Finish What We Started

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Finish What We Started Page 3

by Amylynn Bright


  She was funny and obviously smart, considering that she was well on her way to being a doctor.

  When the bartender yelled for last call, Candace checked her phone again, then frowned.

  “Are you all right?” Mark asked her.

  “You don’t have a ride home, do you?” Lee concentrated on her expression while she scanned her messages for the zillionth time. “I’m happy to give you one. A ride.”

  She shoved her phone in her purse. “I should call a cab.”

  “Really,” Lee assured her. “That’s not necessary. I’m happy to do it.”

  “Well...” She looked like she wanted to agree.

  “Text someone my name and license plate.” Lee raised his hands up, palms out. “No touching, I promise.”

  “Go with Lee,” Mark told her with his friendly grin. “Unless you want to go on my motorcycle.”

  Candace shook her head. “I’m not a motorcycle kinda girl.”

  Mark extended his hand to her. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Congratulations again.” Once her head was turned, he gave Lee a comical grin and stuck out his tongue. “Drive safe.”

  Lee helped her gather her papers and waited while she adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. He fist-bumped his brother. “Later, man.”

  He followed the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen in person out of the crap hole college bar and carefully kept his gaze on her hair, although the lower view was tempting. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and he’d absolutely meant every syllable when he said there would be no touching.

  * * *

  Lee led her to an old blue pickup.

  Candace had only hesitated for a second when he had offered to drive her home. She’d texted all three of her older brothers and not one of them had texted her back. God only knew what they were doing all night, but whatever it was, it wasn’t rescuing her. She didn’t even bother to try her younger brothers. Cary was probably drunk at some frat party, and Calvin was probably grounded with no car privileges. That’s where Cal usually was, anyway.

  She was kidding herself. She wanted to spend some more time with this guy to see where it led. He was funny, charming and interesting, and she was more intrigued than she’d been in a long, long time.

  “All in?” Lee asked then closed the door on his truck leaving her alone in the cab as he made his way around to the driver’s side.

  That was why she’d accepted his offer of a ride. She really could’ve gotten a cab, but he and his brother had been unfailingly polite. Of course, that’s what they’d said about Ted Bundy, too, but she usually had very good instincts about this sort of thing. Neither of them had made any reference to her being beautiful and that carried a lot of weight where she was concerned. Nothing turned her off faster than some guy gushing about her face or her hair or her body before he even bothered to learn her name. She’d already had a lifetime of that by the time she’d hit puberty.

  “Head over to campus. I live nearby.”

  He fired up the truck and headed in the right direction. “So who was it you were hoping would text you tonight? A boyfriend?”

  “One of my brothers. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I didn’t hear from any of them.” The truck was dusty inside and there was a hammer on the floor.

  “Any?” he asked, and adjusted down the air conditioning. It was still plenty warm out, even this late at night. “How many is any?”

  “I only tried three of them.”

  At the stop light, Lee turned to her. “Three? Are you telling me there are more than three? Are they vicious sorts, these three brothers?”

  She thought of her brothers, Clay, Casey, Cliff, Cary and Calvin. Bossy, controlling and unmanageable, yes, but not vicious. “Hardly. Unless you’re planning something nefarious. Then all bets are off.”

  “Nope. This is a simple drop-off procedure,” he told her. “We’ll see how you behave yourself. Maybe I’ll ask for your number, but I don’t plan to do it in a nefarious way.

  She tried not to make it obvious that she was looking at him. When they shook hands, his hand engulfed hers. Thick fingers and rough palms. A working man’s hands. The three-quarter sleeves of his baseball jersey left off just below his elbow, revealing ropey muscles and thick wrists. He was tan, but he’d said he worked construction, so of course he was. His hair was magnificent—probably not a word he would appreciate, but she couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. Inky black, wavy and impossibly thick. She knew girls who would kill for his hair. His eyebrows were the same, dense black slashes across his forehead. Eyelashes to die for framed brilliant green eyes. On any other man, those eyes might have been considered pretty.

  Lee’s brother had been cute in a big kid kind of way. Lee was the type of masculine that made her girl parts attentive.

  “That’s good to know.” Megan’s shorts were killing her. All night they’d been too tight and now they were riding up in the most inconvenient way. She wished she could slip her finger under the leg and adjust her panties, but she didn’t how to do it without being obvious. She wiggled a little. The silk was trying to cut her in half.

  “You okay over there?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  She’d been caught. How freaking embarrassing. Just what every woman wanted to have happen when alone with a hot guy. “Actually no. These shorts are killing me.”

  “At risk of sounding nefarious, I’ll tell you they’re killing me too.”

  She laughed. “They’re not mine.” When he took his eyes from the road to toss her a quizzical look, she explained, “Remember my drunk friend? These are her shorts. She left with my jeans on.”

  “Why are you wearing her shorts? Not that I have a problem with that.”

  “Remember how I said they entered me in the contest? It was all part of their evil plan. They made me give up my jeans for Meg’s shorts. You know, to showcase the booty in Booty Girl.” She felt like an idiot explaining this to him.

  “Obviously an excellent plan.” He turned left and kept his eyes on the road.

  “Yeah, well, now they’re making every effort to cut me in half.”

  He choked out a laugh. “What’s your oldest brother’s name?”

  “Clay.”

  “Would Clay kick my ass if I suggested that you could remove them as, you know, a lifesaving measure?

  “Clay is a jerk like that.”

  “Better not, then. Instead, I’ll promise to close my eyes while you correct some things down there.”

  “You’re driving.”

  “Best be quick, then.” He made a big show of putting his hand over his eyes.

  She hiked up her hips and fixed the wedgie. “Done. You can look now.”

  He turned and looked at her through a major gap in his fingers. “I was peeking at the road the whole time.”

  “I won’t tell Clay.”

  “Hey, here’s a plan. How about you have Clay beat up Mark? That way I don’t have to.” They pulled to a stop at another red light.

  “Why are you beating up Mark?” If they had a relationship anything like her own brothers did, then they were probably whacking each other all the time for no damn reason.

  He propped his elbow on the back of the seat and turned towards her while they waited. “For whatever he told you tonight.”

  She raised her eyebrows and gave him a knowing grin. “That’s exactly what he said you’d say.”

  Those black slashes of eyebrow came together on his forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “He came up to my table when the PR person left and introduced himself to me. He said that he wasn’t there to hit on me. Instead he was only there to piss off his brother. He promised that if I talked with him for a few minutes it would make you crazy.”

  The look he gave her had fifty-se
ven layers of meaning. “Are you kidding me?”

  She laughed. “No.”

  “What else did he say?”

  She waved her hand in a vague way. “You know, brother stuff.” Mark had also told her that while his brother was reserved, he was also a great guy. When she’d turned to see who Mark was talking about, Lee had been glaring at his brother with intent malice, but it had melted away the minute he’d caught her looking at him. His half smile had been charming and sheepish, not calculating. Not like almost every other male in the bar that night. She and Mark had settled into an easy conversation that had absolutely nothing to do with the contest, her looks, or his desire for her. Instead, he’d told her about Lee. How they’d won their baseball game that day, and they’d come to the bar to celebrate. He said Lee had hit a homerun and two triples. He casually mentioned that his brother had never done time, voted in elections—even the stupid ones for city council—and had recently purchased Adventure Girl cookies from the local troop in order to show that he believed in women’s rights and approved of cookies.

  The light turned green and Lee redirected his attention to the road. “Interesting.” From the way he said it, she was pretty sure Mark was about to be in serious trouble.

  “Your brother is an outstanding wingman, you know.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Candace laughed. “So which are your favorite cookies?”

  If the bizarre segue caught him off guard, he didn’t show it. “Why do I need a favorite? I believe in equal opportunity when it comes to cookies.”

  “I don’t like the mint ones.” She tossed it out there just to see what he’d say. Everyone liked those. It was a law or something.

  He grinned at her. “More for me, then.”

  He asked her about her classes, which ones were her favorites, and what made her want to be a veterinarian. He paid attention to her answers and asked intelligent follow up questions. He was never presumptuous or superficial. Other than the flirty banter about her shorts situation, he’d not made a single lewd or suggestive comment.

  They arrived at her apartment building much too soon.

  “That’s my apartment on the upper left.” She pointed to a window on the third floor. It was an old building, modest but clean. Populated by mostly med students, either human or animal, it was also relatively quiet.

  Lee pulled the truck into a parking space and hopped out. She watched with amazement as he came around the hood and opened her door for her.

  “Thanks.” She rewarded him with a huge smile and swung her legs down.

  “You’re welcome.” He grinned back. She wanted to kiss him there in the parking lot under the hazy yellow glow of a waning flood light.

  “Can I walk you up? In case of werewolves or something.”

  A chuckle bubbled up from the bottom of her throat. “Werewolves?”

  He shrugged and looked impossibly sexy in the dark. He was tall. She was darn close to six feet with her wedge sandals, and he was still another inch or two taller. His shoulders were wide and rounded with muscles that looked like they came from hard work, not hours in a gym.

  Instead of running her hand down his chest like she wanted to—just to see if he was muscular there, too, purely as a curiosity because she was studying anatomy—she turned toward the building. There were textbooks waiting for her, and she didn’t have time for the distraction of a hot guy right now.

  “Here you are.” They reached the gate and paused. “Home safe, as advertised, with absolutely no touching.”

  “Oh.” She felt stupidly disappointed.

  “Can I take you out sometime?”

  Candace hadn’t felt giddy about a guy in...forever. Half the time she couldn’t remember to buy bread and milk, her head was so full of skeletal systems and toxicity mnemonics. But, it wasn’t every day a drop-dead sexy guy with irreproachable manners rescued her from a cab ride home. She’d have to be dead not to be a little revved up.

  “Yeah.” She nodded and looked in his eyes. “I’d like that.”

  “How about Thursday night?”

  Her huge test was on Friday morning. By that evening, she’d be desperate for a conversation that didn’t involve neoplastic fungal diseases. “I have a huge test the next morning. How about Friday?” Her smile was probably too big, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Great.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll call you this week.”

  She gave him her cell number.

  Then she kissed him, because she’d never promised no touching.

  Chapter Three

  Present Day

  Lee was sitting in his truck, on the phone with the lumber company. The trusses had been delivered to the clinic site but two were missing, and the guy on the other end of the phone was playing dumb.

  “Not Tuesday. You need to deliver them today. Don’t try to pull this shit with me, Ronnie.” He pulled his cap off and ran the heel of his free hand across his forehead. Ronnie dithered, put him on hold, then finally came back with assurances the missing lumber would be delivered that afternoon.

  “It better be or I’m coming down there.” He stabbed the end button with his finger, then tossed the cell on the seat. After jamming the Rockets hat back on his head, he hopped out of the truck, then walked across the dusty lot to where the framers were standing around in a clump, drinking coffee and bullshitting. He promised the missing wood was coming, then sent them back to work.

  Before he could get away, the plumbing subcontractor pulled up and they reviewed the mechanical plans. The building inspector, who was down the street, stopped by to chat. That was a little weird, but Lee took the time to shoot the breeze since it paid to keep on the guy’s good side. All of these things took time and he was getting way behind schedule. There were two other sites he needed to visit before lunch and it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

  Especially not when Dr. Carl Claesson’s car pulled up next to the truck. A visit from the man wasn’t unexpected, but seeing Candace in the passenger seat gave him an instant headache. It was obvious they’d be seeing a lot of each in the next couple of months, and they were going to have to slog through it like adults.

  He lifted his hand. “Doctors Claesson.”

  “We’re not here to pester,” the elder Claesson said with a smile. “We were just passing by and wanted to see how things were coming.”

  “Anytime.” Lee shook the man’s hand. “There’s not really much to see yet, beyond the slab.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Candace emerge from the car. She peered at the beginnings of her clinic, studiously avoiding looking in his direction.

  He would have thought that after all this time they could act like adults. Fine. With a perverse burst of spite, he turned to face her. “We’re going to need to get together soon to pick out tile and paint and stuff. Do you want to do that here or in your father’s office?”

  Candace looked to her father, but he was already wandering off. She kept staring in that direction. “It doesn’t matter. Here, I guess.”

  “Great. How about Wednesday at two?” He barreled on, sort of enjoying feeling just a little like a bully. “I’ll collect some samples and you can see what you like.”

  There was some hesitation, probably while she tried to figure out how to get the upper hand. Sorry, not this time, sweetheart. He volleyed another series of questions. “Do you have a color scheme in mind? A beige or maybe something more vivid? What about the tile? Ceramic or granite?” When she didn’t answer, he fisted his hands on his hips. “Have you given this any thought at all?”

  Turning to face him, she narrowed her eyes. “Every day of my life since I was eight.”

  He sighed. Yes, he was oh-so-aware of exactly how driven this woman was. He also realized he was being a dick. It was time to back off. After all, t
his was her job and she and her father were his customers.

  He dialed back the aggressive sarcasm and gave her a gentle grin. “Right. I’ll find some things I think you’ll like and meet you here. Is two o’clock good?”

  Damn it, they should be able to have a civil conversation with each other. No, they should be able to be polite. Five years was a long time. He was over it. She should be, too. He’d dealt with difficult customers before, and he could be a professional if it killed him.

  * * *

  Candace got to the site at exactly two o’clock. She timed it specifically so there would be no lingering. Make the color decisions and get the hell out. That was the plan. If he was professional, she could be too. But she had no problem going several bare-knuckled rounds if that was what he was looking for. And really, if she was being honest with herself, it would probably feel satisfying to put him in his place. She’d loved him once and he’d screwed with her head. Payback was a bitch.

  She was sitting on the trunk of her borrowed car, parked a bit away from the rest of the construction vehicles, and reading the latest Veterinarian Today when he pulled his pickup next to her, five minutes late. He hauled a box out of the cab, opened the tailgate, then plunked it down with a thud. “Hey,” he said with a grin. “Am I late?”

  She shrugged like she didn’t care what the hell he did. “A couple minutes.” She stood and tossed the magazine through the driver’s window.

  “Sorry. Today has been crazy. As usual.” He grinned at her but she didn’t respond. There was no way she was making this easy on him. Being professional didn’t mean she had to be a pushover. “Okay, so I teased you about it before, but have you given any further thought to the color scheme?”

  She shook her head and approached the open bed of his truck. Peered into the box. “Wow. This is a little intimidating.”

 

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