Page 4 of The Contractor & the Entrepreneur

She pushed the ugly memories away. She hadn’t folded and that was a miracle in and of itself. Somehow she and her Heavenly Father would accomplish more miracles and this gorgeous forest would be graced with beautiful estates and she would prove she could succeed without her father.

“Well …” She focused on appearing self-assured, a quality that had kept her head above water on construction sites, kept her free of her father for over seven years, and was a necessity working in a man’s world. As she quivered in her wet and cold heels, a muck-covered spectacle, maybe self-assured was too bold. “Are you going to say what a pleasure it is to meet me?”

Where had that come from? She didn’t flirt or tease with anyone, especially not construction workers.

Rhett Coleville’s dark eyebrows lifted. Short dark curls poked out underneath that appealing cowboy hat, and he had dark brows and lashes, a thick dark beard, tanned skin, and the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever viewed. He was mesmerizing and throwing her off her plan. She wanted to confide in him all the stress of the past twenty months from her perspective, beg him for patience, and then ask him to dinner.

Oh, my. No. She couldn’t let down her guard like that. She always put on a brave façade and no man could get through it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jensen,” he said in a husky drawl that made her stomach dance. Yet that look in his eyes… He had been drawn to her, but now he was questioning his ownsanity. Was he too tough and brawny to respect a woman on a construction site? Construction was in her blood. Her father owned commercial construction companies in Phoenix and Los Angeles, and with her mom dying when she was ten, she’d been dragged to sites for as long as she could remember. Her father had drilled certain rules into her—dress professional, demand respect, don’t allow men to make an issue of your beautiful face.You are Eric Jensen’s daughter.How many times had she heard that? As if the world should quake at his name. She sadly still did quake internally around him; that was why she avoided him at all costs. She’d escaped to college, met her best friend Kathy, found her Savior, and trained herself to stand on her own.

No man would tell her what to do ever again.

But Rhett Coleville … the cowboy contractor was mesmerizing. Those striated muscles in his arms were eye candy. The way it had felt to touch the bulging muscles in his chest and shoulders made her want to sigh like a besotted female and try it again. Unfortunately, that would never be in her plans. Even if he wasn’t annoyed by her.

Rhett was young to be a general, but she was young to be a private developer. Hopefully they could both overlook age. She’d try to find common ground and be kind, but she still wouldn’t let a man boss her around. He’d ‘suggested’ she should head back to Vegas? Not happening. She was here to make this development succeed or go broke trying.

“It’s Sloan,” she corrected, which made his eyebrows rise again as he’d requested Rhett earlier but she’d reverted to Mr. Coleville. “And what are you doing out here in only a T-shirt?” She looked that T-shirt over to avoid his enticing blue eyes. “Don’t make me use my construction voice?” Maybe he did have a sense of humor. “I think I just heard that construction voice.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Terrifying.”

She laughed and he actually joined her. It was a relief and much needed. Maybe they could be friends.

“Forgive me for using my construction voice,” he said in a husky timbre she really liked.

“As long as you don’t use it again,” she sassed back, surprised at how easy bantering with him was. It was unfamiliar and exciting.

“We’ll see.” He grinned. His face changed from gorgeous to carved by heaven above as he looked her over with a slow, enticing smile. “You are one to talk about me only wearing a T-shirt, Ms. Jensen. I have a flannel inside the build, but when I saw you teetering through the quagmire on your high heels, in your ridiculous high dollar coat, I rushed out to gallantly rescue you.”

She was surprised he didn’t flex his lovely arm muscles as he said ‘gallantly rescue’.

“You didn’t need to rescue me, Mr. Coleville,” she said in a spicy tone, irritated and also trying to hide her interest in him and the humiliation of falling on her rear in the mud. Her cheeks and neck went hot. He thought she looked ridiculous in these heels and the ‘high dollar coat’ that cost sixty-two dollars and had rarely been worn in Vegas.

“Hmm.” He folded those beautiful arms across his equally alluring chest and smirked at her. “You would’ve preferred I left you in the muck?”

She considered that and the honest answer was no, but she still prickled. “I haven’t played in the mud in years. Maybe I was enjoying it.”

He chuckled. “You looked like you were.”

Sloan couldn’t help giving him a conspiratorial smile. Their conversation was half teasing and half taking shots. She was drawn to him and irritated at the same time. She didn’t know what to expect from him next but looked forward tothe interaction. Could she make this tough cowboy general contractor an ally to help her deal with the other irritated and behind-schedule contractors?

“Well.” She clasped her hands together. “Shall we go inside and look around? You should be closed in and ready for sheetrock, raw plumbing, and electrical wiring by now, but you’re roofing and framing still. Waiting on glass delivery and installation?” She gave him a pointed stare. “Three weeks behind, then?”

His jaw slackened at her sharing a bit of construction knowledge. He rubbed at his thick beard and said, “Forgive me for pointing fingers earlier, Ms. Jensen, but you seem to know construction. So you’ll understand that I’ll be able to catch up as my foreman and I have been helping with the framing. We have some extra time our hands as most of my other almost-completed projects are going smoothly and none of my other under-contract custom homes are dumb enough to start this early in the season.” He gave her a pointed look. “Also, my electricians, sheet rockers, and plumbers are on standby for this project. They will work double time because of the mutual respect I’ve fostered with them and the fact that not much other early phase construction is happening in the mountains of Montana at the moment.”

Sloan drew in a breath. He was upset she’d encouraged the homeowners to start in March. She’d been fighting through red tape with the county, fighting a lawsuit with her uncle, working with engineers, and waiting for the building process to start for over a year and a half. Maybe she’d been a bit too ambitious, but she felt if these homes got built, the excitement of this beautiful location and her homeowners would be infectious and she’d be able to sell additional lots, pay off her loans, and finally be in the black. If she could sell the remaining fifteen lots, she could turn her future around.

“You, on the other hand,” he continued, “need to get some local asphalt companies in your corner as well as charm the hard-headed folks at the county office to get the power strung up here, or you’re going to have a riot on your hands.”

Sloan knew that. Nothing was going right on this project. He could get caught up, but her chances of getting the road paved and the power lines installed anytime soon was not looking good. They were miles from the closest power lines and plans called for buried power lines, making it even more of a mess right now.

The smell of moist earth, pine, rotting leaves, and rain reminded her of the nasty weather.

She was hitting brick walls everywhere she petitioned. That was why she’d been excited to finally be here in person. But if she was going to fall in the muck and stick out like a sore thumb with the business apparel that she always wore on commercial sites, maybe coming in person wouldn’t help the issues.

So they’d started too early in the year. So she hadn’t researched Montana winters and made friends with the county. What did she know about residential construction and massive mansions set above a river in the breathtaking mountains? She loved this beauty and wanted to stay immersed in it. Rhett Coleville was more beautiful than the thick greenery, soaring mountains, and rushing river.

No. Sloan couldn’t be drawn to this cowboy. She had to find a way to work with the contractors, the county, the asphalt company, and get everything back on schedule or she wouldn’t be able to pay her loans. Not to mention dealing with very unhappy homeowners. Not to mention if she didn’t sell more lots, she’d lose everything and never get a chance to spread her wings and succeed. She longed to live in this beautiful, quiet, verdant spot instead of dry, too-loud, too-busy Vegas. Then, with any luck, she’d never see her dad again.

With her master’s degree from Arizona State in construction management and technology, she’d felt confident and determined to strike out on her own, refusing to work for her father as he’d always planned. She’d been hired by a commercial contractor in Vegas based on her university performance and her family name. She’d done extremely well, getting raises, bonuses, and praise from the boss.

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