Page 9 of Built to Last

The sight that met me had every curse word I’d ever learned wanting to fire like a cannon into the space behind the strip of shops. Casey’s delivery van was parked off to one side of the tight alley, and wedged halfway behind it was a backhoe. A hardhat-wearing man was climbing down from the backhoe and shouting at Casey.

“Get that van out of here! We’re digging to install plumbing. You’re in the way!”

“I’ve got a delivery to make,” Casey yelled back. “What gives you the right to block access to all these shops?”

“I’m on a tight schedule,” the construction worker argued back. “Deliver your shit to the front entrance.”

“It’s not going to fit through the front entrance.”

“Whoa, whoa. What’s going on here?” I asked, charging forward, as furious as either the construction worker or Casey.

“This asshole is blocking me in and threatened to dig up the pavement so I can’t get out,” Casey said.

“I told him to move and he didn’t listen,” the construction worker said.

I puffed an exasperated breath out through my nose, beyond irritated that two grown men who were supposed to be professionals could act like such children on a Monday morning.

“There’s an easy solution to this,” I told them. “You, wait ten minutes for Casey to unload the equipment he’s delivering. Casey, can you unload it all quickly and then move your van?”

“Maybe,” Casey said grudgingly.

“Then get started. I’ll be back in a second.”

I started forward with every intention of dealing with this stupid problem at the source. Casey was being reasonable and delivering the equipment exactly when he said he would. It was Kyle’s team member who was the problem.

“Do not start digging until I talk to your boss,” I told the backhoe driver, pointing at him as I passed.

“Hey, buddy, I’m a contractor. Nobody’s my boss but me,” the man called after me.

“Yeah, well, you’re going to have one less builder to work with after I’m done with Kyle,” I muttered to myself as I strode away from the alley and over to the edge of the street where Kyle’s RV was parked.

I knocked once, then went ahead and let myself in. I wasn’t in a mood to ask permission to give Kyle a piece of my mind. I wanted to go in strong from the get-go.

“Hey,” I announced myself with a bark as I stepped up into the RV.

Anything else I was going to say died on my lips. Kyle was at the back of the RV, just stepping out from the bedroom. His broad chest with the perfect amount of hair was bare, at least for a second before he pulled the t-shirt he’d lifted over his head down over his perfect torso.

Once his head popped out through the neck of his t-shirt, his dark eyes registered surprise for a moment, then something hot and filled with sparks. Then it went straight to irritated.

“What the fuck?” he asked, striding the rest of the way down the RV to stand close enough that it felt like he was towering over me.

A dangerous sizzle shot through my veins.

“I could say the same to you,” I shot back, resting my hands on my hips and channeling the heat coursing through me into anger. Good old safe, avoidant anger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyle glowered in return, choosing his emotions from the same playbook I was using. “You’re the one who barged into my home unannounced.”

“It’s also your office,” I snapped. “Most people I know don’t walk around naked in their office.”

“I wasn’t naked, I was just changing my shirt,” he argued back. “You’d know if I was naked.”

Something about those words dropped like a scatter bomb into the narrow space of the RV. We both froze, staring at each other with heat that was quickly spiraling away from simple, uncomplicated anger and into something much slipperier.

I would know what Kyle looked like naked. I had those images burned into my mind. I knew what he looked like naked and panting. I knew what he felt and tasted like. The smolder in his eyes told me he remembered the same things about me, too.

“What do you actually want?” he asked far too many seconds later, his voice rougher than it should have been.

I cleared my throat. “I want you to get out there and stop your contractor with his backhoe from digging up the area behind the shops and trapping the guy delivering the café’s new sound system. I want you to get your staff under control.”