Michele Dunaway - Sweeping The Bride Away

Cassidy wanted to scream. Did no one around her understand body language? This was her career, and she was good at it. Somehow she managed to keep her voice calm. “I’m sure he’s on the clock, and I’m sure he wants to go home soon. I’ll see you at five tomorrow.”

“Five,” Lillian repeated. She let her gaze rove over Blade one last time. Cassidy bristled. Did every woman stare at him like that? Then Lillian straightened as if the moment hadn’t occurred and gave Cassidy a stern look of warning. “We need to be on time tomorrow. Monica’s is open only to us, so don’t forget. Five.”

“As if you’d let me forget,” Cassidy said under her breath after Lillian slipped through the gate in the hedge between the two side yards.

His voice was right by her ear. “So I take it that’s the infamous mother-in-law-to-be.”

“That’s her.” Cassidy whirled around and found herself facing Blade’s chest. Whoa. She took a step back “Would you care to explain what you are doing here?”

“I’m the contractor.”

Why did he upset her equilibrium so? “Yes, well, your card said you’re the president.”

He grinned, and Cassidy wished she’d never called him. “Oh, that’s a little joke Jake and I have. We own the company together. He’s also a president. But I can assure you, I’m a contractor.”

She struggled to regain control of the mess she was now in. “Well I can see that. You have a truck, and you’re dressed in—”

“They’re called carpenter whites. Whites for short.”

Cassidy swallowed. Never had a pair of dirty white pants and a dirty white T-shirt looked so good. They hinted too well at what lay beneath. And just when had he gotten so tall? And his chest so broad? She gathered her wits, and rallied.

“Well, why didn’t you say something on the phone when I called?”

His greenish-blue eyes twinkled, drowning her. “And ruin the surprise?”

She found a life preserver. “I don’t like surprises.”

His cheek dimpled as his smile curved upward. “I do, especially when it was a phone call from you. Imagine you calling me, especially after insisting you didn’t need my help last night. I thought you’d just throw my card away.”

She had, but she wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.

His voice washed over her. “Ironic isn’t it, how fate works?”

“Look, this is a business arrangement.” She stressed the word business.

He shot her another infuriating grin, as if he knew exactly what she was really thinking. “Never said it wasn’t.” He sobered his expression for a second. “Look, do you want me to do this work or not? Or would you rather hire someone else?”

Cassidy drew herself up. As if she could find another contractor on this short notice, and he knew it. After all, she only had ten business days until closing. “Fine, then. Come inside and I’ll show you what that infernal city inspector is referring to.”

With a huff she turned and walked toward the house.

IT WAS ALL BLADE COULD do to stop from humming to himself. He’d made one change to Jake’s misguided plan.

He’d borrowed one of his foremen’s trucks for the occasion, and from the expression on Cassidy’s face, it had been worth it. While Jake wanted him to reveal who he was, Blade didn’t. Why spoil her preconceived notions? No, his plan of appearing like the everyday Joe that Cassidy had pegged him for had gone off perfectly.

Blade grinned at his success. Earlier that day he’d considered Jake’s suggestion of driving his own truck, but the more he thought of it, the more he had decided not to.

She already thought he was just a blue-collar workingman. While Blade had a diesel Ford 350 himself, he knew it didn’t look like what Cassidy thought a contractor’s truck would look like, not with leather seats and being loaded with every known option.

Besides, she’d never believe his truck cost almost as much as a Corvette.

So, instead he had borrowed Frank’s truck, and of course, the forty-year-old Frank had been only too happy to exchange his work truck for Blade’s new BMW convertible, which, too, had cost a few hundred less than Blade’s truck.

“I’ll even take the wife on a date,” Frank had said with a grin. “I’ll tell her I sold the truck. It’ll pay her back for my license plate.”

Blade had laughed. Everyone knew Frank’s wife was a practical joker, and she’d gotten him the plate as a gag gift for his fortieth birthday.

Blade snapped to attention as Cassidy began talking. “This is the first predication,” she said as she came to the front steps. “He said something about needing some new boards, plus he wanted the entire front porch painted.”

“I saw that on the fax you sent,” Blade said. He reached into the pocket of his pants. “I brought it with me.”

Cassidy’s lips thinned into a slight smile. “You’re so efficient.”

“That would be me,” he replied, ignoring her slight sarcasm. Heck, he’d be a mite upset if someone had just pulled this surprise on him. However, he rationalized, he was going to fix her house, so in the end that made it all okay. And despite how pretty she was, he wasn’t going to hit on her the way she obviously thought he was.

His gaze scanned the porch. She did need a few new boards, but nothing really major. “Why don’t you show me the rest?”

“Front door needs painting,” Cassidy said as they walked through it. “All the windows need to have working sashes. Something about the springs being broken. When the city inspector lifted the one in the bay window, the whole window fell out.”

Blade nodded. “That’s not difficult. I know where to get the parts.”

“Good.” And with that, Cassidy was on a roll. Twenty minutes later Blade was certain of two things. One was that the city inspector had been overzealous in citing things that he really didn’t need to have cited. The other was that Cassidy Clayton had grown up with every possible advantage in life.

His bedroom, which he’d shared with his two older brothers, would have fit in the master bedroom closet. The master bathroom of the house, which needed all new plumbing fixtures, was bigger than the living room and kitchen where he’d grown up.

Sure he had a house about the same size now, but he’d worked and sweated for every brick. Cassidy had simply been born into it.

“That’s all of them,” she said. “Think you can have all this work done in a week?”

Blade stared at her. She’d pushed her hair behind her ears and was peering earnestly up at him. Darn, but she was pretty.

“I’m going to have to work nights to get these all finished,” he said. Where those words had come from, he would later decide that he didn’t know. They’d just slipped out. He was the boss. He could do what he wanted, and he could work days.

“You want time and a half?” She seemed shocked.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, trying to backtrack. “Jake gave you our bid already for all hours worked. No matter what time of day, fixed hourly rate. You only have about twenty hours of work.”

“So what’s the catch?”

Was there a catch? He thought about it a second and dismissed what Jake wanted him to do out of his head. “No catch. It’ll take me about four days of about five hours each. I’ll get here at four and leave by nine.”

She frowned. “Look,” he said, “That’s the best I can do. I’ve got other jobs in the queue, as well, and somehow I’m going to have to balance everything. So I won’t get here until four. But I will get your predications done and have them done before your deadline.”

The thought of him in her house at night seemed so… “I sometimes have to work at night,” Cassidy said, pushing thoughts of Blade in her house at night out of her mind. That was not a path she should tread. He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to explain, and she felt the need to. “I’m an image consultant, and depending on the day I attend dinner functions and…”