Your Hand in Mine: A Heartwood Novel Page 9

Did I think him capable of forcing himself on me? Of being more than an imposition? Maybe, but it meant I’d have to be equipped to handle him if he got messy.

  I shook my head to banish those dark thoughts. I was seeing threats everywhere, I knew, after what happened to Essie last year. She’d been the victim of a psychotic ex stalking her. Only hers had gotten physically violent, going from accosting her in the streets to kidnapping her and her boyfriend.

  Owen was no Trent, I mused, tapping my pen against my keyboard and watching a string of letters pop up across the list I was typing. He was just a guy with the decent taste to be interested in me, one who knew I was no longer available and thought he would take an opportunity to ask.

  Nothing more.

  Four days later I received the best proposition I’d heard in ages.

  “I’m going to need you this weekend,” Fenton stated distractedly, eyes traveling along lines of text too small from me to read across the room.

  What? Need. Yes! Before my heart had the opportunity to leap out of my chest, I took a moment to breathe. “Sure, hun, whatever you say.” I swiveled around in my chair and set him with a hopeful grin. When he set his face in a stoic scowl, I rescinded. “Okay, okay. What do you need from me?”

  “There’s a conference down in Myrtle Beach for the OHR,” he told me. “I signed up for a table and I want to be able to walk around and talk to people on Saturday. I need someone to be there with me, man the table, make contact with people while I’m networking.”

  “OHR?”

  “Old Home Restorers,” he clarified. Thinking about it, he reached behind him and shuffled through one of the ubiquitous stacks of papers that grew in height every time I came in the room. When he found what he was looking for, he held it out to me. “The building I bought should, in my opinion, be on the national historic register. It’s a shame it isn’t. I decided to sign up for a five-year membership with the group. There are plenty of other old homes in the county I’d be interested in rehabbing one day. I figure, that many people in my profession gathered together in one place, there’s bound to be some great information. I want to be able to pick some brains and maybe walk away with a few more numbers in my phone. People I can call for advice or if I get stuck on something.”

  I eyed him skeptically. “It still doesn’t explain why you want me to go with you.”

  Fenton stared at the floor and it took me a minute to realize. He was nervous. “You’re the best option I have.”

  “You don’t have any friends? Not that I’m turning down an invitation to the beach, but it seems like more of a personal duty than a professional one. I know you can’t afford to pay me to go with you. Which begs the question.”

  I’d already decided to go the second the invitation left his lips. Sign me up, I was a fabulous networker. I decided to make him squirm a little. It would do him good and help prepare him for whatever new experiences he’d endure this weekend. Nervous...I thought with an under-the-breath chuckle. It didn’t fit his character.

  “No, I can’t pay you. I’m hoping you’ll agree to come because you’re invested in the project. Plus, this is a good opportunity to learn more about the restoration side of the business.” He angled closer and upped the wattage on his charm. “This is a good opportunity for both of us.”

  “Buddy, you are looking at the wrong girl if you need a seat warmer.”

  The paper was still in my hand. He reached for it and missed when I held it back, giving him a small smirk.

  “Or,” he quibbled lightly, “am I looking at the right girl to help me through what I consider to be a pretty stressful weekend?”

  Yeah, what I wouldn’t give to be his right girl. “You’re looking at her, I guess,” I told him, tapping my finger against my lips. “This is coming at a pretty stressful time.”

  “Why? You have a better place to be?”

  I studied his jawline while he gave me a speculative once-over, like he was wondering where else I could possibly think of going that would be better than this conference.

  “I don’t really have the cash to up and take off to the beach for the weekend, no matter how tempting the offer.”

  “What if I agree to pay for food? I already got a discounted room rate. You put in for your room and I’ll take care of the rest. Please say yes.”

  I sighed and stretched my arms overhead, already thinking about having a few days off to relax in a hotel and enjoy room service. I could swing a couple of nights away. Think of it as a mental health break. This would be good for both of us in the long run. Surf, sun, and a sexy man. Not to mention the opportunity to learn more about the work I was doing. Which, if I had to admit to myself, did intrigue me.

  “I still don’t see why you can’t do this on your own. Can’t, or won’t, I’m not sure. You’re a big boy. You can handle all the yahoos with their antique brass doorknobs and copper roofs. You handled Owen the other day.”

  Not something I was likely to forget any time soon. It was a thrilling remembrance gracing my dreams for the last few nights.

  Fenton bit the inside of his lip and turned his attention to the ceiling. “You’ve been looking at too many restoration magazines.”

  “Maybe I have.”

  “Tell me you’ll be packed and ready to leave Friday afternoon. We’re going to Myrtle Beach.” He set his fist down on the table. “It’s final, Shari. I’m not taking no for an answer. Be here at noon and we can take off. The conference runs through Saturday night. Sunday we’ll head home. You got it?”

  Oh, heck yes! I sighed again, more for show than anything else. “I’ll be there.”

  And so, Friday afternoon at 12 p.m. on the dot, I was slipping into the passenger seat of Fenton’s white Hyundai. His outing car, I’d come to see. The truck he reserved for the job site and errands into town.

  “Any kind of music you like to listen to?” he asked, flashing me a grin.

  I felt my face soften in a similar smile. “Driver’s choice, but thanks for asking.”

  “I like your manners. I knew there was a reason I hired you. You’re always so damn polite.”

  He flipped through until we came to a mutual agreement on tunes. I really had too much to do to take off for the weekend, and not enough money to swing a trip. My focus should be saving, paying off my bills with the money Fenton gave me and trying to get ahead while I searched for something better.

  It was difficult to look when I was happy where I was.

  Funny, how it happened. I was happy. Of course, my subconscious whispered. I wonder why.

  It was irresponsible to pop off to the beach with a handsome man. Except, of course, if said handsome man was your boss and you were going off on a work errand. The rest of the work would have to wait. I’d delegated the best I could with the rest of our crew. I could only hope Bud and Ray and the boys would do their damnedest to follow the schedule I’d laid out for them. Sunday off.

  They’d called me a harsh taskmaster until I reminded them that I signed their checks now. that put a stop to the sass talk.

  I couldn’t help thinking about Fenton as we drove, wondering why, out of all his employees, he’d asked me to come out with him. So, I asked him.

  “Why did you feel the need to drag me along with you?” I turned my attention from staring out the window.

  “To Myrtle Beach for a working holiday? I know, I’m a monster.”

  “You know what I mean,” I murmured. “You never really answered me, not the way I want you to. I asked if you had any friends and you told me I was the best person for the job. Which I’m not quibbling. I wonder, why me.”

  “Why? I’m crazy about you.” He paused long enough to give me the impression he wanted my response, then said, “You’re succinct without being brusque. I can get a little off topic, and I need you to bring me back to earth. Even though I’m amazing, I’m bound to miss something. You’ve gotten great at cleaning up my messes.”

  “You brought me to clean up your mess,” I replied, th
en turned to him with a sarcastic grin staring at him through my sunglasses. “Why am I suddenly not feeling great?”

  “Ha ha. I have a few good friends, none I would want to bring with me for business. They’re not the best when it comes to people pleasing. This weekend…I’m actually kind of nervous. Don’t tell the guys. My reputation can’t handle it, but the thought of being around all these people who already know what they’re doing? I feel like an amateur.”

  “Even though you are one, you don’t come off as an amateur,” I told him. “You’re doing a great job. Better than several pro designers I’ve seen come through the gallery doors. You need to believe in yourself. Keep doing what you’re doing, keep learning and bettering yourself, and the rest will come.”

  “See? I was right to bring you along.” Fenton’s lips twitched, as though he couldn’t keep the smile to himself. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. And don’t worry. I’m sure there will be plenty of time for you to walk along the beach and have a tropical drink or two. I won’t crack the whip too hard.”

  “Sure, Myrtle Beach screams strawberry daiquiris with little umbrellas.”

  “I expect you packed your bikini.”

  “Why? You want to stare at me?” I asked with a lewd grin.

  “I wouldn’t say no, obviously. I’m a man of good taste. I want to make sure you’ll have a chance to enjoy yourself. I don’t want you to think I’m all work and no play. I like to think I’m a nice, fair boss.”

  I wasn’t disagreeing with him. “I bought two, thanks for your concern. And I plan on waltzing around the hotel shaking what God gave me for everyone to see before baking myself to a crisp on the sand.”

  If I wasn’t mistaken, his face dropped into a scowl the second I said it. Promising.

  We made it to the hotel in good time and checked into the front desk. Riding up the elevator, standing next to each other and seeing our reflections on the door, I could almost imagine we were there on vacation. Just a young couple wanting to get away for a little while, take a break from everyday life and relax.

  What I wouldn’t give to make it a reality.

  “So, I thought we could grab a quick bite to eat tonight. There’s a meet and greet starting in about thirty but I figured we can take tonight to build up our nerve.”

  “Our nerve?”

  “The fun stuff starts tomorrow morning at seven o’clock in the morning,” Fenton said, turning to shoot me a quick look over his shoulder.

  I nodded with a salute. “Got it, chief. Bright and early.”

  The elevator dinged. “This is my floor. You should be two up. I let you have the queen size.”

  “Let me? I’m the one paying for the room! It would have been cheaper to share, you know. I don’t bite.” Hard.

  “I know, but I’m planning on writing this off as a business expense.” Fenton tugged his suitcase forward. “What do you say to sandwiches down at the waterfront restaurant. I can meet you down there in an hour?”

  What did I say? There was nowhere I’d rather be. “Sure. It will give me a chance to take a shower and change, get settled in. I’ll see you then.”

  The door closed and cut me off from the perfect view of his rapidly retreating backside. Pants hugged his curves and swayed back and forth with each step. Mmm. The man was a walking advertisement for jeans. I couldn’t breathe easy until he was out of sight. Maybe this weekend wasn’t going to be as simple as I’d assumed. Balancing good manners with a hard-core flirt would be difficult. Still, I was determined.

  The room was nice, I admitted, slipping the key into the slot and clicking it shut behind me. A queen bed covered with a floral bedspread, typical hotel décor. The piece de resistance was the large picture window overlooking the ocean.

  Yeah, baby. That made the expense worth it.

  I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked my sandals aside. Walking to the window, I was rewarded with an expansive view of uninterrupted blue.

  I’d taken brief trips to the beach with the family, once upon a time. None I remembered clearly. Definitely none with such a stunning view. One I got to a point where I could work and make my own money, it was always later. I needed to save more, or something came up. I would get to take a trip at some point, not now. Not next week or next year.

  I watched a pack of seagulls winging their way over crisp, white-capped waves. The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon at such an angle it painted the water in shades of lilac and rose, with shades of deep navy blue. It gave the ocean a softer look, welcoming. Did I have time for a quick dip?

  I curled my toes in anticipation. This was going to be a trip to remember, even with the work Fenton expected me to do.

  I was ready to enjoy myself to the fullest.

  The shower was quick, long enough to wash my hair a second time and scrub myself in all the important places. A change of clothes and a splash of makeup had me ready for dinner. I slipped my feet into a fresh pair of sandals, pausing to admire my freshly painted toenails in luminous coral pink before throwing my purse over my shoulder and heading down the hallway.

  A few minutes had me walking through the lobby and toward the restaurant placard. I saw Fenton sitting at a mall round table facing an empty stool. There were two beers already sitting in front of him and I watched him stare out at the water. The salty breeze ruffled his hair and I felt my heart flip over. Which forced me to admit one thing. Whatever was happening between us, whether I was out of my mind or really falling head over heels for my boss, it didn’t matter.

  This man meant something to me.

  He glanced up as I walked over and flashed me a big-bad-wolf smile that, for a moment, made me feel sure he planned to eat me up. Then it was replaced by a regular grin.

  “I ordered a round of wings and some beers. The beers made it first,” he said when I slid into the stool. “The wings are on their way in a mix of spices from mild to melt your tongue off. We can start with some apps and work our way up to sandwiches. Sound good?”

  It sounded like my idea of the perfect date. “Excellent, I’m starving.”

  His eyes traveled along my bared shoulders and the festive sundress painted with tropical yellow flowers. “Did you do something different with your hair?”

  “This,” I said, taking a sip of my beer, “is what I look like when I’m not stressed out. You see? I let my hair air dry and everything!” I fingered the long, wavy strands, tangling down toward my mid back. “I might not always look like I mean business, but I’m letting you know, I take this getaway seriously.”

  “Do you?” He watched me take a second sip, his eyes lingering on my mouth. Had I thought there was no interest on his part? If I wasn’t mistaken, I was seated across from a man who was attracted to a woman. “What are you taking seriously? The fun, or the work?”

  “It can be both,” I assured him. “There’s no reason I can’t juggle.” We both looked up in gratitude when a server arrived bearing goodness in the form of hot wings. My mouth instantly salivated from the smell. “I take my fun as seriously as my work. Otherwise, what’s the point of life? You have to be able to make time for both.”

  “I’d like you to know up front,” Fenton fired back. “This isn’t a date. I can see what you’re thinking, with the lipstick and the little…what are those?”

  I gestured toward my head. “Earrings?”

  “Yes, the earrings. You look fabulous, and you put some kind of scent on.”

  “That’s how you know what I’m thinking?”

  “Yes. It’s not a date. It’s dinner.”

  I did my best to look innocent. And almost succeeded. “You could have fooled me.”

  “Sorry. I think a date should be more than a bucket of wings and some brews. This is a business dinner.” He eased back in the chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

  “A business dinner with hot wings and pitcher of beer, one you’re planning to write off. Best meeting I’ve ever had, then. And I look forward to the
night you pull up to my house with flowers. I guarantee, it will happen.” My lips curved and I kept my eyes on his. “In the interest of our non-date, you should tell me more about yourself. It helps make this business meeting a bit less awkward. Since I don’t hear you talking business.”

  Fenton crunched into a wing and his eyes rolled up in his head in a manly version of a swoon. After a long, rich chew, he said, “God, that’s good. Super crunchy.”

  Watching him lick the hot sauce from his fingers did something special to the lower parts of my anatomy. I melted into a puddle of goo and watched him swallow before lowering his voice and telling me, “Super spicy, too.”

  He’d used something to push his hair back, exposing the tanned skin of his neck. It made me want to nibble my way up the nape of his neck without stopping. I wondered, if this was really a non-date, why he’d taken the time to do his hair, or change into a fresh shirt. Was that cologne I smelled?

  My mind went blank. What was I saying, again?

  His lips twitched.

  “And you’re avoiding the question,” I finally told him with a chuckle. Then I bit into my own wing and copied his swoon. Either I was starving, or these were some of the best chicken wings I’d ever eaten. Again, there’s no reason it couldn’t be both.

  My heart and my stomach both agreed. This man was our hero.

  “What do you want to know, then?”

  “The usual. Your life history, background, social security number. You know the drill.”

  “I grew up in Connecticut. Moved down here when I was three, along with my older brother. Parents are still in the area but they mostly keep to themselves. They have a hundred-acre farm close to the edge of the county. I don’t really see them much.”

  I knew the feeling.

  “Any siblings in the area?”

  “Um…” he paused. “one in the area. My brother. I have a sister who joined the Marines, but she’s stationed across the country. I rarely get to see her anymore.”

  “It sounds lonely,” I said, thinking of me and Jackie. Of Kaylen, and how the three of us had been forced to become a tight unit. I looked away for a minute. “Tell me you at least get to have a few family dinners a month. Something to break up your monotony of work.”