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Holt hasn’t been the least bit shy hiding his feelings about my legs.
Maybe I’m a bit of a tease.
When I pull up outside the site, though, with a wicker basket piled full of good home cooking, I’m surprised at all the activity going on. Holt’s always made his work crew out to be a small thing, but I see a good two dozen men swarming around the crater where that charred-up hotel used to be.
I hardly recognize it now.
They’ve cleared out the mess and even ripped out the foundation, starting over from scratch. Men climb high on scaffolding as they erect framing, cranes moving big beams into place.
Holt stands on the edge of it all, somehow managing to radiate authority even though he’s as dirty and gritty as the rest of them, wearing the same workman’s coveralls.
I linger in my truck, watching him.
It’s the first time I’ve ever gotten to look at him without him knowing I’m watching, taking him in on his home turf.
Dear Lord. If we’d met this way first…
I’d have fallen for him a lot sooner.
He’s got this way about him.
His body language is calm, confident, strong.
Not arrogant, just plain reassuring. Like you can trust him to have your back.
I’m not sure when I started trusting him to have mine.
But watching him like this makes my heart beat just a little too fast.
It takes me a second to pull myself together and stop acting all fluttery before I grab the basket and slide out of the truck.
As I do, his head comes up, and his eyes lock on mine.
Even over the distance, I feel how his gaze warms.
How he rivets me in place like I’m in a spotlight, captured in his eyes.
I’m not gonna blush, dammit.
I’m not.
It’s this dumb summer heat, that’s all, swarming around me as I tread over the dusty ground.
Holt’s with a big, older guy, the kind of thick-bearded, long-haired behemoth that makes you think of Viking warlords, though his hair’s black.
Never caught a name other than “Alaska,” though I know he moved here around the same time as Holt and it seems like they’re friends.
He offers me a friendly smile now, completely at odds with the smoldering way Holt’s eyes dip over me, lingering on the low neckline of my blouse and trailing down to my legs.
“Afternoon, Miss Potter,” Alaska says. He’s got one deep old voice all right, and this slow, kind way of speaking. Almost fatherly. “Not expecting to see you on-site today.”
He elbows Holt then, and Holt blinks, clearing his throat and tugging at the neck of his coveralls before offering a grin. “Hey, Libby.”
“Hey yourself,” I answer, holding up the basket. “Lunch. ’Cause for all I know, you’re greasing up at Brody’s every day.”
That grin turns sheepish. “Shit, you’re psychic?”
“Nope. I know men, and I know you. You’re hopeless.” I dip my head to Alaska. “Present company excluded. You seem like a decent sort. Better than your boss, anyway.”
“I’m plenty decent.” Holt laughs, but he’s still looking at me, mischief dancing in those whiskey eyes that won’t stop drowning me in heat.
“You don’t even know the word,” I retort, while Alaska grins.
“So now I know why you keep showing up with your coveralls zipped up to the neck.” He hooks a finger in the high collar of Holt’s coveralls and tugs it down, revealing a line of marks I left behind. “Looks like you two had fun duking it out, huh?”
“Goddammit, Alaska!” Holt swipes his hand away.
I clear my throat and studiously avoid the giant’s eyes.
Look, I ain’t ashamed that I get a little rowdy in bed.
But I don’t wanna have a conversation about it with a man I just met.
Holt makes a half-annoyed, half-resigned sound and steps closer, his hand curling against my arm as he nudges me a few steps away.
“Don’t mind him,” he says. “He means well. He just spent so much time around fucking polar bears and arctic wolves up in Alaska that he never socialized like a human being.”
“I heard that,” Alaska grunts.
“You were supposed to,” Holt tosses over his shoulder before turning his smile on me again. “So what’s for lunch?”
“Chicken salad and fresh-baked bread with homemade cheese.” I pull the cloth back over the basket to reveal the saran-wrapped containers inside. “Nothing fancy, but I figured it’d keep until you have time to stop.”
Holt lights up like a little boy as he leans in to peek. “You baked me bread?”
“Um, yeah. And the cheese has been curing for a while. Horses aren’t all I do, honey.”
He grins at the pet name I throw back at him.
“A woman of many talents.” He whistles softly, then nudges my arm. “Stay and eat with me?”
I blink. “Sure, but do you have time for that? Y’all seem pretty busy.”
“We are, but it’s about time to call it anyway. Don’t want anyone having a stroke in this heat.” He leans away from me and slips two fingers between his teeth, then lets out a piercing whistle before raising his voice.
