Page 2 of His Build
Loading up the lumber was a small but labor-intensive job, and the late spring sun was warm on his back. Soon, Graydon was drenched with sweat. When he got the last of the pieces tied up, he stood and inspected the job, lifting the front of his shirt up to mop his forehead.
Then there was a loud thud from the road. The two men jerked their heads up toward the intersection next to the parking lot, where a silver hybrid SUV had slammed into the back of a jacked-up mud-streaked pickup.
“Well, shit again,” Chuck said.
Though the noise had been loud, the accident didn’t look serious—the SUV hadn’t hit hard enough to deploy the airbag, and the woman in the SUV had her hands over her mouth, which was a sure sign of surprise rather than injury. Unfortunately, she had slammed into exactly the wrong dude: Brady Smyth, the high school bully-turned town galoot.
Graydon grimaced as the truck door swung open and a pair of meaty legs in camo Bermuda shorts and flip-flops slid out onto the side step.
“What the hell,” Brady yelled.
Graydon sighed and hopped over Chuck’s tailgate. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he jogged over to the scene of the fender bender.
Brady had a shaved head and wore his sunglasses around the back of his neck, which gave the odd impression of having a face carved into the flesh there.
“What the hell you thinkin’ lady?” he shouted.
Graydon arrived at the mud-slicked truck just as Brady took his first step towards the SUV.
“Hang on,” Graydon said, in a tone that made Brady startle. He scowled when he saw who it was. Graydon and Brady had known each other since kindergarten, and the two had irritated each other for just as long.
“Did you see what she did?”Brady said.
“I did. And I’m going to help you figure this out.”
“But—” he sputtered.
“You wait right here.”
“Hell no I won’t, I—”
“I said, wait here.” Graydon leaned over Brady, who danced a little on his feet but folded his arms and shut his mouth. Graydon had been in enough tussles with Brady to know patience wasn’t his strong suit, but Brady knew Graydon well enough to heed the note of warning in his voice and stay put for the time being.
Graydon went over to the SUV. The sun was glaring off the glass of the driver’s side window at just the wrong angle to see inside, so he made the universal roll-down-your-window gesture.
As the glass slid away, the words Graydon was about to utter slid away with it.
Behind the wheel was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional supermodel sense; and she was considerably more filled out than a supermodel, with a plumpness to her that made every part of him want to point to attention. She looked to Graydon as if God had gone through a checklist of all the things he didn’t even know he was into until right at that moment: deep red hair that curled at her shoulders; pale skin with freckles everywhere, even right down into the deep scoop of her tank top. And curves. Curves for days.
She didn’t say anything, but as he watched, the woman’s skin flushed bright pink up her neck and onto her cheeks. For an agonizing few seconds more, Graydon found himself unable to move.
“I—” he began.
Her eyes—hazel, he noted, because it was all he could do, narrowed. She reached into the purse in the passenger seat next to her.
Only when she turned away from him did he find his voice. “Are you hurt?”
She looked over her shoulder at him, then down at her body as if to check for injuries. It was the absolute worst thing she could have done. Even if he’d had a gun to his head, he couldn’t stop himself from following her gaze. The gentle curve of her upper arm; the rounded softness of her breast under it. Her thighs, pushing at the edges of her fitted navy shorts…
He groaned, inwardly.
For the first time, she opened her mouth. “No, I’m not hurt.” Her voice was a little deeper than he’d expected and just like her, curved around the edges. It had the shape and sound of a cello. “But I better give him my information.”
“Um,” Graydon said.
Um. What the hell is wrong with you? Say something!
“Where’d you learn to drive, lady?” Brady shouted, saving Graydon from having to come up with something clever. And snapping him back to the matter at hand.
