by Mitzi Kelly
She cleared her throat. “That still doesn’t answer my question. Why were you waiting for me?”
“Because,” he said, drawing the word out as though she were an infant, “you said you wanted to start working on your bathroom this weekend, and I’m here to help. Of course, I would have waited an hour or so before coming over had I known you were going out gallivanting so early this morning.”
She blinked. “You’re here to help?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “But first things first. After waiting so long, I’m hungry. Did you pick up breakfast stuff by any chance?”
She circled her car and opened the back door. “Nope. I didn’t go to the grocery store. I have leftover pizza or cereal. Take your pick.” She reached in her car and pulled out two bags.
He looked at the logo on the bags. “You went to the hardware store?”
“Yeah, I needed some supplies. Get that other bag, will you?”
He sighed, grabbed the bag from her back seat, and followed her to the door. “Pizza it is, then.”
Jack performed his usual boisterous welcoming ritual when they entered the house, and Ginger, familiar now with the dog’s height and strong body, expertly avoided tripping over him as she made her way to the kitchen. “Just set the stuff here.” She placed her own bags on the counter. “You can heat up your pizza in the microwave while I go change into work clothes.”
“Your innate hosting talents amaze me,” Greg muttered as he tried to command Jack to keep all four of his paws on the floor.
Ginger closed her bedroom door to the sound of Greg puttering around in the kitchen. Smiling, she pulled off her shirt and headed for the closet. Surprising how natural it felt for him to show up unannounced and simply fall into whatever was going on at the moment. He was just so comfortable to be with.
It was that way when she had first met him and he had helped her with Jack. She tugged an old tank top over her head and donned a pair of shorts in place of her jeans. Slipping her feet into tennis shoes, she remembered also his thoughtful gesture in following her home last night, in helping her jump her car the other day when the battery died, and now, remembering her comments about working in her bathroom, he had come to help.
If he played the field and didn’t care about anybody, as Gerald had intimated, then why would he be so thoughtful and considerate? The man came across as just too naturally kind. She prayed she was right and that he did not lead women on for ulterior motives because she was discovering the more she got to know Greg Tucker, the more she really…liked him.
Ginger exited her bedroom. The house was quiet, and the kitchen was empty. Surely, Greg wouldn’t have left without even saying goodbye, would he? No, of course not. She looked on the countertops and the dinette table for a note but found nothing. Out of curiosity, she opened the microwave and then grinned. Two slices of warm pizza sat on a paper plate. Greg must have changed his mind about the pizza and run out to grab something a little more appetizing. With a shrug, she pulled out the plate. Pizza might not be the breakfast of champions, but the aroma had her mouth watering.
Taking a healthy bite, she walked to the back door to let Jack in. But when the spoiled dog wasn’t panting at the door as usual, she stepped out on the patio and chewed thoughtfully as she debated her decision to work inside. It was promising to be a gorgeous day, and she could understand why Jack was happy to stay outside.
She was about to call out when movement on the far side of the yard caught her attention. Her eyes widened, and she grinned. She took a small step back so she could peer around the corner of the patio without being seen. Greg hadn’t left at all. He was busy giving Jack some kind of training lesson, and the sight was adorable. Evidently, her dog wasn’t the smartest cookie in the jar, but his enthusiasm was sure to score high points, along with Greg’s patience.
After making the dog sit, Greg walked backward a few steps with his hand outstretched while repeating the word stay. Jack would do fine for a minute, but then his tail would start wagging, and his right front paw would lift as if he wanted to wave. Then, within mere seconds, Jack would charge toward Greg with all the gleeful energy of a puppy. Greg braced himself against the onslaught, gently scolded the dog, and then the process would start again.
Ginger watched for a few more minutes. It was anybody’s guess who would win the battle of wills, but since they were both headstrong males, it could be quite a while before either one of them yelled uncle.
It suddenly dawned on her that Greg would be expecting to eat his pizza when he came back in. She looked at the half-eaten slice in her hand. Uh-oh. She opened the microwave and placed the slice back on the plate.
By the time Greg came back inside with Jack happily following at his heels, Ginger had emptied the bags and placed the supplies she bought on the counter. She chuckled when she saw Greg’s expression. “I take it Jack won.”
“Yep.” He walked to the sink to wash his hands. “He won this round, but I’ve only begun to fight. I’ll wear him down eventually.” Jack plopped down in his favorite corner. Ginger was pretty sure her four-legged friend was laughing.
“If you say so.”
“Do I hear doubt in your voice?” Greg asked as he dried his hands on a paper towel and headed toward the microwave.
She ducked her head and busied herself organizing the ceramic tile samples she’d chosen for her bathroom counter. “Umm…no. I don’t doubt you. What I’d like to know, though, is what are you training Jack to do?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she risked sneaking a peek at him. He was looking at her with raised eyebrows, holding the plate with one-and-a-half slices of pizza on it.
She burst into laughter and held her hands up. “Hey, I thought you had left to find something better to eat. You’ll learn never to leave food unattended around here if you want it for yourself.”
“No respect, no respect at all,” he complained as he came up beside her and held the plate out.
She took the half-eaten slice without any hesitation.
He bit into his own slice. “For your information,” he said, placing his hip against the counter and crossing his long legs, “I’m going to teach your dog not to go crazy whenever you come home. He is too big, and he could hurt you. He needs to learn some manners.”
“Good luck. I’ve been trying to calm him down, but I haven’t made any progress yet. I think he’s worried when he’s left alone, nobody will come back for him.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. If you want my opinion, I think you’ve already spoiled him rotten. He’s just like a kid. Give him some discipline, and he’s going to thrive.”
“You know what they say about opinions, don’t you? They’re like—”
“I know, I know.” He laughed. Turning, he swallowed the last of his pizza and rinsed the plate in the sink. “By the way,” he said a little too casually, “has anyone told you about our annual company picnic yet?”
She looked at him, but his gaze was on the plate he was rinsing. “Becky mentioned something about it. I know it’s coming up soon, and she was sorry she would be missing it. Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It’s the weekend after next. We invite our subcontractors, our commercial clients, and their families. It’s an all-day event with a softball game followed by a big barbeque, and this year we’re having live entertainment for those who want to listen to good music and dance.”
“Wow, sounds like a really big affair. Is there anything I can do to help prepare for it?”
“Nope. Everything has pretty much been taken care of. We rent a space at the big park by the zoo, and there will be water, sodas, and beer along with the meal, which we have catered from a local barbeque joint. They will do the cooking on sight, and the smell will keep you hungry all day. There will be activities for the kids, and we pay for anyone who wants to visit the zoo. The main event is the softball game, though. I’m assuming you know how to play, don’t you?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You
expect me to play?”
“Well, of course. With Becky gone, we’re going to need a second baseman.”
“With all the men I’m assuming are going to be at the picnic, you’re asking me to play?”
“Well, it’s sort of expected. You didn’t read that part of the employment package either, did you? It states you have to play an assigned position every year on the softball team right along with your normal duties of making coffee and taking messages.”
She turned slowly and looked at him. His eyes widened and his lips twitched. He looked poised to run if she displayed any sign of punching him. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “I must have missed that part about the softball team and the coffee, but I’ll make you a deal. I’ll gladly play second base for the team, and then when we’re up to bat and I hit a home run, you will make the coffee for one month straight.” It was a moot bet because so far Justin had made coffee every morning, but she wasn’t about to let Greg get away with his teasing.
“Deal.” He grinned. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
She rocked back and forth on her heels. “Let’s just say the only thing I do better than painting is swinging a bat.” And that was not far from the truth. She had played softball all through high school and college, her teams winning many championships. Her specialty was pitching, but she wasn’t afraid to cover second base. She had always loved softball and was actually looking forward to an opportunity to play.
He cocked his head. “Hmm…a woman of many talents, I see.”
“And don’t you forget it, buster.”
“I’m not likely to. I’m still trying to figure out how you’ve managed to do all this work on your house by yourself.”
She struck a pose and flexed the muscles in her arms. “How do you think I developed these? These are not wussy arms, you know,” she said with a smirk.
He coughed. “No, they most certainly are not.”
“The work is hard, but I enjoy it. Most of it is not too bad, but hanging sheetrock over my head is my least-favorite job. I have to rent one of those machines that will raise each sheet to the ceiling so I can screw it in place. It’s very time-consuming, but it gets the job done.”
“Very impressive. And what about texturing and all the trim work?”
“The garage is full of power tools. I also have an air-compressor, two electric saws, and a hopper to apply texture. I could set up my own hardware store if I wanted to.”
He shook his head. “You really are an amazing woman, Ginger Carmichael.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, kind sir. Flattery will get you everywhere. However, me doth think you are spewing such flowery words to delay the start of our worldly chores.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And it ain’t gonna happen. Follow me.” She picked up several of the tile samples and headed down the hallway.
He laughed before copping an accent. “Yes, my lady.”
It took almost half an hour for Ginger to choose which tile she liked best. Finally, she sat down on the edge of the bathtub and gave a satisfied smile. “It’s going to be beautiful. You’re more help than I thought you’d be.”
“Thank you…I think.” His lips twisted in a wry grin.
She laughed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just surprised at your ability to match colors, and that you can so easily envision exactly the look I’m going for. I honestly would never have thought using that particular shade of sage would look so elegant and blend so perfectly with the rose color in the bedroom. If this construction thing doesn’t work out for you, you could always get a job in interior design, you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I think I’m more cut out for construction. You’re lucky I’m here to offer my services.” He stuck his nose in the air. “There are people who would feel extremely honored to have my personal attention. I suggest you use me while you can.”
Her swallow echoed off the walls. She could imagine several ways in which to use him. She leaned over and picked up the sample tile she’d chosen, studying it as though she were seeing it for the first time. In the confined space of the bathroom, his special scent of soap and musk had teased her senses, heightening the atmosphere as Greg held tile samples up against the backdrop of paint and floor colors she had chosen. It had been fairly easy, though, to tamp down her awareness of him due to the friendly jesting and knowledgeable suggestions he made as they worked, but now that the selections had been chosen, the very air in the small space tingled with tension.
He was a big man, not only in his physical presence, but also by the force of his personality and his thoughtful nature. She could not recall ever meeting someone quite like him. With his astounding good looks, he could easily be conceited and arrogant, but it didn’t appear he had either of those unsavory characteristics. Surely, he had much better things to do than to help his new employee with her house repairs, and yet he’d come over unannounced, without any coaxing, to offer his expertise.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
She raised her head. “What? Oh…um, no,” she said when he nodded toward the tile in her hand. “I’m very pleased with the tile choice. I’m just starting to feel guilty about taking up so much of your time. I remember you were working on your own house the day I met you. I’m sure you’d rather be tackling your own projects on your days off.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. “One thing you’ll learn about me is that unless it’s related to work responsibilities, I never do anything I don’t want to do. I do not have an altruistic bone in my body, so stop feeling guilty. Besides, how do you know I’m not checking out your skills before I try to coerce you into helping me with my house?”
She started to laugh, the glint in his eye proof he was only teasing, but suddenly the idea began to take shape, and before she even considered the wisdom of her words, she said, “Greg, that’s a fantastic idea! I could help you work on your house in exchange for all you’ve done for me. That arrangement would wipe out all the guilt.”
“Whoa.” He shook his head. “I was only kidding. First of all, I don’t need any help, second, I don’t want you to feel any guilt, and finally, I haven’t done that much here.”
She gave him an impish grin. “I know. I’d be thanking you in advance.”
“I’m serious, Ginger. I am not going to let you work on my house. I have two brothers, and we all work on it when we can. We knew it was going to take time to get the house in shape, and we’re not in any big hurry. Believe me, I haven’t neglected my house to help you with yours.”
She tilted her head. “How long have you owned the house?”
“A little over a year now. Why?”
“Because from what I can tell just seeing the exterior, you’ve barely scratched the surface on the work that has to be done. I think you and your brothers are too busy to get it done in a timely fashion. Don’t forget, I know all the projects Tucker Construction is involved with, and there are more coming up in the very near future. Either you let me help where I’m able, or I can’t let you work on my house.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “I’m not saying your help wouldn’t be an asset. However, just imagine how it’s going to affect my reputation having a beautiful woman help me. There are some attractive, single women in my neighborhood, and quite by accident, I’ve been able to schedule working outside when they’re home. If they see you, I won’t be getting any more glasses of iced tea.”
She pursed her lips. “Hmm…I see your problem. Well, you’re just going to have to figure something out. Maybe you could stick me around in the back of the house so I don’t mess up your mating ritual.” She wasn’t sure just how much of what he said was exaggerated, but she was a little surprised at how the thought of attractive women fawning over him affected her.
She placed the tile on the edge of the counter and dusted off her hands. “Speaking of iced tea, I think I’ll make some.” She started to walk past him when her foot accidentally
kicked a box of the heavy floor tile, and she lost her balance.
Immediately his arm came out to steady her. “Careful there, are you okay?”
No, she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. She was pulled up tight against Greg’s chest, and the jolt of electricity that shot through her caused her breath to stick in her throat. Her eyes jerked up to his. His dark eyes narrowed, and she felt his indrawn breath.
Dropping her gaze, she cleared her throat. “Um…I’ll go make that tea.” She pulled away from him and hurried from the room on legs made of rubber.
Chapter Seven
Greg pulled into the parking lot Friday morning, whistling one of his favorite tunes. This past week had been incredibly busy. It had also been revealing. He discovered he didn’t mind going into the office near as much as he used to. Ginger was always cheerful with a ready smile regardless of any issues that might flare up.
She was also garnering a positive reputation with the subcontractors who appreciated her knowledge of the construction industry. He never got tired of seeing the surprised expression of a tradesman who tried to impress her with the technicalities in their specific field only to become tongue-tied when she proved she was more than capable of participating in the conversation.
He climbed out of his truck. Anybody who knew him would be shocked to find out he’d foregone the usual party scene last weekend to work on Ginger’s house, and he’d actually enjoyed himself. With Ginger, it didn’t feel like work. She made it fun with her quirky stories of growing up with her construction-minded father and her intelligent comments on current affairs.
He also appreciated the fact she didn’t dress up in heels and pearls to impress him while they applied glue to the walls in order to install ceramic tile. As far as he could tell, she couldn’t care less what he thought about her appearance while they worked. And this woman definitely worked hard. She didn’t shy away from the difficult tasks, she didn’t try to cut any corners, and she was physically able to perform the tasks she tackled.
