Page 22 of To Have and to Scold

He stops taking in the room and shoots a glare my way. Probably because I insist on calling him that. “I’ve been supervising some trench work. I’m in no condition to come into your office.”

“Supervising? Looks like you were right there in the trenches with them.” I laugh at myself. “In the trenches! I’m so funny,” I tease.

He doesn’t seem to appreciate my humor. “I’m a very hands-on boss.” Except the suddenly changed look he’s giving me—serious with a touch of smolder—sends crackles through the ether.

Well now. I didn’t need that image of him beinghands-onin my mind right now.

“I’m sure you are,” I retort and widen my gaze. There’s no way I’m going to let on that I’m now thinking about his hands, his large, strong and very capable looking hands. “I don’t think I’ve been getting anything from the website.”

“I don’t know much about it. I was passing by the reception desk when she asked me to ask.” His eyes roll heavenwardfor a second. “She said something might have gotten lost in translation when they tried to add your email to the forwarding list. The mayor’s new wedding website fields comments from people, which is how she’s gotten some of the weddings booked so far.”

“Well, that sounds important then. I’ll reach out to Mary.” I almost make a shooing motion, but I don’t need to be a jerk. It’s just that if I spend time with Beck in any capacity, I’m going to notice his appeal, and how handsome he is. It’s a danger I can’t afford to flirt with.

And I certainly can’t afford toflirtwith him.

I rearrange my stapler, in a lovely matte mint-green shade, and little crystal dish with paper clips the color of rainbow sherbert. With great restraint, I force a smile. “Is there anything else you need? Has the carpet layer gotten back in town?”

“Nope. Not yet. But my crew’s been working on the electrical. Almost done with that.”

“Oooh. I love a good lighting package. Can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s nice. Nothing too fancy.”

My heart sinks at that. We need fancy. The mansion needs all the help it can get. “And how are the deadlines coming along? I heard there’s a shortage of lumber.”

He bristles. “Not a shortage. Just higher than normal pricing.” He gestures to the enormous calendar I’ve mounted on my wall next to my desk. “You got some client meetings today?”

“I do, yes. Three of them, actually. One’s on video chat but the other two are local couples, so we’re getting a bunch of family members, too.” Sue me, but I much prefer meeting with clients without the addition of all the extra family members and their strong opinions.

“Nice. Who are they?” He inches a little closer and his head tilts to the side.

I toggle over to the calendar on my computer. “Uh, Miranda Beasley and Trent Carson. And then after that, it’s someone named Mike Whitman and Stacey Pringle?”

“No way!” Beck’s expression lightens even more. "I know all four of those guys. I knew Miranda and Trent were getting married, but I didn’t even know Mike and Stacey were dating. That’s amazing.”

I swivel my chair. “Are you a romantic, Mr. Billingsley?”

He pulls a face, sticking his tongue out to the side. It’s juvenile, but it still makes me laugh. “Not in the slightest. But Mike and Stacey both work at the high school. Stacey was in administration and Mike taught me math. It’s awesome they’re getting married, is all.”

“Is there anyone in town you don’t know?”

His smile reminds me of how I pictured his golden retriever—all bright and jaunty. He enters the room and sits down. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Everyone calls me for repairs or construction work, so yeah, I’d say I know everyone around here. Except for the sunbirds and tourists.” He leans back in Walter’s old chair, something I haven’t yet had a chance to replace. “I’ve known most everyone here at Integrity for as long as I can remember. Before they started working for me, they worked for my dad, who retired when I was ready to take over.”

“And your parents are in Africa right now?”

“I don’t think they want to come back. We think maybe if my sister has a baby, that will motivate them.”

“Well, they’ll be back for your brother’s wedding, right?”

Beck’s mouth forms a thin line before he gives a slight nod. There is something going on with his brother.

“Speaking of weddings, if you hear of anyone getting engaged, you’ll have to send them my way,” I say. “I need to conjure up six more couples to help make the wedding business a success for the Dobbs. If we scratch their backs, they’ll scratch ours, right?”

“Of course.”

“And why so cynical about romance?” I ask. “You looked like I was making you touch something moldy.”

He shrugs, frowning at the moldy comment. “I don’t know. I just am. What about you? Something about the other night tells me you’re a romantic.”

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