Competence kink activated. Or maybe re-activated.
He pulled a pencil from behind his ear and a tape measure from his waist. He used a triangle ruler to draw a straight line, then cut through the board with a saw he had set up on the ground. Sawdust scattered into the air landing on his shoulders and hat, filling the air with the smell of fresh cut lumber. It almost sparkled in the late morning sun giving the whole scene a surreal quality. A very sexy surreal quality. “You want to nail this one?”
I pulled my eyes from where they were stuck to his ass and bit the inside of my cheek. “Tools were always your thing.”
“Then it’s well past time you learned. Come on, grab my hammer and get over here.”
He had to be making these double entendres on purpose.
As much as I did not want to accidentally smack my thumb with a hammer, this scenario brought me back to when we were teenagers and we’d hang out at his place while he tinkered with the old beater car he’d been trying to fix up.
I grabbed the hammer from where he’d set it aside and knelt next to him.
He pulled a nail from a pouch on the tool belt and handed it to me. “Put the nail right there,” he pointed to a spot on the board. “And fire away.”
I swung the hammer clumsily and hit the head slightly off center. The hammer ricocheted off and smacked the wood, leaving a perfectly round dent. I frowned at it.
“Eight out of ten on the swing, two out of ten on the accuracy. You are a bit of a hazard.”
I shoved his shoulder. “You’re one to talk. Do you remember when you were fixing up that old Pontiac and decided to test the engine…in the garage. You did a burnout and filled the whole garage with burning tire smoke.”
He laughed. “In my defense, I was like fourteen. I didn’t even have a license. My dad probably should have been keeping an eye on me.” His smile faded.
Just like old times, I pulled him out of his melancholy. “Let me try again.” I did, but with the same result.
“Alright, before you turn my new step into Swiss cheese, let me help.” He shuffled over until his side was pressing against mine, warm and strong. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and put his big, callused hands over my smaller ones. Together we lifted the hammer and my breath caught at the feel of his biceps flexing against my arms. He held my aim straight as I brought the hammer down and the nail slid halfway into the wood.
“No dents this time.” I turned and beamed at him. His face was so close it would have taken no effort to close the gap between us and kiss him again. It was all I had been thinking about since I left here the other day.
“One down, a dozen more to go.” His eyes darted to my lips but turned back to his project.
“Getting hot out already.”
“It is,” I murmured, then cleared my throat.
My help was more of a hindrance, but he insisted I work with him until the job was done.
Once all the tools were picked up he turned his focus to me. “You weren’t really dressed for carpentry.” He ran his eyes over me as he dusted sawdust from my blouse.
“Are you really concerned about my clothes or is this just an excuse to grope me?”
“Can’t it be both?” He slid his hands over my shoulders to my lower back and pulled me closer to his chest.
“It can definitely be both. I’m more interested in one than the other right about now.” I leaned into him, the width of his chest enclosing my smaller frame.
“Well, it is a nice shirt,” he joked as he tightened his arms around me and brought our lips together. “Still want you to take it off, though.”
Note: First story as senior journalist complete and Wesley is hot!
Chapter 8
Wesley
Mr. Cool I was not.
The sun was streaking through the trees casting a glow around Jill and the idea of an extendedget to know yaperiod was pushed to the back of my mind.
This was Jill.
