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And thanks for leaving me standing here thinking about you on your way to undress.
What was going through Olivia’s mind? Were things changing between them? Was that a good thing?
He swiped a hand across his cheek and found even more hummus there. Yeah, he probably needed to take a shower too.
12
Olivia locked the bathroom door and leaned against it. What had she been thinking to wipe hummus off of Carson Clark’s cheek and then lick it off her fingers like she was some sort of…well, she didn’t even know who did that sort of thing. Someone who was clearly interested in him. Or insane.
And she wasn’t. At least not the first option. Maybe she was insane.
Her goal had always been to get the work on the house done, keep her brother out of jail, and then forget that Carson Clark had ever come back to Lark Springs. Because he wasn’t staying. Once his foot healed, he’d be back to Denver, back to a life of adoring fans and cheerleaders who threw themselves at him.
And okay, the guy was tall, had a distracting amount of muscles, and an all-over hotness that made you want to run your fingers through his hair, but she had to keep in mind that he’d never liked her and still didn’t. The only reason he’d agreed to hire her was that he needed a replacement for her brother and wanted to see her suffer. She was the construction slave.
He would probably think it was hilarious if she threw herself at him. What better way to get his final revenge than to humiliate her by turning her down?
Is that what would happen if she didn’t rein in her impulses? More humiliation?
She shut her eyes and tried to remember Carson the way she’d seen him in high school: the dumb jock, the swaggering guy who never even tried in school because he knew he didn’t have to. He laughed with his friends about his bad grades. He knew he could skate by on his football talent. And he had. He’d gotten a scholarship to the University of Texas.
Instead of seeing his teenage image, ones from today stayed firmly fixed in her mind. Carson laughing as they struggled over the hummus. Carson with a teasing grin, insisting that his cat was offended that she didn’t think he could be violent.
Dumb jocks probably couldn’t do witty banter as easily as Carson made it seem. She’d forgotten all the times he’d been funny back in high school and only remembered him being cutting.
That’s what finally snapped her out of her attraction, the memory of his comments about her father after Carson had ruined her chances of having her service project accepted.Hey, you should come to my party too. I know how you love alcoholics.
Yeah. Carson with his picture-perfect family hadn’t thought much of hers, and his estimation probably hadn’t increased any since then. Now she not only had an alcoholic father, she also had a brother who embezzled money, gambled it away, and skipped town.
Her white trash bingo card was just about full.
She sighed and climbed into the shower.
* * *
The next day,she spent more time than was technically necessary to get ready for a day of construction. Okay, Carson would never be interested in her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to feel attractive. Self-care, and all of that. When she stood over her suitcase deciding between some beat-up jeans and a pair of shorts that showed off her long legs, she decided on the shorts. Carson might be out of her league, but it wouldn’t hurt for him to notice that she had nice legs.
If Carson thought she looked good, he gave no indication of it during the day. He mostly seemed frustrated that the rest of the construction crew was so willing to help her with any task he assigned. Apparently, he wanted to see her struggling, not being helped or mentored.
Dustin was especially nice. Yesterday, she’d mentioned that she’d wished she’d brought her crockpot, and this morning he’d brought her one to use. Ricardo told her if she ever wanted to go back to Lark Springs, he could give her a ride into town after work and bring her back up in the morning. She might take him up on the offer sometime.
About an hour before quitting time, she and Ricardo were working on tiling one of the showers when Carson came into the bathroom. He saw them standing shoulder to shoulder in the confined space and cleared his throat. “When I said I wanted the two of you to tile the showers, I meant that you should each be working on different showers. You’re getting in each other’s way.”
Ricardo shrugged. “I was just making sure she did it right. We wouldn’t want to redo everything.”
“You’re right,” Carson said in a conceding tone. “You’re the tile expert so I’ll let you do the rest by yourself. I’ll have Olivia start on the painting.” He motioned for her to come out.
She threw a “Thanks for your help!” to Ricardo as she left, and followed Carson out of the room and down the hall to one of the bedrooms. The doors and trim had already been removed and the windows covered with paper. A large plastic barrel of paint waited in the middle of the floor as well as a paint sprayer, rags, brushes, and goggles.
“You’re going to go with the wrong color paint?” she asked.
He moved a pile of switch plates off the step ladder. “I have the paint, and it’s what Mrs. Gordon requested. You know how to use the sprayer, right?” Carson was already heading to the door on his way to do something else.
She picked up the goggles. “If I have any trouble, I’ll ask one of the guys.”
He stopped and turned back. “I’ll show you. I don’t want you bothering them.”
Bothering them.As if she wasn’t pulling her weight. “I’m sure I can figure it out. I’ve used a sprayer before. It’s just been a few years.”
