Page 18 of Studfinder

“Oh. Oh,” Rita says, looking over her shoulder as the waitress approaches. Twisting back to the table, she fumbles in her pocket.

“I got this,” I offer. I’d never let a woman pay. Rita’s face pinkens for some reason, and I hand over a twenty. Sliding out of the booth, I wait for Rita to stand and then escort her to the parking lot.

“You okay to drive home?” It’s dark out, and I glance up at the sky, noting the ink black color and the brilliant display of stars. The freedom to enjoy the night is something I won’t ever take for granted again.

“It’s not far. I’m good, handsome.”

“Handsome, again?” I laugh, noting she didn’t give me more information as to where ‘far’ is. She dismisses me with a wave of her hand as we stand beside her SUV. Stepping closer to her, I ask, “You think I’m handsome?”

“As if you don’t already know it. Your good looks have already gone to your head, or I’d warn you against letting it get there.”

“Ri-ta.” I drag out her name. Everything in me wants to kiss this pretty woman under a starlit sky right now, but I’ve already taken advantage of her once before. This night was my apology.

“I gotta go,” she says, while her blue eyes say otherwise, and her body leans against her driver door. I want to pin her against the metal and have my way with her sassy mouth. She’s so close I could stroke her cheek and marvel at the softness of her skin. Or better yet, clutch the back of her neck and drag her to me, closing the distance, and crushing my mouth to hers.

But I’m not looking to cross any more lines with Rita Kaplan, so I take a step back, and Rita rolls against the door, quickly flicking the handle and opening it. I wait as she climbs inside and watches as she backs out of the parking spot, wondering if I’ll ever feel free enough to kiss a pretty woman under a star-bright sky again.

9

Jake

It’s a few days before I see Rita again. The weekend interfered with work, and although the project continues, I’m not obligated to be there, allowing for volunteers to take over and push things ahead. On Monday, we’re just finishing up when Rita arrives.

“What’s this?” Rita questions. She does a check-in at the end of the day, but I don’t understand why Sullivan can’t just call her with updates on our progress. Then again, I’m not disappointed she’s here. I’ve strangely missed her the past few days, and I can’t help the smile on my face when I see her.

“It’s a couch,” I state, noting the piece of furniture that arrived in the middle of a construction site.

Her head pops up, glaring at me as I’ve stated the obvious. “Yes, but what’s it doing here? Furniture doesn’t arrive until the end of the project.”

I shrug, having no idea, and Sullivan interjects. “Some mistake at the warehouse. The date said May, not July, so here it is.”

We don’t have a garage yet that we can store it in, and it’s too large to lug to the basement. We’ll just have to work around it. The item is wrapped in plastic, so it should be safe enough.

Rita sighs, rubbing at her forehead like I’ve seen her do from time to time.

“Better get a move on,” Sullivan warns. “Storm’s coming.” We’ve had tons of rain lately, making the yard a soggy mess of streams and mini mudslides. I notice Rita is not wearing her heels but returned to her hiking boots along with dress pants, but she’s still wearing a fancy, feminine blouse.

“Okay,” Rita says to him. “I’ll be right after you. I’m just going to cover this.” She turns around looking for something to give the couch an extra layer of protection.

“I can wait,” Sullivan offers, glancing at me before back at Rita. I see the longing in his eyes, and I feel for the guy as Rita doesn’t look at him the same way. She sees him as an asset to Building Buddies and a hard worker, but nothing more.

“No, you go. You put in another long day.” Rita’s encouraging words hit me wrong. Sullivan is the construction manager, and it’s his job to be here. Strangely, I want praise from her myself, but I bite my tongue. Sullivan eyes me once more.

“There are drop cloths in the back room. I’ll go get one.” While I turn away from Rita and Sullivan, I don’t miss him grumbling to Rita. Reminding myself I don’t need Sullivan’s approval, I retrieve the heavy cloth, and when I return to the front room, Sullivan is gone. We have electricity in the house now, no longer using the generator from before, but we only have temporary outlets until the drywall is complete. Within seconds, the weather seems like a faucet from heaven turned on, and the rain intensifies, coating the front window in a sheet of water.

“Think it might be best to wait this out a few minutes,” I suggest as Rita doesn’t have a raincoat or an umbrella. She glances at the window but doesn’t respond to my warning.

“Help me cover this thing.” An early arrival couch doesn’t seem like it should irritate her as much as it does, but I don’t question her mood. We cover the thing, and just as we stand back to inspect our work, the light nearest us goes off.

“What the hell?” I mutter, stalking over to the outlet and pulling the cord from an industrial work lamp. Plugging it back in, I see the electricity is out. The room is pretty dark due to the gloom of the late afternoon and the enclosed space. The sheet of rain coating the window isn’t helping either.

“Now what?” Rita grumbles.

“Bad day at the office, dear?” I jest, and Rita snorts that honking sound she makes. I have to admit the noise is growing on me.

“It’s nothing,” she mutters, and I toss myself down on the newly covered couch. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“I’m not running out in that rain. I’d be drenched before I shut the front door,” I state. Rita glances back at the three-panel window, streaming with a deluge of water. It’s beautiful and alarming.