Page 7 of The Contractor & the Entrepreneur

Leaning into his strong shoulder and clinging to his bare arm with her muddy fingers, the attraction that had originally zinged through her was back.

Unfortunately, he probably thought she was a hot mess. He was simply being a gentleman, and she wasn’t here to fall for some burly cowboy contractor. She didn’t need to make an already overwhelming situation even worse by getting her heart stirred up. Her father had taught her well that emotion never factored into business.

Sloan stiffened and tried to walk on her own.

Her heels spun out underneath her again, she fell into his arms in a heap and clung to him.

Rhett blinked down at her. Those dark eyelashes framing his blue eyes were beautiful and unfair. She paid money she didn’t have trying to imitate such eyelashes.

“No need to keep falling into my arms, Sloan.”

She actually smiled, despite her predicament and her usual desire to keep confident men at arm’s length. “Throwing myself into your arms is more like it, Rhett.”

She was flirting. It had never felt natural to flirt before, and she’d never let down her guard with a man, especially not an alpha male on a construction site.

He chuckled. “I’ll blame your impractical footwear.”

She laughed at that but wanted to tell him he could blame his magnetism.

Rhett Coleville. A cowboy contractor. Would he be an ally, a thorn, or a distraction?

That remained to be seen.

He was distracting her from the mess she was in, but her attraction to him couldn’t factor in. Sloan never went on more than a casual date or two, no matter how appealing the man was. Kathy despaired that Sloan’s father had ruined her for trusting a man or trusting herself in a relationship.

Her friend was right.

Chapter

Three

Rhett helpedthe mud-soaked Sloan Jensen maneuver through the long driveway. He was impressed that she hadn’t dissolved into tears, could tease with him, and was showing her independence and grit, even though she was in an uncomfortable situation and couldn’t walk on her own.

There was something so right about having her in his arms. The coat was a barrier between them, which was good. He might forget his annoyance at Sloan Jensen if he had her fully in his arms. As it was, he felt bad that she’d gotten in over her head and was racking his brain for the connections he had that might help get her out. Most of his builds were within Kalispell city limits. He hadn’t dealt with the county as much but had heard they were slower than a slug. He usually did concrete as opposed to asphalt. He’d been trying to call in his own favors to get road base down. It was nobody’s fault it was too wet.

“Do you own a pair of work boots, Sloan?” he asked as they progressed. He almost asked about pants but hoped boots would equate to covering those legs of hers. If she was insistent on visiting the sites and being around contractors, she’d gain morerespect and keep herself safe from crude comments if she was at least dressed appropriately.

“No, sir. No need for boots of any kind in Vegas, Arizona, or California.”

That made sense. She was from areas that rarely saw rain and she had been managing this slow-moving project from a distance for a year and a half. It still blew his mind that the Sloan Jensen he’d been cussing in his mind was the beauty covered in filth that he was now escorting through the long drive framed by budding poplar trees.

“Would you accept my offer of a date to Bass Pro Shops after you get cleaned up?”

What was he doing? He couldn’t date the developer. But Sloan and the developer were still two separate people in his mind. He was having a hard time reconciling them into one. Sloan was an alluring, intriguing, confident, and smart force to be reckoned with. The developer was incompetent and detached, putting irrational ideas in the homeowner’s minds and not following through with his, or rather her, own responsibilities.

“A date?” She squinted up at him, rainwater making her dark lashes look impossibly thick as they framed her deep-brown eyes. “What kind of a date is Bass Pro Shops?”

At least she hadn’t outright rejected him.

“It’s a sporting goods store. They have a nice selection of boots, jeans, flannel jackets, cowboy hats, all the essentials.”

“Oh. Not a real date then.” She moistened her lips.

Rhett lost his train of thought. He’d love to take her on a real date. Would she prefer Mercantile Steak or Blue Samurai Sushi Bar? He wanted to know those things about her and that was out of line for their current relationship. Contractor. Developer. A business lunch could be acceptable. A date at an expensive restaurant? Not on the table.

“No, not a real date,” he admitted. “A shopping trip.”

Didn’t women love to shop? Some of his new sisters-in-law seemed to like it.

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