Page 41 of His Build
Home. It felt strange to say it, even though it was true. This motel room had started feeling more like home than her condo did, no matter how beautiful she’d made it.
She picked up her phone, hesitating, then texted Graydon to let him know she’d be gone for a few days. After the matter was settled, the relief that she wouldn’t have to dance around what they’d done for at least a few days outweighed the guilt of taking off.
She was doing this for Mrs. Devonshire and for Sadie. Mrs. Devonshire would be devastated without her companion. But Sadie really did need her. Especially with Cliff being a dick as expected.
Sadie tended to feel emotion beyond what the situation warranted—she remembered her being inconsolable over a dead frog when she was a child—one that was flattened to paper as they sometimes found them on the country road by their house. Stan used to chastise Sadie, tell her she was never going to get through life if she didn’t ‘harden up.’ Lucy would let her sleep with her on those nights.
This was why Lucy was going back. Or at least, this was what she told herself as she unlocked her SUV and tossed her bag in the back. It had nothing to do with the man she’d entangled herself with all night. The one who made her chest clamp when she thought of him or when he said her name or so much as looked in her direction.
It had nothing to do with that.
15
Graydon gave a two-finger salute to Fred the concrete finisher as he pulled away—this time in a smaller truck and with Brad conspicuously absent. The concrete had been polished and washed over with Midnight Steel Lite 001-49E—Graydon had triple-checked the manifest before they got to work—and finished with a low-gloss sealant.
He texted Lucy to let her know the job was done—and that the chemicals were too fresh to have anyone inside for the next few days.
But when he turned on his phone, he saw he’d already missed a text from her:
Lucy:I’m sorry, I can’t make it to dinner tonight. Heading back to NYC—bit of a story. Back soon. Rain check?
Graydon’s stomach took a nosedive.
She was running.
He made himself take a breath.Calm down, man. She wasn’t taking off—he knew she was excited about the rest of the job. She’d told him about it last night.
Plus, this was a casual hookup, just like he wanted. No commitment, no feelings.
No fireworks.
Even if their night together had been nothing short of incredible. Even if she was funny and smart and so perfect to him it made his chest hurt.
He looked at the text again, trying to parse some kind of deeper meaning into it, before he growled and shoved the thing in his pocket.
He could use some time on his own, anyway. The stack of invoices on his desk to get through were getting higher than he’d like—playing hooky with a voluptuous redhead in the most carnal way had put him well behind on the paperwork side of things.
The next few days passed with Graydon managing to clear a good half of his to-dos. He also did his absolute best to keep Lucy out of his thoughts.
Though he wasn’t exactly successful. Every time his mind wandered it went straight to her; to the most intimate moments they’d had together. But also to the moments that weren’t in bed: the way her hair fell around her face. The way she considered questions before answering them. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard.
The truth was, the week was pretty much torture. Thankfully, by the end of it, on-site duty called. Friday was installation day for the windows and doors, and that day Graydon was so busy overseeing their installation—particularly the nerve-wracking giant irregularly shaped pieces for the living room showpiece windows—he didn’t have time to think about anything except the task at hand.
After the first giant living room window piece had been installed, with the help of a crane and half a dozen installers, Chris came up next to Graydon. They stood for a minute, hands on their hips, staring up at the enormous window.
“How you doing, Gray?”Chris asked after a few minutes.
Graydon pulled his cap off and wiped the hem of his shirt across his forehead. “I’ll be glad when this part’s over.”
“I’m not talking about the windows.”
Graydon gave him a sharp look, replacing his cap.
But Chris just folded his arms. He wouldn’t let him bullshit his way out of this one.
Graydon peered at his watch. It was a quarter to twelve, and they were between installs. He stuck his thumb and forefinger in his mouth and blew, sounding the whistle for everyone on site. “Back up here at one!” he called.
“It’s Lucy, isn’t it?” asked Chris, after they were settled on the makeshift bench down on the boathouse dock—a long stack of plank siding.
