Cathy Thacker - The Long, Hot Texas Summer

Embarrassed that it had taken him this long to correct her misconception, Justin explained without rancor. “Because this isn’t the Lost Pines you’re looking for.”

A flicker of indecipherable emotion flashed in those beautiful eyes. She regarded him skeptically, seeming to think he was trying to pull something over on her. “But how can that be? The sign above the gate said this is the Lost Pines Ranch.”

“The sign’s on the long list of things waiting to be changed.” A new one had been ordered but wasn’t coming in for another month. Which meant he would continue to have these mix-ups with nonlocals.

“Are you sure I’m not in the right place?” she asked with a frown. “Because...”

Justin shook his head, a little disappointed that this beautiful amazon would not be settling in for a long stay. He turned and pointed in the opposite direction. “What you want is the Lost Pines Campground, which is another three miles down the road, next to the Lake Laramie State Park. But...” What the heck, why not? Just this once he was going to go for what he wanted. Which was a little more—make that a lot more—time with this sun-kissed beauty. “Once you get set up there, Amanda, I’d be happy to take you to dinner.”

* * *

THIS WAS, AMANDA BLISS JOHNSON thought, the most bizarre encounter she’d ever had. Even if the tall rancher with the shaggy chestnut-brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes was the hottest guy she had ever come across in her life. From the massive shoulders and chest beneath that chambray shirt, to his long muscular legs, custom-boot-encased feet—and ringless left hand—everything about him broadcast Single and Available.

Which meant Strictly Off-Limits to her.

She wished she’d left her sunglasses on so he wouldn’t see her dazzled expression. “First off,” she told him crisply, “I don’t date customers.”

Now it was his turn to look shocked. “Customers! What are you talking about?”

Amanda pushed on. “You called for a carpenter, right? At least, Libby Lowell-McCabe, the CEO of the Lowell Foundation and chairwoman of the board for the Laramie Boys Ranch, did. She said it was an emergency. That your previous carpenter quit with no notice and you only have four weeks to get the bunkhouse ready for occupancy.” She paused to draw a breath. “I emailed her back that I’d be willing to help y’all out, but only if I could keep my travel trailer on the property so I wouldn’t have to waste time commuting back and forth to San Angelo.”

Amanda fought her racing pulse and tried to stay calm. “But if that’s not going to work, I guess I could park my Silversteam at the campground. Assuming, of course, they have a space available. Since it’s the busy summer season, they may not.”

He lifted a hand. “You don’t have to do that.”

Amanda folded her arms in front of her. “Sure about that? Because just now you seemed dead set against me camping here.”

He flashed a slow, disarming smile. “That’s because I thought you were a tourist, not an apprentice.”

Apprentice? Strike two for the handsome Texan! “I’m not the apprentice,” Amanda said tightly, her temper rising. “I’m the master carpenter.”

He pulled the paper out of his pocket and squinted at it as if he couldn’t believe the words in front of him. Then his head lifted and he speared her with an incredulous gaze. “You’re A. B. Johnson Jr.?”

Amanda wondered if it took him this long to process everything. “Amanda Bliss Johnson. Junior’s the nickname I got at work.”

“You want me to call you Junior?” he asked, with a hint of humor in his low baritone.

“Or Amanda.” She waved a hand. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.” What did was getting this gig. It would allow her to settle in this ruggedly beautiful place for an entire month before moving on to her next rural job.

Justin McCabe continued to contemplate her as if he either didn’t believe she could really be an ace carpenter or wasn’t going to be comfortable having a woman undertake such a large job.

Amanda sighed.

Great, just great. She’d gotten up at the crack of dawn to put the finishing touches on a built-in bookcase for a very fussy client, then spent hours getting all her stuff packed up and driving all the way out here. Now, the deceptively laid-back McCabe was acting like he wanted to fire her on the spot.

Deciding it was his turn to be put in the hot seat, Amanda stepped closer. “Do you have a problem with the fact I’m a woman?”

“No.” He was clearly fibbing. “Not at all.”

Then why couldn’t he stop looking at her like he was going to need a protective force field just to be anywhere near her? “I come highly recommended.” The defensive words were out before she could stop them.

“I know.” He exhaled, beginning to look as off-kilter as she felt. “I just expected a guy. That’s all.”

A common mistake, given that most of her competitors were male. Still, Amanda refused to let Justin McCabe off the hook. Sensing there was more to whatever it was going on with him, she arched a brow.

There was a beat of complete and utter silence.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I did a Google search on your company after Libby told me she had arranged for A. B. Johnson Carpentry to come out and finish the work on an emergency basis. The website said the company was founded in San Angelo, Texas, by Angus ‘Buddy’ Johnson thirty-eight years ago.”

Proudly, Amanda relayed, “That’s my grandfather. He still runs the business—although he’s supposed to be phasing out of that, too—but he stopped doing the rural gigs a year ago.” After much persuading on her part.

Amanda touched her thumb to the center of her chest. “I do them now.”

It was McCabe’s turn to appear irritated. “So why didn’t you make that clear in the communication with Libby? Unless—” he paused, still scrutinizing her closely “—you’re trying to purposely mislead people?”

Amanda really did not want to get into this. However, he’d left her no choice. “When I first started doing jobs on my own the company was getting a lot of requests for me that had nothing whatsoever to do with my talent as a carpenter.”

Understanding dawned on his handsome face. Along with a hint of anger. Amanda warmed beneath the intensity in his eyes. “So we took all the employee photos off the website and just listed the carpenters by name, or in my case, just my initials and last name. To differentiate me from my granddad we added the Junior to my name. That successfully eliminated all the customers just interested in making up jobs to hit on me.”

“Makes sense.”

She straightened. “Luckily, that’s not going to be the case here.”

“No,” he concurred, meeting her stern gaze. “It’s not.”

“Good to hear.” Amanda relaxed in relief. The last thing she wanted to deal with was the amorous attention of the tall, sexy Texan. Given how physically attractive she found him, the situation might be just too tempting.

Thinking he was possibly the most easygoing man she had ever met, Amanda drew a deep breath. “Anyway, back to the way the company operates. My grandfather takes the service requests. He makes up the schedule and does all the accounting work required to run the business. The other four employees are all master carpenters, and they work in San Angelo. They all have families, and don’t want to be away for days at a time, so I take the gigs on all the remote locations.”

When he opened his mouth she lifted a staying hand. “Unless you’re not comfortable with that? If that’s the case, I’ll see if one of the guys wants to do it.” She paused again, frowning. “They’d have to commute back and forth, and the two hours’ travel time daily would add significantly to the overall cost and time it will take to complete the job.”