Commanding Casey

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Commanding Casey Page 4

by Nicolina Martin


  I’m not the only one stealing glances at Casey Keagan. There’s disturbance to some degree at almost every table. Everything I see proves my point. She can’t be here.

  I jerk when someone knocks on my shoulder. Max sinks his heavy body down on the chair next to me.

  “Hooper.”

  I wait for him to continue. If this is about the rookie again that I took under my wings last week, I’ll go fucking ballistic. Yes, the kid made a bad decision and it delayed us by an hour, but he’s learning, and he’s staying. I got this and I don’t need to hear it again.

  “Beanie’s been throwing up all night. He’s coming down with something.”

  “All right?” I begin to calculate who’s going to have to replace him, my mind flipping through names and skills.

  “You gotta show the mech where she can fetch her gear, tools, work clothes, all that shit. Show her the—”

  “Fuck, no. I’m busy.” I look past Max’s fat neck toward the back of the room. It’s as if she feels it because she looks up at that exact moment, meeting my gaze. I look back at Max.

  “Make time,” he says and stands, slapping my back before he grabs his jacket and disappears out the door. It’s colder today than yesterday, and the draft tears through the room before the door falls shut.

  Well, fuck. I stand and push my tray into the rack before I make my way to the annoying little mechanic. Her deep brown eyes widen as she takes me in.

  “Outside the tent in fifteen minutes.”

  She frowns. “I thought Bean—”

  “Well, he’s apparently busy hurling up his dinner. You’ll have to make do with me, if that’s good enough for the lady.”

  Her gaze darkens significantly, and she clenches her jaw. “You’re really unlucky, aren’t you? Who did you piss off this time, to get me on your neck?”

  I glance around and then lean in, putting my mouth to her ear. “Rein in that fucking attitude, girl,” I growl.

  If a look could kill, I’d fall down dead this very second. “Who do I fuck to get you off my neck?” she sneers.

  Straightening, I take in the still half full room. I’d have her up against the wall in a second if there weren’t so many witnesses. She’s pushing my every button. First I dreamed about her, jerked off to the memories of her lips, now she’s being a mouthy little bitch. She needs a good spanking and would do well abiding by some fucking rules. My rules.

  “Clock’s ticking. Ten minutes. Be on time.” I stride through the room, feeling everyone’s gazes on me before I disappear out into the cold new day.

  The beast in me has awoken. I need a drink. My cock is semi-stiff again, and all I see before me is her lush lips. I know I was fucked up. I know I numbed my grief with women and booze, but it was back then, a year and a half ago. I’ve stayed sober, I’ve quelled my sex drive. One woman is all it takes. One fucking chick, and I’m screwed.

  I do not need this.

  I’ll show her the fucking shed and the tools, and if she ever speaks to me again after that, I’ll teach her to keep her mouth shut.

  Chapter Five

  Casey

  He leaves me a mess, my heart in my throat. I glance at the clock on the wall, then I dart up.

  Fuck!

  If I run I can brush my teeth and still make it in time. I don’t dare to be late.

  Cole has a natural aura of dominance about him. It’s obvious that I’m not the only one who feels it. It’s enticing, and crazy scary. I just wish he wasn’t so pissed with me.

  I place the tray and then think better of it. I don’t have the time. Everyone looks at me as I dart through the room and out the door, someone laughs. The murmurs are shut off as soon as the door slams closed. I squint at a spotlight that shines straight into my eyes, steeling myself against the cold that immediately pinches my cheeks. I don’t see the brute. I don’t know where he disappeared to.

  I hate that I have to run around the rest of the day with unbrushed teeth. Maybe I can make time during lunch break?

  Pacing the tent opening back and forth, I wait for Cole to show up as I watch the workers scramble to get into the pickup trucks that will take them to the construction site. It’s cold as hell. I’m well-dressed today, but I still stomp my feet to keep warm. I keep glancing behind me, through the sliver of an opening, at the shelves with the parts needed to keep this construction afloat at all hours of the day. I’m really excited to get to it. I have never worked with these dimensions before, and these conditions are so different. I read up before I got here, of course, and soon there won’t even be any daylight. The few short hours will be fewer and fewer, and eventually it will be dark, and stay dark for several weeks.

  “Keagan! Stop loitering. Time to pull your weight around here.”

  I jerk when I hear Cole’s booming voice behind me and spin around, finding myself nose to chest with the hulking man. He towers over me, standing way too close. On purpose, I bet. He’s out to rattle me. I won’t let him.

  I shrug and throw out my arms. “Just point me where to go.”

  “That’s why I’m on babysitting duty,” he mutters and gestures for me to come with him into the tent. He nods toward a storage container locked with a giant padlock. “You should have the key.”

  I inhale to tell him, yet again, what I think of his behavior, but think better of it. If I do this quick, I’ll have him out of my hair soon enough. He’s trying to provoke me into wanting to leave and I refuse to give him that satisfaction. Fumbling with my thick gloves, pulling them off, I feel for the keys in my pocket, haul them up, and go to work on the padlock. Getting it open, I then swing the heavy steel bar to the side and pull open the container. The inside is slightly warmer, not room temperature, but not frosty either.

  “You saw the yellow crane outside, behind the tent. It’s gone to shit and there’s a crack in the engine block. The new part is on a shelf out there. You got tools and work gear here. Should be everything you need. Last mech quit on us when it started getting cold for real, few weeks back so we’ve got a lot of equipment that’ll need maintenance when you’re done here.”

  “It didn’t burn, right?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened. Sure you’re up for this?”

  Taking stock, I’m satisfied with what I see. Getting started on this shouldn’t be an issue. They’re well equipped.

  “Thank you for your concern, Cole. It’s sweet that you care. Did you ask the same question to your previous mechanic?”

  His closed-off expression turns into a sneer. “Just fix the fucking crane. You’re on your own.” He spins on his heels and stalk out of the container, disappearing around the corner.

  Right. Still moody as hell. Well, he isn’t my employer and I don’t need to impress him. Still I feel like I do, as if I want to win him over.

  Finding a giant, greasy overall, I pull it over my clothes and zip up. At least this part is totally familiar. I start sorting out the tools before I go in search of that engine block and something to transport it with. I know what I need. I hope they have it.

  Getting my hands dirty, I’m soon beginning to feel the joy of working again, forgetting about the outside world for a little while when I lose myself in the ins and outs of this construction site.

  * * *

  Cole

  I stomp off as if I’m a kid. Everything she says and does irks the hell out of me. Her whole existence pisses me off. My blood pressure rises as soon as I even hear her name. There’s only one pickup left and I lean against it, waiting for the last few guys to join. We always travel in the same constellation so that no one is accidentally left behind. Crossing my arms over my chest, I can’t help that my gaze is inadvertently drawn to the light that shines through the sliver of an opening between the thick tarp that make up the walls and the roof. It’s a large storage that’s got to be easy to assemble and disassemble since we’re constantly on the move, westbound along the barren land.

  When I see a movement, I move a litt
le to the side to get a better view and strain to catch what she’s up to. She pulls the tarp off the lifter and throws it to the side, inspecting the machine. Grabbing the remote, she then starts pushing one button at a time, experimenting, making the arm move up and down, backing the lifter out into the center of the room, getting it to turn left, right, and then she slams the emergency button. I can’t help liking what I see. She’s methodical, careful, making sure she knows the machine before she uses it. Grudgingly, I have to admit that maybe she doesn’t suck.

  “Cole, dude!”

  I jerk when I hear my name. The other guys are making their way into the pickup, and I hop in as well, throwing one last glance toward the tent. She’s out of sight, but from the shadow, it’s clear that she’s maneuvering the lifter and is on her way to get the engine block off the shelf.

  As we start along the newly plowed road, I wonder if we’ll get back to the news that she was squashed beneath that lump of steel and that we need a new mechanic. That would be... a shame.

  Something has shifted. Winter is coming and it’s colder than it was yesterday. At least welding produces some amount of heat and I’m not the worst off. We cram together in the office container a few at a time, quickly munching down coffee and sandwiches.

  For some reason I’m anticipating lunch more than I did yesterday, or any day before that since I got here. I tell myself it’s because I want to see her mortified with shame, having done nothing of value the whole morning.

  * * *

  On the way back, I strain to see her as we pass the tent. The hatch to the engine of the crane stands ajar, but there’s no sight of the little mechanic. It’s snowing again. She can’t fucking leave the hatch open. I’m about to get riled up, planning some well-chosen words to drop on her, when I see her climb the stairs, pull away the bar that holds up the lid, and then slam it closed. She hops down, surprisingly agile, despite her looking like the Michelin man, brushes the snow off the overall and starts toward the cantina.

  We drive all the way up to the door and everyone tries to enter at the same time, the wolves descending on the food. This work gives you a healthy appetite.

  “Max!” I walk up to the boss and slap him on the shoulder. “How’s the newbie doing? Did she fuck up the crane yet?”

  He turns and looks me over. “Why don’t you fucking ask her yourself? I’m not your errand boy.”

  Casey enters at that exact moment and it’s as if she knows I talked about her. Our eyes meet and then she immediately looks away. She spends the rest of the lunch break pretending I don’t exist. I can’t help that I keep glancing in her direction. I’m not the only one and it’s obvious that some of the guys are really hot on her ass. The leery comments aren’t as loud, but they’re there, and from her stiff stance, it’s obvious some of them get to her. It makes me feel oddly protective of the little chick.

  * * *

  “Crane’s fixed.” Max comes up and plops down next to me. “She’s survived two days, dude. She isn’t half bad.”

  I deal the last card. It’s the final round for tonight, then I’ll sleep and pray I dream of nothing.

  For some reason I’m not surprised. She was so determined and from the glimpses I’ve gotten, she’s got some skills.

  “Good. It’s about fucking time.”

  “You’ll take her to the front tomorrow, give her the tour. Let her take stock of what needs to be prioritized.”

  I freeze. “You’re not serious. You’re not planning on keeping her, are you?”

  “Cole, I don’t know what the fuck’s got your panties in a twist, but if she can do the job, she’s got a contract.”

  “Just keep her out of my face, then,” I growl and dart to my feet, slamming the cards to the table. “I’m done.” I pull the door shut behind me and fall on the bed. I’m tired and pissed, and I want to hit something.

  * * *

  Our equipment has never been so well oiled, so clean. Casey keeps her head down, works, eats, and sleeps. I can’t help feeling respect for her work morals. She’s constantly dirty, talks to no one, and does what she’s here for. I’m not the only one who takes notice and the lewd comments have begun to fade.

  At least to her face.

  What is said behind her back makes me increasingly furious. It’s been a long time since I felt this fucked up. My whole existence has shifted. Again.

  Every morning, noon, and night, she’s there, hunched over her plate in the cantina, always by herself. God only knows what she does on her day off because she’s nowhere to be seen. I catch myself wishing I hadn’t been such an ass. I’ve never seen a lonelier person. I just don’t know how to make it right after the shitty start.

  Chapter Six

  Cole

  Haden comes knocking on my shoulder when I’m just about to put the welder mask back on. “It’s Max. He wants a word.” He holds up a radio for me.

  I grab it and push the button. “Hooper here, what’s up?”

  “Got some bad news.”

  Looking toward the sky, I close my eyes and sigh. It could be anything. Max is usually pretty cool about stuff, so when he says trouble, it worries me. “What kind?”

  “We’ve got new crew coming in tomorrow. Four guys.”

  “But... that’s good news.”

  “They gotta sleep somewhere, Hooper.”

  Oh, fuck. “What’s it got to do with me?” I’m just a worker here. He’s the fucking manager. I’m not paid to solve his shit.

  “I need to move around some people. Keagan can’t have a whole trailer to herself.”

  I’m still waiting for the punchline. “And...?”

  “There aren’t a lot of guys I’d wanna put her with.”

  I have a bad feeling about this.

  “And you’re a responsible, decent kinda dude. Married, kids.”

  “Divorced,” I mutter.

  “Whatever. I’m putting you with her.”

  “The fuck you are!”

  “Hooper. I gotta solve this. You’re the only one I fully trust not to... You know. Well, you two clearly stay out of each other’s way, and I think that’s a good match.”

  “We stay out of each other’s way for a good reason. She hates my guts, and I don’t think she has any business being here.”

  “She’s doing good work.”

  I groan, rip off my glove, and rub my face. “Have you fucking changed your mind, Max? I thought we agreed on getting her off the site?”

  Max is too silent.

  “Max?”

  “Those are my final words. Pack up your stuff tonight and move your ass. I’ll inform the chick.”

  “Max.”

  Silence.

  “Max!” I meet Haden’s gaze. He raises an eyebrow.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I say and hand him back the radio. “Fuck.”

  “Hot” he says. “She’s eating you up, you know. With her eyes. When you aren’t looking.”

  “The fuck she is.”

  Haden lifts a corner of his mouth, slips the radio into its holder, and turns. I pull the mask back on, slapping it down over my face and light up. The rest of the afternoon, I weld, curse, see her before me, fight the rage, weld, think through what I need to pack, weld some more, and consider looking for another job. Oil platform somewhere far off, maybe?

  I freeze up when I enter the cantina. I expected to see her, of course, sitting in her usual spot, alone by the far wall, but knowing that from tonight I’ll be sharing a trailer with her, that tiny space where we sleep and shower, and that she’ll be within arm’s reach too many hours of the day makes it seem as if she’s lit by a spotlight.

  She hunches over her plate and doesn’t look up, but she knows I’m here. Her posture stiffens. She doesn’t want this any more than I do. That’s good at least. Maybe we can manage to stay out of each other’s way and work this out? I still have my eyes on her as I move toward the counter with the canteens and suddenly, she looks up. Her gaze is curious, wary, filled with questions. R
aising my eyebrows, I give her a half-shrug. I have no answers.

  The guys at the table slap my back and hoot when I sit. “Shut the fuck up,” I growl.

  “I’d change with you in a heartbeat,” says Pierce and throws a leery gaze toward Casey.

  His words and his whole demeanor make me want to punch his fucking face and awaken my every protective instinct. I suddenly know why Max picked me. I’m one of the few who’ll leave her the fuck alone.

  Stuffing the food, I go to stack the tray in the rack and when I turn I almost bump into her. Her tray wobbles and on reflex I steady it. We’re both holding it, our hands so close that I feel the heat from her skin, our eyes locking. Her gaze is vulnerable for a moment, then she closes her face, her expression turning neutral. Her eyes do me in, like they always do. That’s one of many reasons I stay the fuck away. I let go as if I burnt my hands and brush past her, my heart pounding. I guess I can hang with the guys, playing cards until it’s time for bed. I don’t have to actually spend any time with her.

  “Cole,” she says, but I ignore her. I have things to do. I don’t have to ask which trailer is hers. I know it all too well.

  Her light shines every morning. She’s as much of an early bird as I am. That’s going to be yet another issue.

  “Look, I’m sorry, I—” I don’t hear whatever else she wants to say as I drop the door closed behind me.

  * * *

  Casey

  My stomach is in knots when I stuff my tray in the rack. I keep stealing glances over my shoulder at Cole’s retreating back. He hasn’t said a word to me since he left me outside Max’s office two weeks ago, and now he’s moving in. This will be hell and for the first time I’m really considering getting out of here. But I can’t breach the contract. I’ve got three and a half more months and I’ll be sharing that narrow space with one of the hottest men on Earth, who also hates me more than anyone I’ve ever met.

 

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