Currant Creek Valley. RaeAnne Thayne
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in her hands. She was an idiot who shouldn’t be let out in public.
This man was charged with building her kitchen in an insane handful of weeks and the first thing she did to welcome him aboard the project was accuse him of stealing what were probably his own tools.
If she wanted this kitchen to provide ideal working conditions, she had to work closely with the contractor Brodie had picked. How would she be able to do that now, with this inauspicious beginning?
She propped the board against the wall and faced him with what she hoped was an apologetic look. “Oops.”
To her relief, he didn’t seem upset, even though a little annoyance would be completely justified. “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t call the police?”
“It was an honest mistake. You have to admit, you’re a scary-looking dude, Sam Delgado. It must be the ink.”
“I’m a pussycat when you get to know me.”
“I doubt that.”
“Just wait.”
She knew perfectly well the words shouldn’t send this little tingle of awareness zinging through her.
At least he was being decent about her almost beaning him with a board. She had to give him points for that. “I wasn’t expecting you until the weekend. Brodie said you couldn’t start until then.”
“I wrapped up some other projects in Denver ahead of schedule and was able to break away a few days early. Figured I would come to town and do a little recon of the situation before my crew comes up tomorrow.”
The way he spoke, the short haircut and what she glimpsed of his tattoo—which she could now see looked vaguely military-like—reminded her that Brodie had told her the guy was ex-army Special Forces, like Charlotte’s brother, Dylan.
She figured it was safe to move closer to him. “Well, welcome to Hope’s Crossing, Sam Delgado. I can promise you, not everyone in town will greet you with a two-by-four.”
He smelled good, she couldn’t help noticing. Like wind and sunshine and really sexy male. She really was an idiot to even notice.
“I don’t blame you for being cautious. Any woman would have to be a little wary to find a stranger invading her space. No harm done.” He set the reciprocating saw down on the floor and the belt with it.
“Brodie tells me you have definite ideas for your kitchen. I’m glad you’re here, actually, so we can go over what you want. Care to fill me in?”
“Now?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
She could think of several reasons, beginning with her heart rate, which still hadn’t quite settled back down to normal. “Um, sure. Come on through to where the kitchen should be and we can talk.”
“Let me grab your plans,” he said, pointing to the back door.
When he returned, he unrolled the blueprints and she spent the next few moments detailing what she wanted in the kitchen, and the design she and Brodie had already come up with. Much to her delight, Sam had a few suggestions that would actually improve the work flow and traffic patterns.
“Are you sure you can bring us in with only a month before our projected opening?” she asked.
“It will be a push, I’m not going to lie to you, but my guys are up to the challenge. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I didn’t think we could do it.”
“I admire confidence in a man,” she said. That wasn’t the only thing she was admiring about Sam Delgado, but she ordered herself to settle down. For all she knew, he might indeed have a storage unit full of severed heads.
On the other hand, Brodie trusted him, and that carried a great deal of weight, as far as she was concerned. He wouldn’t have brought Sam in on the project unless he had vetted him fully.
Even if Brodie weren’t giving her this unbelievable chance at her own restaurant, he was also the husband and son of two of her dearest friends.
What was wrong with a little harmless flirtation? In fact, Sam Delgado might just be the cure to the restlessness her mother was talking about. She hadn’t dated anybody in months, not since Oliver, the very funny Swiss ski instructor who had returned to the Alps midseason.
Sam was actually just her type—big, gorgeous and only in town for a few weeks. He would be leaving Hope’s Crossing as soon as he wrapped up work on the restaurant. Why couldn’t she spend some enjoyable leisure time with him while he was here, as long as he still had plenty of time to finish the project?
“Looks clear enough,” Sam said, rolling up the blueprints he had pulled out of his pickup truck. “Since all the appliances and shelving and counters are already here, it’s only a matter of putting everything in place. You should still be able to have your mid-May opening.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Delgado,” she said.
“Once my crew comes tomorrow, we can dig in.”
“How many guys will you have?”
“Three others, besides me. We’ve all worked together a long time.”
“Does everybody have a place to stay?”
“Brodie has made reservations at a hotel on the edge of town. Nothing fancy but it will do for now.”
“Good. Good.” She smiled. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“I’ll do that.”
It was now or never, she thought, and plunged forward. “So I don’t see a ring. Is there a Mrs. Delgado?”
Plenty of men didn’t care to wear a wedding ring, either out of personal preference or deliberate obfuscation. When she was interested in a man, she was scrupulously careful about double-checking that particular point.
Some hard-earned lessons tended to stick with a woman.
Sam Delgado blinked, obviously a little bemused by the question. If she hadn’t been watching him carefully for some sign of deceit, she might have missed the tangle of emotion in his gaze.
“As a matter of fact, there is. My brother’s wife.”
“But you don’t have one of your own?” she pressed.
“Not currently.”
His guarded reaction didn’t seem particularly encouraging. He could be engaged—another hot button of hers because of family history—but she hadn’t missed that sadness in his eyes and sensed he was telling the truth.
“Do you anticipate that changing anytime in the near future?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no. Why are you so curious?”
She shrugged. “Personal rule. I don’t date men who are married, engaged or otherwise involved in a long-term relationship.”
A corner of his mouth danced up. “I didn’t realize we were planning on dating.”
“Planning on it? No. But if the opportunity arose, I like to be certain ahead of time that both parties are...unentangled. Poachers bug the hell out of me. And men who allow themselves to be poached are even worse.”
He gazed at her for a long moment as if he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “You don’t have any problem speaking your mind, Ms. McKnight, do you?”
“Please. Call me Alex. Especially considering we might be planning on dating at some point in the foreseeable future.”
He laughed as he shook his head. “Here’s something you should know about me then. Call me old-fashioned, but I like to be in the driver’s seat in these sorts of things.”
She gave him a sultry smile over her shoulder. “Oh, you foolish, foolish man. You might think you’re