Ruth Herne - Yuletide Hearts

Buck nodded and swung down the ladder. “Be right back.”

Matt climbed back up, inspecting each seam before they added the underlayment and the shingles. A mistake now would cost time and money later, every builder’s nightmare.

Do it once, do it right.

By the time Matt glanced at his watch again, it was nearly one o’clock. “Hey, guys, lunch.”

Hank waved a sandwich from the roof across the street. “Got mine right here, boss.”

Tom did the same thing.

Buck straightened and rolled his shoulders to ease muscle strain. “I’ll bring mine up so we can keep going here. You want something, Matt?”

Their dedication touched Matt’s heart. He’d worked with a lot of crews over the years, good and bad, and from both ends of the spectrum as low man on the totem pole and supervisor, but this…

He cleared his throat and nodded to Buck. “I’ve got a sandwich inside the truck. And some of those snowball cupcakes.”

“I love them,” Buck declared.

“Bring the box, we’ll share. And see if the other guys want some.”

“Hank won’t. Coconut bothers him since he got the Crohn’s, but Tom will dig in. So will Callie. She loves chocolate. Thanks, Matt.”

“You’re welcome.”

Callie headed across the roof just then, a soldier’s satisfaction marking her gaze, her walk.

A really good-looking soldier.

With great hair and pearl-soft skin.

Stop. Now.

He couldn’t afford to mess up this job. He’d seen the careful way Hank handled his daughter, although this woman didn’t seem to need protecting.

The image of her quick wince revisited him, the way she’d cringed at McGee’s teasing, and that brought back another Grandpa Gus-ism. “If you respect women, you’ll respect life.”

Maybe Callie Marek did need protecting and was good at hiding it, but either way, she was off limits. Her warm voice reenforced that notion a short while later. “Jake’s home.”

A yellow bus rolled toward them, lights flashing. Jake climbed down the steps, let the dog off the porch, then hurried their way with The General racing alongside. “You guys got a lot done today!”

Matt grinned as the pair drew closer, their enthusiasm contagious. “We did, but it’s easy with a great crew.”

“I can help.” The boy’s excitement made it tough for Matt to say no, but—

“We’d love your help,” Callie told him, staving Matt’s refusal with a sidelong glance. “First, get changed. Put on proper gear including your boots and hard hat, then head over here. There won’t be much time, but you can work on cleanup.”

“Okay.”

The kid dashed across the open lot at a run, the dog streaming alongside, his pace pretty solid for an eight-year-old. Matt turned Callie’s way, disapproving. “I—”

She held up a hand to thwart his argument. “I know what you’re going to say, but trust me on this. Jake understands construction sites. He’s been working side-by-side with us for years with no harm, no foul. He’s great on cleanup duty and this is a much better choice than television or computer games, right?”

“Yes, but…” Matt met her gaze, decided that was dangerous because her eyes made him remember how lovely she was, even in roofing gear, and he didn’t want to go there. No woman in her right mind would find his teenage police record a good thing to have around an impressionable kid like Jake. A good kid, Matt reminded himself. “Doesn’t he have homework?”

“Yes.” Callie nodded, chin down, focusing on her work, talking easily. “But he’s got some processing problems so school doesn’t come easily. We’ll do it together, step by step, after supper.”

That’s what they’d been doing last night, Matt realized. “After working here all day, you’ll do homework duty at night?”

She gave a brisk nod. “Of course.”

He’d have given anything to have a mother like that. He’d tackled educational difficulties on his own and failed miserably. “That’s amazing, Callie.”

She turned, surprised. Their eyes met.

She went still, her eyes on his, her mouth slightly open, the parted lips looking very approachable.

And she read his gaze, his thoughts. It was there in her slight intake of breath, the way she blinked, the quick flex of fingers as realization struck.

Amanda Slaughter created a welcome diversion by pulling into the tract with promised coffee.

Matt was pretty sure he didn’t want to be diverted.

Callie turned toward the ladder, breaking the connection. That was good, right? Neither of them had the time or energy to put into that quick flash of recognition. Obviously they’d be smart to ignore it.

But he caught her shifting a surreptitious glance his way moments later, and that confirmed what he’d been struggling with all day.

Working side by side with Callie Marek meant he couldn’t ignore her. And the over-the-shoulder look said she wasn’t oblivious to the spark of attraction.

But a kid like Jake deserved to be surrounded by the best examples possible. Matt had been anything but a good example for a long time. Sooner or later Callie would discover his past. No self-respecting woman wanted a guy with a record setting an example for her kid, and Matt understood that. Respected it, even. He needed to remember he was in the southern sector of the county for two things only: to make amends to those he’d hurt and help Cobbled Creek become what Hank Marek meant it to be.

And although he was thrilled by the skill level and dedication shown by Hank and his crew, no way, no how was he looking for anything else. Especially where Callie Marek was concerned.

Chapter Four

McGee’s truck reappeared while the crew grabbed coffee from Jim’s wife. He braked quick, scattering stone, then climbed out, strode their way and met Matt’s gaze head-on, his expression taut. “You living here, Cavanaugh?”

Matt’s face showed surprise, not a good thing, but Hank’s quick reaction spared a clash. “Of course he is, Finch. Wouldn’t make sense to travel back and forth to Nunda while daylight hours are scarce, winter’s closing in and every penny he’s got is invested in Cobbled Creek.”

“You don’t have a C of O,” Finch barked, his typical attitude more evident this afternoon. “There’s reasons we’ve got regulations, Cavanaugh, although you were never real good at following rules, were you?”

Matt’s flinch surprised Callie, but then Hank sighed and frowned as if wondering what the clamor was about. “Finch, I don’t know any rule that says Matt can’t live with us while he gets the model done and inspected. It makes good sense, all in all.” Hank kept his voice easy and his surprise genuine, as if taken aback by Finch’s intrusion.

Callie swallowed a lump in her throat the size of a small two-by-four. Live with them? Was her father kidding?

“He’s staying at your place?” Finch swept Callie a look, then drew his gaze back to the two men.

Hank shrugged, sidestepping the truth. “We have extra room. Matt needs to be on site. It works out for everyone.”

Everyone but me, Callie wanted to shout. She was having a hard enough time keeping her distance from Matt in the short time they’d been working together, but to have him staying at their place?

“A perfect solution,” Matt added, as if everything was suddenly hunky-dory. “And just so you know, I’m ordering us a fresh turkey for Thanksgiving.”

Finch scowled.

Hank grinned.

Tom covered a laugh with a cough.

Callie decided more coffee would only tax her already-twining gut and headed back to the roof, trying to untwist the coiled emotions inside.

Yes, she was attracted.

No, she shouldn’t be.

And having him under their roof, sharing their home, their food?