big truck. What was the little lady trying to prove anyway? Driving a full size Chevy and working a man’s job? Oh, yeah. There’s something about a truck. And a girl. Her jeans fit a little more snuggly than the ones last week, and he could see the solid muscles in her quads. Not bad. He wondered what she packed under her flannel shirt. Her bouncy curls hung past her shoulders and her smile lit up her gorgeous amber eyes.