Page 13 of Never Kiss the Bad Boy

Goddammit, he’s stubborn. And it’d be easy to say yes. That’d be three, maybe four if I fed Kyle too, to replace the five orders I lost. But before I even let that thought fully form in my mind, I’m shaking my head. “Nope. Not feeding Kathy’s minions.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and I feel like for the first time, I’m seeing the real Kyle. Not the handsome as fuck crew leader, or pool installer, or panty dropper. I cut him with that one. “I’m not her anything. She’s my client.”

I smirk, taking the one advantage I’ve found in our verbal battle. “Sure, keep telling yourself that when she’s got you scurrying about like mice over there doing her bidding. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do so I’m ready for lunch tomorrow.”

Not giving him a chance to answer, I spin around, thinking myself pretty haughty about it too until Kyle clears his throat and calls after me, “Hey, by the way… your flash was on today. But if you want a photo shoot, I’m happy to take my shirt off for you anytime.”

I stop, my heart in my throat as I look back over my shoulder, my eyes wide with shock and a little bit of fear. He saw me?

Kyle is leaning forward with his hands on either side of the door frame, looking like a thirst trap incarnate as he stares intently through the screen to see my reaction to his words. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I spit out the denial by reflex, as if simply denying it happened can erase that he knows what I did. But instead of getting mad, he just chuckles, the cocky fuck. “Yeah, sure. Play innocent all you want, but we both know you were taking pictures of me. You like the jewelry? I’ve had ’em for a while, so you’re welcome to see, touch, and lick them if you want.”

The imagery he’s painting ignites something hot and liquid inside me. I’d like to say it’s anger, and I’d really like to say it’s in my stomach. Truth is, it’s lower, right at my core, and it’s definitely arousal. But I won’t let Kyle know that. “In your dreams,” I shoot back.

His smile melts away. “You have no idea what I dream about where you’re concerned, Miss Becerra.”

His voice has gone husky and rough, and even through the screen, I can feel his eyes drift over me from head to toe, taking his time to peruse every inch of my body. It’s irritatingly sexy. And for some reason, the fact that he called me Miss Becerra makes it that much more ridiculous. And all the sexier. “Call me Dani,” I sigh, “and go away.”

The return of his smile telegraphs that he thinks he’s won this round. Truthfully, I’m not sure he didn’t. But either way, I’ve got fifty bucks I thought I wasn’t getting today, so I’m calling that a win for me.

CHAPTER 6

KYLE

Watching Dani make loops in and out of her house is almost a workout in itself. Or at least my heart thinks so because it’s pounding like I’m the one jogging back and forth from the curb, and I’m standing still, feigning attention on Zeus so that he keeps working. Beneath my hat, I bounce my eyes toward the front yard again and again, this time appreciating the round curve of Dani’s ass in the black skintight shorts she’s wearing today when she climbs up on a truck’s running board to hand over a bag of Styrofoam boxes to the crew lounging in the bed. They thank her with smiles, which she returns easily.

But as soon as she turns around, her smile falls. She’s exhausted, running herself ragged and working herself to the bone, which is something I understand. It might not seem like I do much, considering my current stationary, supervisory position, but I work side by side with my crew during the day and prep quotes and project plans when there’s time, which sometimes means working well into the night to keep my business running smoothly. I’m not an all-work-no-play type like I suspect Dani is, but I do my fair share of labor.

I’m not the only one distracted today, but thankfully, Zeus isn’t distracted by Dani the way I am. Instead, he seems to have developed stage fright from the long line of trucks filled with guys watching our progress. Zeus is the best operator I’ve seen, but he’s been skittish as a cat on a hot tin roof today, jerking the controls rather than smoothly gliding them the way he typically does.

He’s almost done with today’s dig goal, getting the last scoop of dirt from the main hole, when there’s a loud whistle out front. “Motherfucker!” he hisses.

Focused on Dani again, I jerk my eyes back Zeus’s way to see that he’s accidentally pulled up one of the guide stakes. He hasn’t done that since the first week after I hired him, but I don’t have to tell the guys what to do. Wayne’s already moving to fix it, and Frogger gives Zeus a thumbs-up. “Done.” Then the three sets of eyes turn to me for final approval.

“Let me grab the plans to confirm.”

I go out to my truck to get the pool blueprints to double-check the hole size—and yes, there are always jokes about gaping holes with my crew—and I smile at Dani, waving as we cross paths. To me, we’re both hard workers doing our jobs with our whole beings. To her, I’m the asshole who’s fucking her over, so she glares at me as her lip curls into a snarl. For good measure, she flips me off with both barrels.

Not rising to the taunt, I drop her a wink. “Is that an offer?” I wonder aloud, making sure she can hear me. Because despite Dani’s bitchiness, I wouldn’t say no. If I could get her to quit cussing me out and cursing my existence, I bet she’d be a firecracker in bed, dangerous to light and fun to watch explode. “A double offer, even.”

In answer, she suddenly fake lunges at me threateningly. Given that there’s a four-foot-high fence between us, I don’t react, but the guys in the truck she just delivered to start chuckling at my misfortune. She keeps going, her next delivery weighing on her, and though I keep my eyes on Dani, not putting a sneak attack past her, I pull open the passenger door of my truck.

“I’ve never seen Dani so cantankerous. Maybe you should move,” one of the guys suggests helpfully as he puts it in gear, ready to make way for the next truck. “Might save your paint job from getting keyed!” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, loudly rumbling off down the street.

“Yeah, like I hadn’t thought of that,” I murmur to myself as I grab the blueprints.

The first few days on this job, I did half-expect to come out to my truck at the end of the day to find flat tires, or maybe even knifed ones, but like me, Dani must’ve realized that would only stop me from moving my truck. She seems like a smart cookie, though, so I’m pretty sure headlights, windshield, and paint job destruction are still on the table as viable options.

But the guy’s suggestion does give me another idea, so instead of heading back into the yard, I approach the next truck waiting for food. I wave at the guys in the cab. “Hey, can I ask ya a question?”

“Sure, whatcha need?” the driver, a forty-something-year-old guy in a faded Polo shirt, asks. The driver is usually the crew lead, and he probably thinks I’m looking for workers. Except then he adds, “We do interior finishing, not pools, so what d’ya wanna to know about Dani?”

Shit, I guess I’m that obvious. “Got me. This job next door is gonna last weeks, and I don’t want to piss her off any more than I already have. Any tips?”

The way I ask, he might give me ideas about parking, but I’m really hoping he’s got some insight that’ll help me with Dani herself. These guys clearly know her better than I do, and I’m not above asking for help when necessary.

He shrugs, and at first, I think he’s not going to divulge anything. But then he looks toward Dani’s front door like he’s making sure she’s not coming before offering, “She’s strong, mouthy, a hard worker, and she’s sweet as can be—if she likes you, which doesn’t seem to be the case with you. Just to be upfront, if you hurt her in any way, and that includes her business, you’ll have an entire line of trucks full of guys who’re all ready to put you under your damn pool. Hoffa style.”

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