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Annie shrugged. “It’s either a new low or a brilliant plan. They’re socially awkward and therefore easy to impress. Plus they can fix our computer problems. I’m convincing myself this a good idea as I speak.”
“Look, I appreciate the offer,” Olivia said, “but the last thing I want to do right now is go somewhere to meet men. Every day here, I’m surrounded by men.”
Annie wrinkled her nose. “But they’re construction workers. You don’t want to date one of them.”
Olivia blew out an exaggerated breath. “Yeah, that certainly didn’t work out well for my mother.”
Annie colored, realizing she’d put her foot in her mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t trying to insult your father.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, if you like someone up there, that’s great. Are any of them cute?”
An image of Carson flashed into her mind. Tall with his football-player shoulders andI bench 500 poundsbiceps. Olivia would’ve never described him as cute, though. Rugged, yes. Handsome, definitely. A little dangerous-looking, sometimes, sure. But never cute.
Before Olivia thought about how to answer, Riley said, “Forget the cute guys. Miles was cute, and where did that get you? Are any of the guys up there nice, caring, and loyal?”
“Or at least tall?” Annie added.
Olivia went back to drawing. “I don’t know much about most of them. Carson does everything he can to keep them from talking to me.”
Annie sighed, worried again. “Is he being horrible to you?”
Before tonight she might have said yes, but the thought of Carson’s hands on her shoulders was anything but horrible. “Not most of the time. The work is hard. Carson is…” How did she describe working with him? He could aggravate her one moment and the next do something completely sweet like check her hands to see if they were blistered or volunteer to show her exercises to strengthen her core. “Carson is hard to describe,” she finished.
Riley raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never had trouble describing him before.”
Annie nodded, also suspicious. “Usually, you have a whole thesaurus full of words to describe him.”
True. All true. Olivia twirled her pencil in thought. “Sometimes he’s nice, and it’s throwing me. I know how to deal with Carson when he’s being a jerk. I’ve had practice with that. I’m at a loss when he’s nice.”
Annie laughed. “That doesn’t sound like a bad problem.”
One would think so. But it was. Long after Olivia hung up with her friends, she stewed over why it was a problem.
Disliking Carson had been so easy when things turned ugly during junior year. After that, she didn’t have to feel bad that he never noticed her, let alone reciprocated any of her interest in him. The guy was arrogant, selfish, and oblivious to everyone else. Those sorts of people were easy to banish from her thoughts and desires.
But if Carson wasn’t as self-centered as she’d painted him, if he was actually a decent guy who also happened to be strong, handsome, rich, and witty—and she’d turned him into an enemy in high school—where did that leave her?
Well, it left her smack dab in a heap of inadequacy. He wasn’t interested in her. If she developed feelings for him, it would be like reliving her freshman and sophomore year.
Working with him every day was already hard enough. Did he notice how many times her gaze flicked to him? Could he tell that she liked talking to him, even when they were trading barbs?
She couldn’t blame herself for that, she supposed. Carson just dominated a room. A person naturally gravitated to him. That had always been the case.
She finished the cat and was pleased with it until she realized it looked like Carson’s cat. Great. Even when she was telling herself not to think about him, he was seeping into her subconscious.
She flipped the page and started drawing a giraffe. Carson was in no way connected to a giraffe so it wasn’t about him. She pressed the pencil against the paper firmly. She wouldn’t do anything here that she would regret later. She wouldn’t flirt with Carson or turn into one of his groupies. She had more sense than that, and well, if not more sense, then at least more pride.
She wasn’t his type. His type, she’d seen firsthand, was ditzy girls. Beautiful and vapid.
Not her. Not then. Not now.
11
On Thursday, Carson decided to see how well Olivia handled the saw and asked her to work on some built-in shelves in the den. Several of the crew also decided to help with shelves—making cuts for her and holding the boards steady while she used the nail gun.
The shelves were done in record time, but the rest of the work slowed.
Yep. And to think he’d ever assumed making Olivia work for him would be a good idea.
After the crew knocked off for the day, Carson went back to his house and did his physical therapy exercises. He’d just started lifting weights when a knock sounded on the door.
