The Fix (The Carolina Connections, #1)(17)

“Hey!” I yelled out to his retreating, sexy-as-hell back. “Nate, or whatever the hell your name is! You get back here and apologize to her. That was totally uncalled for!” My fists found purchase on my hips and I prepared for a fight.

“I’m sorry,” Mark, looking not so cocky anymore, tried to interject, but the bell had rung on his bout. It was time for the heavyweight round. I shot him a look that silenced him, so I knew my message had been received.

Nate was back. “Lady, I don’t have time for this. Doug has already told your friend by phone to contact the zoning board if you all have a problem. They permitted us to put this building here and as long as we follow all the rules set out by them, the city, and the inspector—which we will—this is not my problem!” He brought his face closer and ripped off his sunglasses, revealing brilliant blue eyes that were frosted over with disdain. “Look, it will probably end up being a nice little salon so you and all your friends can sit and get your nails done and have a little gossip session where you can talk shit about me all you want. I don’t care. Now, if it’s all right with you, I think I’ll get back to work.”

“What in the hell is going on here?!” came a loud and very, very familiar voice from behind me.

Well, shit.

I looked over my shoulder to find Gavin looking completely perplexed and Rocco riding on his shoulders, both hands grasping Gavin’s ears like handles. But even the sight of my two guys couldn’t stop the raging storm brewing in response to this absolute prick in front of me. It was on.





Chapter Seven





Getting Creative





NATE

“I got this, Gav!” the ball of indignant fury in front of me called over her shoulder to—wait, wasn’t that the new kid? What was going on here?

Why did I even bother getting out of bed this morning?

I should have known the day would be crap-tastic from the moment I woke up.

I’d accidentally left my phone, which doubles as my alarm clock, in the kitchen last night so I missed my alarm and, by default, my morning run. I need my morning run to clear my head and make a game plan for my day. I think better, feel better, and probably behave better if I get to run first thing.

And not only did I miss my alarm, I also missed half a dozen phone calls from work. The freaking siding we were supposed to install at the apartment project today had arrived late yesterday and nobody noticed until early this morning that it was the wrong kind. Mark called first thing with that one. It was unclear if the error came from the manufacturer or from our end, which would make it even more complicated. But either way it left us with half a crew spending the day with their thumbs up their asses while we fell behind schedule and bled money. Not ideal.

I made a few more calls and we were able to shuffle some things around, but we were still going to be running behind until we got the right siding—and who the hell knew when that would be?

And behind all of that was the nagging fear that somebody would slip up and tell my father about it, which would bring on a whole new shitstorm coming from both him and my mom. Good Christ, I felt like chucking it all and catching the first flight back to Texas. This day was like screwing a skunk—it had hardly even started and I’d already had enough.

Mark, Doug, and I decided to touch base in person at the Old Oak Ridge site where Doug and I were planning on starting our day anyway. So, without time for coffee, breakfast, or my run, I’d taken the fastest shower known to man and headed over there. Suffice it to say, I was not in a receptive mood for any more bullshit when I’d arrived.

Enter the amateur pageant queen and her friend. Her smoking, fuck-hot friend with glossy dark hair halfway down to her ass and intense gray eyes that lit my dick on fire. Not to mention the rest of the package. To say I’m a tits-and-ass kind of guy is like saying the Cookie Monster has a vague fondness for sweets. And, goddamn, did this girl have some T and A. She had a little bit of that Christina Hendricks thing from Mad Men going on. And she was serving up the attitude to go with it. Maybe Texas was a bad idea after all.

I knew I was being a total dick, and I’m sure my hot little friend and her red-headed neighbor didn’t deserve it, but I couldn’t help myself. The crew was almost there and I had just gotten off the phone with the siding company—they were estimating another two weeks before they could get the right order in. That was a shit-ton of money and time, and I didn’t have the patience to deal with these neighborhood people who were wasting my time with shit that wasn’t even going to be an issue for months, if ever. So I released the asshole on them.

Sue me and then get me a coffee.

But it looked like this girl was just getting started, and now I was finding out she was somehow involved with one of my crew? What the fuck was going on with this day?

Her eyes blazed into mine as she drew in a deep breath in preparation for whatever was about to come. It was impossible to ignore the rise of her perfect breasts, and I caught just a glimpse of black lace at the vee of her red shirt from my elevated vantage point. It almost made me want to be cooperative. Almost.

“Listen here, you misogynistic prick.”

Contrary to everything I’m sure I was expected to feel at that point, my dick rose to attention (“You called?”).

“You can’t stand here making your half-assed assumptions and treating us like we’re some brainless little fairies flitting around all day with nothing better to do than take a crap on you and your macho-man bullshit.”