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His expression relaxes, and the tension in his body eases. “Oh, thanks.” He walks over, and I hand it to him. “It’s okay, though,” he tells me. “I could’ve grabbed something from the food truck. You didn’t have to go through the trouble.”
The food truck? “Well, I couldn’t let you eat crap from a food truck,” I say.
And to my relief, he smiles a little. “It’s basically the same stuff that’s in there,” he points out, setting the lunch box on a work table.
But I’m way ahead of him. “Well, I snuck in a turkey and cheese cucumber wrap, too, in case you want something different.”
His face falls.
“Don’t worry,” I tease. “Your lunch is still in there. I just made too much and needed help finishing the wrap.”
The slight fear in his eyes dispels, and he takes a breath. “You’re not going to be happy until I’m eating hummus, are you?”
I try not to laugh. “I’ll build you up slowly.”
He rolls his eyes, and I finally take a deep breath. I guess we’re over the argument.
I stand there, feeling his eyes on me, the sounds of hammers pounding and the breeze blowing through the structure slowly fading away.
Then I realize that Dutch is still in the room.
We both look over at him, his gaze shifting between us.
“I’ll go…” He swallows and clears this throat. “do something,” he says and walks away, leaving us alone.
I look back at Pike, and I guess I should go, too, and leave him to it, but instead, I slide my hands into my pockets and gaze around. “The sawdust smells good,” I tell him.
A smile crosses his eyes, and he nods, looking around. “Yeah. It’s like home to me.”
When our gazes meet again, heat pools low in my belly, and I forget to breathe for a moment. I quickly look away.
“I apologize for going off on you yesterday,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Cramer was leering, and it was creepy. I got aggravated.” And then he clarifies, “Aggravated with him, I mean. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”
“I work in a bar,” I point out. “I’m used to a little leering. I can handle it.”
Really, I can stand up and fight for my honor all on my own. And so can Cole. If it ever occurs to him. Pike doesn’t need to feel responsible for me. I’m not his to take care of.
“Well, I’ll get going,” I tell him and start backing away.
But he stops me. “You wanna see?” he offers. “A little tour?”
I’ve already seen a great deal of the place, since I was here sandbagging last week, but I nod anyway. “Yeah, sure.”
He leads me toward the back of the building, and I wonder if I’m supposed to be wearing a hard hat, but he’s not wearing one, either, so I don’t ask.
“It’s supposed to be office space for that casino riverboat that’s coming to the area,” he explains. “There’ll be a pavilion at the dock with restaurants and event space, but they’re going to run everything from here. Hiring, finances, advertising…”
He shoots me a smile, and I look away again.
“It’s like a skeleton,” I comment. “When do the walls go up?”
“Once the plumbers and electricians get everything squared away,” he replies, “I install the insulation and then we start walling it up. You’ll see rooms instead of bones.”
We enter a large space at the rear corner of the building, and unlike the other rooms, there’s an entire wall without beams. Like it’s going to be just one, huge picture window there. I step into the small adjacent space and peer over the beam in front of my face.
“What’s this space?”
He looks over at me. “It’s a private bathroom for this office.”
