Page 15 of The Contractor & the Entrepreneur

“No, thank you, Rhett.” She hoped she said the words sincerely enough. She’d be lost without him right now. For the first time in years, she was letting her independent guard down and letting a man take care of her. She returned the smile but had to add, “But don’t think I’ll be some docile female all the time.”

“I wouldn’t dare conjure that thought.” He winked, turned, and rapped his knuckles hard on the door before she could return the banter.

Her stomach hopped in anticipation of what may be coming.

“What?” a man’s voice hollered from inside.

Sloan startled.

Rhett waited but no footsteps came. He knocked again.

“We don’t want any,” another yell came.

He glanced back at her. “Plucky for squatters, aren’t they now?”

She laughed at his fake British accent and appreciated the humor.

“Do you get many squatters up here?” she whispered. It was a problem on construction sites in Vegas simply because of how many homeless people resided in the area with the temperate climate. She couldn’t imagine someone being homeless here. She shivered at the thought, noticing the chilly air. Rhett had kept her warm even without her coat.

Rhett leaned toward her, looking like he might wrap her up tight again. He was only in a T-shirt. He looked strong, ultra-fit, and not cold at all.

“Not really,” he said, facing the door again. “If they couldn’t find a place, they’d freeze to death.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “Let’s see if it’s unlocked.”

The door turned in his hand. He pushed it inward, and warmth, light, and the scents of garbage and unwashed bodies spilled out into the drab, rainy late afternoon. It was an odd mix for certain.

“What are you doin’ here?” a man demanded, storming up to the door.

Rhett stepped more fully in front of her and put his left hand on her arm as if to keep Sloan back. She glimpsed the man’s face before Rhett blocked her view. Her cousin Jaxon. He was only a couple years older than her and would’ve been handsome if not for the perpetual scowl on his face and his teeth turning black from chewing tobacco.

“I’m here to ask you to vacate the premises, or I can drag you to your truck by your ankles,” Rhett said evenly. The threat was understated, but his voice was steel. “Which would you prefer?”

“I’ve been waitin’ for you to come to town, pretty cousin,” Jaxon taunted her, not answering Rhett. “We’ve been dyin’ to give you a proper welcome.” He cracked his knuckles.

“This is my house. You have no right to be here,” Sloan threw at him, poking her head around Rhett’s shoulder to glare at her cousin. He was bigger than she remembered.

Please help me be brave and don’t let him hurt Rhett, she pleaded with her Father above.

“Oh, you don’t understand the welcome I have for you.” He slammed his fist into his other palm, grinning at her, his teeth yellowish-brown.

She put a hand on Rhett’s back, the muscle there reassuring her that Jaxon wouldn’t get through him and hurt her. Where was Preston? Both yells had been Jaxon’s voice. The two were always together and there’d been two trucks out front. Together her cousins would overpower even the tough Rhett Coleville. Could she call 911 or help somehow?

“The welcoming party is over,” Rhett said, as relaxed and confident as she longed to be. Was it the gun, or had his upbringing taught him how to be truly brave? He wore his courage like a second skin. “Are you leaving, or should I thrash you first to make my point and then drag you out of here?”

Jaxon let out a roar and rushed at him.

Rhett stepped into the house, going toward the raging bull instead of ducking away. Sloan’s eyes widened in surprise and horror. Jaxon was big, and mean, and she could bet he would fight dirty.

Rhett dodged to the side and then slammed his elbow into Jaxon’s upper back as the man flew by.

Jaxon slammed into the hardwood floor face first. A loudwhumpand a string of curses flowed from him.

Sloan gave a happy and surprised cry.

Jaxon rolled over and struggled up, coming at Rhett with his fists whirling. Rhett blocked his advance, knocking his punches away, and then landed two well-placed jabs into Jaxon’s cheek and jaw.

“Hey!” Preston appeared in the hallway, his hair and clothes rumpled as if he’d been sleeping. He rushed toward the fight. Oh, no.

Sloan tottered into the room on her muddy heels, not sure what she could do to help, but intent on doing something. Rhett was helping her out of the goodness of his heart; she couldn’t let these two brutes double-team him, injure or possibly even kill him.

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