Thunderstruck. Vicki Lewis Thompson
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jokes going all the time when I lived here. Cade had an endless supply of rubber snakes, and I was the master of short-sheeting a bed. We put jalapeño peppers in each other’s food and glued the toilet seats shut. Whatever prank you can think of, we probably did it.”
“But?” She suspected there was more to that little speech.
“But I thought of you as a friend. And now you’re...you’re a woman.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “It sounds as if those two things are mutually exclusive in your world.”
“Well, no, but...” His voice trailed off as if he couldn’t find the right words.
“I’m not trying to defend what Rosie and I engineered, but what if you’d known all along that I was a woman? Would you have felt as confident putting me in charge of the foundation, the wiring and the permitting?”
His hesitation supplied the answer.
“Look at all we accomplished before you ever arrived!” She stepped onto the foundation, which gave her an inch or two advantage over him. She was amused when he immediately climbed up on it, too.
Tarp-covered, numbered piles of twelve-inch logs were stacked nearby. A forklift stood ready to move them into position. Everything else was here, too—windows, the front door, roof beams and the hunter-green metal roofing that would match the other three cabins. Power tools and rolls of ceiling insulation were stored in the second cabin because Damon would be staying in the first one.
“You’ve done a great job.” He gazed at her.
“I’m glad you approve. Not to brag, but we had a hard rain last night, and you notice there’s no evidence of water pooling anywhere on this slab.”
“I did notice that. Who did the trowel work?”
“The guys from Rocky Mountain Concrete and Excavating. And me.”
He nodded slowly, as if absorbing that. “So your name’s Philomena, huh?”
“It was my mother’s middle name.”
“Was?”
“She died when I was a toddler.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t really remember her. My dad always says he loves me twice as much since I only have him.”
“He’s in Sheridan?”
“No, Cheyenne.”
“Hmm.” Damon studied her as if trying to decipher a confusing blueprint.
“The point is, I’m qualified to handle the site preparation, but I’m not sure you would have believed that if you’d been dealing with Philomena instead of Phil.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his sun-streaked hair. “Maybe not. I don’t know a lot of lady construction folks, especially ones who are the owner of the company.”
“It’s not a very big company. I’m the only person in it.”
“Even so, I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.” She looked into his eyes and fought the visceral tug she’d experienced when they’d met. Maybe her attraction to him was partly Rosie’s doing. He’d had a lot of advance billing, and Phil had thought she was taking it all with a grain of salt.
Now she wondered if Rosie’s sales pitch had worked like a charm. She couldn’t deny that Damon Harrison turned her on. Standing here in the meadow surrounded by fragrant pines and wildflowers, she could still distinguish his unique scent. The combination of soap, a woodsy aftershave and a pheromone-laden male aroma excited the hell out of her. She’d only touched him once, when they’d shaken hands, but she wanted to touch him again.
No doubt his skin would be warm and humming with excitement, just like hers. He was one virile specimen, and she was as susceptible as the next woman. Perhaps more so, because she’d been depressingly celibate for the past year.
Sometimes life worked out that way. First you had the dry spell when no eligible males showed up, and then Fate played a joke and brought you a guy who oozed sexuality but had no intention of settling down. She didn’t kid herself that she’d be the woman to change his mind. That kind of thinking led to disaster.
His chest heaved. It was a chest worth contemplating, but she made herself concentrate on his words.
“Listen, Phil.” He sounded endearingly earnest. “I realize that you being a woman shouldn’t change anything, but for me, it changes everything.”
“I don’t know why it should.” She was bluffing. She knew exactly what he meant. They weren’t just a man and a woman working on the same construction project. They were attracted to each other and they were both aware of it.
“You know why it matters.”
She swallowed. “Okay, I do.”
“I’m supposed to view you as another professional, and I’ll try my best to do that, but you’re...you’re beautiful. And I have to ask, because it’s in my DNA, is there some boyfriend or fiancé who’ll clean my clock if I make inappropriate advances?”
“Not at the moment.” She was having trouble catching her breath. “Are you going to?”
“Going to what?”
“Make inappropriate advances.”
“Do you want me to?” He took a step closer.
“I don’t know yet.” She sucked in a lungful of air. “I need to think about that, which I can’t do when you’re standing there telling me I’m beautiful.”
He smiled. “Just stating a fact, ma’am.”
Oh, dear God. She could eat him up with a spoon. “I’m going...” She pointed back toward the house. “Back.” Damn, she couldn’t even talk right. If she didn’t vamoose right this minute, she’d do something totally out of character, like grab him and plant a kiss on that smiling mouth.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No!” She backed away. “I mean, you should stay here and...and inspect the site. That’s what you came out here for, right?”
“I came out here to get my bearings.”
“Okay, but you can still inspect the site. You haven’t really looked at it.”
He didn’t let up on that devastating smile. “Too busy looking at you.”
“That’s why I need to leave. See you at the house.” She hopped down from the cement slab and speed-walked back to safety. She wanted to run, but then she’d be out of breath and chances were everyone was sitting on the porch with their drinks. Good thing the cabins weren’t in view of the porch.
Sure enough, there they sat—Rosie, Herb, Cade and Lexi all relaxing in natural-finish Adirondack chairs. Rosie was the first to throw out a comment. “Don’t tell me you had a fight already.”
“Heavens, no.” Her cheeks felt warm, but everyone was used to seeing her blush. It was what redheads did. “He just wanted to walk around the site some more, and I was getting thirsty.”
“Let me take care of that.” Herb left his chair and crossed to the metal ice chest that always made an appearance during happy hour on the porch. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” She knew better than to argue about being waited on. For as long as she’d been coming out to Thunder Mountain to handle routine maintenance, Herb and Rosie had treated her more like a guest than a worker. They always offered food, drinks and conversation. Consequently, they were clients who’d turned into friends.
She sat down in one of the two empty chairs positioned beside Lexi. Obviously someone, probably Rosie the matchmaker, had set things up so that Damon would take the