Page 20 of Never Kiss the Bad Boy

Little does he know that even coming here is a demonstration of my bravery. And my stupidity. I don’t have time for flirty, charming, annoying assholes who make my life harder than it already is. Yet, here I sit, smiling and having a good time, my headache all but forgotten.

I don’t let him know that, though. Despite actually getting on his bike and coming to breakfast, I’m not one of Kyle’s congenial, ‘hop on’ women, so I narrow my eyes and demand, “Hand it over and nobody gets hurt.” But I add a tiny hint of a smile so he knows I’m kidding. A little.

He passes over the other two slices, grinning easily. “See? Common ground is possible.”

CHAPTER 8

KYLE

Sunday night, I went to bed with high hopes. I truly felt that our truce for Saturday morning breakfast would continue into this week, making things easy-breezy for the next phase of work, given that Dani rode on my bike with her arms wrapped around me, leaning with me like we were dancing down the highway, and watched me load my bike up into the back of my now-free truck. I thought I’d made great progress with the snappy neighbor. Hell, I was even willing to admit that having such a beautiful woman on my bike felt good in a more than neighborly way.

But that was nothing more than wishful thinking, apparently, or more likely, hungover Dani.

Monday morning, Dani is back to hands-on-her-hips, short-tempered glares, and her lush mouth is pinched down to a tight little frown. Of course, that might have something to do with the huge flatbed truck currently parked at the curb, hanging halfway into ‘her’ space.

I tried, I really did. But Kathy refused to let the truck sit in her driveway, no matter how many times I told her that this would affect the timeline and be one of those ‘issues’ we wanted to avoid. After that conversation went nowhere fast, the driver told me my options were to refuse delivery or take it where I could get it, so they’re unloading at the street and I’ve got all four of us shouldering and hauling stacks of steel rebar around the house and into the back yard.

It’s ridiculous and is definitely going to warrant a more in-depth discussion with Kathy, but for this morning, I was stuck and out of alternatives unless I wanted to call it quits for the day. Unfortunately, that would ultimately punish me and the guys more than Kathy.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dani shouts over the fence as Zeus and I come back around for our tenth trip. The rebar’s in fifteen-foot lengths, which means we need to carry them in bundles of five to eight in order to not overload the guys, and that means trip after trip from the curb to the back yard. It’s early, not yet hot, but I’m drenched in sweat, with a fresh river running down my spine every few seconds.

Waving Zeus on to keep working and grab the next load, I go over to Dani’s fence and hold out my hands placatingly. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’m working as fast as I can to get the truck out of here before your early pickups start.”

“Not good enough,” she snaps, pointing at the truck. “Get that damn thing out of here!” She glances at her phone, checking the time the same way I’ve been doing for the last hour. It’s gonna be close, real close. Her first customers usually come by around nine, and it’s eight thirty already.

I nod and gesture to my guys, who’re hauling ass despite the huge, heavy loads of rebar on their shoulders. “We’ve got to unload it. It’s the only way I can get the truck moved, so let me get back to work. We’re going as fast as we can.” The repeated claim doesn’t help. In fact, she narrows her eyes, measuring Wayne’s pace, which has fallen behind Zeus and Frogger, but c’mon, the man is twice their age so he deserves some slack.

She doesn’t stop me, but as I’m hustling with a new urgency in my movement, I hear her heavy sigh, with a muttered pendejo as I walk away. And I add two more bars to my load, which I can handle for now.

Yeah, whatever goodwill those pancakes bought me is long gone now. Poof! Disappearing into the ether, leaving only an angry Dani, who will likely be contemplating something much more painful than blocking my truck in overnight while she cooks today.

Despite my best efforts, pushing to the point that my lungs are burning from the rapid pace, we don’t make it. At least not for Dani’s morning pickups, but thankfully, the delivery truck is long gone when crews start lining up for lunch.

I let the guys take an extra-long break to make up for the unexpected, shouldn’t have been that way, delivery and unloading this morning, which means we all get a front-row seat as Dani continues stomping across her yard, back and forth, with too-frequent glares toward Kathy’s back yard and us.

Well, not really us. Those looks are most definitely intended for yours truly, alone. I can almost feel her cursing my name with each stomp of her foot. Kyle… fucking asshole… hate that fucker… Kyle. That last one is said with a full-blown, snarling growl I’m sure Dani’s more than capable of.

At the end of the day, I send Wayne and the guys on their way, wanting to fix things with Dani without an audience because I’m pretty sure she’s going to rip me a new one. Besides being too proud to let that happen—again—in front of the guys, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want them to see her treating me that way, however rightly earned, and make assumptions about Dani being bitchy or anything.

The last thing I need is them complaining about Kathy and Dani. One, I’ll go along with. The other, I won’t take kindly to. Call me a glutton for punishment, I guess, but I feel a kindred spirithood with Dani and her business, and I want to protect her, despite her repeatedly reminding me that she can handle things herself. Even if it’s protecting her from me and my work for her neighbor.

I cross Kathy’s yard, intending to hop the fence between her and Dani, but stop as I approach. There are a bunch of flowers trailing along the fence, fresh plantings it looks like, some bougainvillea, but mostly nasturtiums and mandevillas.

Must be the garden Kathy was talking about tending. And of course, the plants are practically hugging the property line to the very inch, giving her a ready and easy excuse for why she’d be hanging out, looking into Dani’s yard for hours on end. Yeah, that fence is going to be good… for Dani’s sake.

Not really giving a fuck whether it’s a good idea or not, I grab a few handfuls of the brightly colored nasturtiums and mandevillas, pulling the vines down and turning them into an ad hoc bouquet. Instead of climbing the fence, I walk toward the front and U-turn around it to save the fistful of flowers. Knocking on Dani’s door, I steel my spine for the incoming wrath of a pissed-off Dani Becerra.

I’m not disappointed, because when she answers, she nearly hits me with the screen door, and her dark eyes are practically shooting lasers which slam into my chest and burrow through me. Quickly, I hold the flowers up. “I’m sorry.”

She drops her eyes to the offering, scoffing. “Did you steal flowers as a way of apologizing?” she demands, sounding offended rather than appreciative. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I don’t apologize, not for that. There’s enough other shit I need to smooth over. Flowers? Not even on the top five list. “We’re gonna rip them out when we redo the fence anyway, so someone might as well get some enjoyment out of them.”

“Pretty sure Kathy did not intend for that to be me.”

Despite her argument, she still takes the flowers, the tiniest hint of a smile teasing at the corner of her lips, though I’m not sure if that’s because of the pretty blooms or because the theft will definitely piss off Kathy. Mostly, I’m encouraged that she doesn’t immediately throw them on the ground and start stomping them into pink and purple sludge, which is a ridiculously low bar, but with Dani, I have to take a good sign where I can get one.

“And if she sends the police over here and this” —she holds the bouquet up— “is the proof that I trespassed, I’m going to put out a hit on you from my jail cell.”

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