Page 35 of Long for Me
My parents had it right. Get as far south as possible and live it up with shuffleboard and golf.
Bundled up in a puffy, gray coat, her curves were hidden and she could most likely not even feel my hand, but it wasn’t that that was bothering me as we grew nearer to where the builder of the Rolling Brooks development stood.
No, it was because she hadn’t spoken to me today other than responding, “Yes, Bennett.” “Certainly, Bennett.” “I’ll get to it as soon as I can, Bennett.” “Your last appointment on Monday cancelled, Bennett.”
Cute that she thought her compliance and lack of sass would deter me.
“You know,” I started, leaning in and talking so she could hear me through her hood and plaid scarf she’d wrapped around her throat at least a half dozen times. “Typically when people come to these events, knowing they were going to be photographed, they at least wanted their face visible.”
“It’s freaking cold out here,” she replied. She tugged on her hot pink mittens and shoved them into her coat pocket. “This sounded fun yesterday, but this wind is blasting right through me.”
Which meant hard nipples, pebbled skin, the need for hot bubble baths to warm up, and then after stripping flannel pajamas off her while I climbed into bed...
Shit.
I shook the visual out of my head and slid my hand from her back to her arm. “Stay close to me. Wouldn’t want you slipping on the ice.”
“How noble of you, Bennett.”
“It’d be bad business to have my employee break an ankle when the media’s around.”
She snickered and readjusted her scarf over her mouth. “Of course it would.”
I leaned in and tugged on her scarf. We were inches apart, far enough it would look like we were having a private, but professional conversation, close enough the puffs of breath that left our mouths mingled together in a light cloud. “Plus, if that happened, I’d have to carry you out of here, and I doubt that considering how much you hate me, you would want to be in my arms. Huh?”
“Of course I would.” Her nose wrinkled, from the cold or the idea of being in my arms didn’t matter. I got the reaction out of her I wanted, which was anything small.
We were nearing Miles Ingram, the man who would be overseeing construction on the Rolling Heights neighborhood development when her hand slipped out of her pocket and she tugged on mine. “I don’t hate you, Bennett. I think now that I’ve had time to think, it’s clear we’d never work well together, that’s all.”
A gust of wind hit my chest, slamming into me through my wool pea coat and suit coat and then ripped the breath right out of me.
Recovering quickly, I tugged playfully on her hand. “Then I suppose it’s my new job to prove to you how wrong you are. Miles,” I called, letting go of Rebecca and outstretching my hand to him. “How you doing?”
He gripped my hand and slapped my shoulder with his opposite one. “Fantastic weather to break ground, huh?”
“We even going to be able to get the shovel in?”
“We found a muddy spot.” He winked at me. Miles was a good guy. A family man with four kids, two sets of twins, which blew my freaking mind every time we spoke. He bitched about his kids with the same smile and softness my own dad had done to me every time I’d done something majorly stupid. An attitude of “I’m going to whip your backside” with a dash of “Oh, isn’t that sweet.”
“Come on,” he said, waving out a hand and gestured for Rebecca to walk with us. “Let’s get this done, though. Barbara’s with me today and I promised her I’d get her out of the cold as soon as we can.”
See? Indulgent.
I dropped back a step as he said hello to Rebecca and then I followed them to the main area where a bright red ribbon was tied across a ten-foot span, attached to two poles. A shovel was plopped into the ground and he’d been right. The ground was muddy as hell all around it, but they’d laid out wood pallets so we didn’t sink.
“Oh good,” Rebecca said, clasping her hands together and rubbing. “They were able to get the pallets in. I requested them this morning but they weren’t certain.”
“Good thinking,” I said. “It’s even better considering you’re going to be the one cutting the ribbon and breaking the ground.”
Her jaw dropped like I figured it would. Beneath the fur rim of her coat’s hood, her eyes popped. “What?”
“See? Not always an asshole am I? You did good on this, put more effort into it than anyone else on the team and this small, but important idea you had today further proves it. No one deserves to break ground today more than you. Oh, and when you get back to the office, there’s a file folder on your desk chair from me. A proposition if you will.”
Her eyes bugged further. Instead of waiting to hear what she had to say, I squeezed her hand and headed toward the rest of the assembled crew. I’d give a short, barely three-minute speech about the neighborhood and our excitement for the project similar to every other project we did, and then we’d pose for pictures while Rebecca took care of the rest.
Then, we’d let the games begin.
