Page 20 of A Package Deal

She flinched, like I’d physically hit her with that comment.

“I’m retired, having sold my business not even a year ago. I have more money than I know what to do with. I moved back home to Blueball to find something to do with my life. This’ll give me that something while helping out a good person.” I chanced a wry grin. “As much as you yell at people and possess the character flaw of being afraid of teeny-tiny spiders, you’re a good person, Slaywright. Let me help.”

The little clock on the kitchen wall that had probably been there before I was born ticked away the seconds as Em glared at me. At several points in my life, I’d envisioned proposing to a woman. In none of those fantasies had it looked like this.

“You’re heavy-handed with your offers of help, Dick,” Em finally said quietly.

“And you’re stubborn as a mule with your acceptance of help, Slaywright,” I drawled right back.

If she thought calling me Dick would make me angry, she clearly didn’t understand how my mind worked. I figured Dick coming out of her mouth was secondary to her brain always being on my dick. Which I didn’t mind at all.

Her head was shaking like she’d already made a decision. “A marriage, even for convenience, would not end well for us. One of us would likely end up dead and I have a feeling I know which one.”

My gaze dropped to the hammer on her tool belt. The same one her hand was currently gripping. Instead of feeling threatened, I felt something stir in my gut. Interest. Fun. Challenge. Something to break up the monotony of the rest of my days. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way. My offer really did come without strings attached, but was it so harmless to extract a little bit of something out of this situation for myself?

I felt her gaze taking in every inch of my smile. “Sounds like fun.”

She rolled her eyes and marched out of the room, careful not to touch me as she breezed by.

“Think about it!” I hollered over my shoulder, chuckling when her only answer was a growl.

CHAPTER NINE

Emmerleigh

After twelve hours of manual labor the day before, my body screamed to sleep in but my mind was a busy little hamster, spinning its wheel for all it was worth.

Marry me.

I’d heard some real dumbass things in my life, mostly courtesy of my ex-boyfriend, but that one took the cake. What the hell was Warrick thinking? It was one thing to let us temporarily move in until we could find housing, but to offer to marry me? The man was certifiably insane.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to see his handsome mug today. I was taking Saturday off to be with Georgia. Sadly, I was letting the television entertain her while I finished packing up our belongings into cardboard boxes that were already labeled from our move here to Blueball.

Being an unemployed, single mom had brought me some painful lows in my life. I’d always been able to pull myself up by the bootstraps and get us back on a firm foundation. My brothers stepped in when they could, but I mostly kept them in the dark about my true financial situation. Lord knew I didn’t need them interfering any more than they had when Cayden had showed his true colors. It was a miracle one of them hadn’t ended up in jail longer than one night.

And yeah. I was a stubborn mule. Always had been. Didn’t plan to change anytime soon. You try growing up with four older brothers and see if you don’t forge a backbone of solid steel. It was that stubborn streak that had gotten me through the rough times. And watching my beautiful daughter twirl around the living room in a princess costume with a big smile on her face was all the confirmation I needed that we were doing just fine.

We were currently in the middle of another one of those lows, which was why I’d reluctantly agreed to take Warrick’s handout of moving in. Very temporarily. I still made several phone calls a day, looking into places to rent. But I was also a practical woman and I knew I couldn’t fight Cayden in a legal battle while also homeless. I’d pick my battles carefully, my eye always on the prize: making a happy, stress-free life for my little girl.

The doorbell rang out, a monotone buzz that made me jump. Georgia went right on watching her show, babbling to the characters on the television while my heart leaped into my throat. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and in my limited time on this earth, doorbells ringing when you weren’t expecting it, usually meant bad news. I wiped my palms on my jean shorts and headed for the door, looking through the peephole first. My shoulders dropped away from my ears when I saw two women on my doorstep.

Swinging the door open, I pasted on a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

The tall blonde woman spoke first, looking adorable in a sundress and evenly tanned skin. “Hi! I’m Paisley and this is Marlo. We heard you’re new here in Blueball and wanted to welcome you.”

“We brought brownies,” deadpanned the black-haired woman with an even expression that gave nothing away.

I blinked. “Um, thanks.”

She shoved the pan of brownies at me, the tin foil covering crinkling loudly. I took it, touched that someone was welcoming me to the town. “I appreciate you swinging by. I need to get out and meet more people, but I’ve just been busy with work.”

“What do you do?” the blonde woman asked.

“I’m a general contractor,” I said, shifting on my feet. I wished I was more social. More comfortable around people. I used to be, but that trusting, easygoing spirit had been wrung out of me by my ex.

“Nice! I’m a line woman,” Paisley responded.

I grinned. Damn. I rarely met a woman who did hard labor like that, though her shoulder muscles confirmed it was true. Honestly, it made me like her instantly. “That’s amazing. You don’t happen to know any female subcontractors, do you? I’m trying to build my crew and am finding most of the men to be big ol’ babies.”

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