Page 19 of Tough Nut to Crack

Zac releases the insulation, the stuff falling forward and hitting him in the face as he tries to lift his mask as if he hadn't forgotten in the first place.

"See Ethan for today's pay," I repeat. "Then get off my jobsite."

The young man glares at me, but he doesn't say a word before turning to his friend. "You coming?"

"I'm wearing my mask, idiot. I got shit to pay for. See ya later," Colin says before refocusing back on the task at hand.

I stand, waiting for Zac to follow my instructions and not willing to walk away if there's going to be a problem. All guys who work on my crew are required to follow safety standards, and wearing a mask and helmet at all times on all jobs isn't something I'm going to look past.

My phone rings as Zac stomps past me, mumbling profanities under his breath. If I hadn't warned him so many times today, the kid might still have a job.

I grin down at my phone when I see Riley's name on the screen. I need a favor, but there's also a hint of ulterior motive with why I called her earlier this morning. She’s dynamite in bed, and I'm thinking we could both blow off a little more steam.

I clear my throat before answering.

"What do you want?" she growls after I say hello.

"I can see why you might be upset," I say, knowing exactly where her attitude is coming from. "I was rude. I apologize."

What I won't say is that I blurted out about asking her if she wanted to walk or wanted to call a cab because my first instinct was to pull her to my chest and stroke her silky blonde hair until we both fell asleep. The impoliteness stems from needing to put some distance between the two of us, both physically and metaphorically.

Lying in bed and being an asshole, and then not saying a word the entire rest of the night when I dropped her off at her vehicle was all part of that. I never imagined that I'd open my contacts with the intention of calling her again.

But here we are.

"Mac," she hisses. "What the fuck do you want?"

To fill that filthy mouth with my cock.

"I need a favor."

"You've got a lot of nerve, buddy."

Ignoring her anger, I continue, "I'd like for you to cook for me."

"Did someone drop a hammer on your head?"

"The McGees need to be wooed, and I don't think a grilled cheese sandwich and canned tomato soup is going to entice them to give me the bid on their downtown remodel."

"Sounds like a you problem," she says, but her tone is different.

I know she needs work as much as I want to win that bid against whatever company the McGees may be considering bringing in from the city.

"I'd pay you, of course."

"I have an amazing Gruyere and cranberry panini that pairs well with my gazpacho recipe," she says, a hint of professionalism in her voice.

"I don't know what that is," I mutter, feeling more than a little out of my element.

"The sandwich would have dried cranberries and a hint of..."

My mind wanders, my thoughts going back to that night a week ago. I can't stop thinking about the noises she made, her whimpers right in my ear when I covered her with my body. I ache to taste her again, to fill her up until she asks me to wait and let her body adjust to my cock. I want her short nails digging into my back, her thighs squeezing me at my sides.

"Is that something you'd be interested in?"

"What?"

Her growl affects my body the same way it would if she had been right in front of me, letting that fiery attitude of hers take control.

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