Page 5 of Savage

“I need the cabins built sooner rather than later. If money motivates them to work faster, it’s good for everyone, right?” Her tone is flat as she turns back toward the lodge.

I glance toward the guys who are all unpacking and going back to work. I don’t blame them for taking the deal, but it’s impossible.

“You know my guys can’t work around the clock, right? It’s a safety hazard. The state will have something to say about it.”

“The state isn’t here. I am, and I need those cabins built now. So… your guys can do it, or I’ll call in another team. Your choice.”

“You’re acting like a lunatic. I’m telling you, it can’t be done.”

She stops in her tracks and turns toward me. “I’m doing my job, Clyde. I suggest you do yours… minus any more guns.” With that, she stomps toward the lodge, taking that big, round ass with her.

Chapter Three

Scarlett

It’s five o’clock and I should be heading home for the day, but life has changed dramatically in the last few hours.

“Knock, knock.” It’s Opal with a plate of food that smells like heaven. I don’t think I’ve eaten at all today, though I did have more than a few cups of coffee. “I brought spaghetti and meatballs with in-house garlic bread, and a slice of peach cobbler.”

My mouth salivates just thinking about the food. “You’re a godsend. Have I told you that lately?”

She sets the plate down on my desk and grabs a bottle of water for me from the fridge in the corner. “You should really go home. Why are you still working?”

I pull the lid off the pasta and dig my fork into the plate, excited for a bite. “Life is going to hell, so I’m losing it a little.” I usually don’t speak this candidly with employees, but Opal and I have a different relationship. Somewhere along the line, we became friends.

“How’s it going to hell?” She grabs a piece of garlic bread from the tray and sits in her usual spot. “I need details.”

“I got a surprise call from my father this morning. He’s coming out at the end of the week to look over everything because, apparently, he has another investor lined up.” I shake my head and take another bite, saying with a full mouth, “Ididn’t know what to say, so I told him I’d finished the expansion already.”

“What? Why did you do that? Clyde’s got like… a month or two left, right?”

I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I continue to stuff bread and pasta into my mouth. “Yes. I just talked to the guys and offered them a raise to finish early. I don’t know, I think it might be too much, but who does my father think he is, bringing in another investor?”

Opal shakes her head and pulls her long hair down out of the tight bun she’d made earlier this morning. “Does this mean the end of the Mail Order thing? People around here love the concept. I mean, you got the attention of Buck Dalton. He’s like the biggest country star in the world right now, and he’s here… in Rugged Mountain. Someone said he was at Rugged Mountain Ink last night getting a new tattoo. That’s huge for this town.”

“Well, my father only cares about money, and this investor is offering him triple what we paid for the place. Apparently, he wants to turn it into a full-on dude ranch. So, I’m gonna spend the week working overtime, finishing everything I haven’t finished.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “If I’m being really honest, what I really need is a fake fiancé. If I show up with a big, burly man, my father will leave this whole thing alone.”

Her brows narrow. “What makes you think that?”

“Are you kidding? My father respects men above all else. You could stand me next to a brain-dead zombie, but if he has a dick, my father will trust his grunting over my educated opinion. It’s just the way he is.”

“I can go to the meeting with you. We can convince your dad together that this place is doing well. I mean, the numbers don’t lie. You like doubled your profit in the last six months, right?”

I tilt my head to the side and smile as sweetly as I can manage. “Yeah, two women talking would be worse than one. Besides, the numbers aren’t big enough. He’s convinced this investor is going to give him more than I could ever make.”

“And you think a fake fiancé will convince him?”

“I thinkIhave no shot in hell at convincing him of anything. I’m just talking out my ass.” I twist my fork into the pasta and slide another garlic loaded bite in. “How was your day?”

“Good.” She nods empathetically, and I fear we aren’t actually finished talking about my problems. “So, this is gonna sound crazy, but what if you asked Clyde? He’s big, brooding, overconfident… he fits the bill.”

I laugh to myself at the thought of playing fake fiancé with a man I told off at least three times today. “I doubt he’d go along with me. We kind of went at it today. Besides, my dad would never believe I was into a guy like Clyde.”

“The age thing?”

“Well, Clyde is nearly my father’s age, so there’s that, but also the whole flannel, gun toting, redneck thing. I usually date guys in suits with laptops and sports cars. Not pickup trucks and shotguns, ya know?”

“Right, but you’re not in the city anymore. You’re out here in the woods. And up here, men dress and act like Clyde. Besides, you said the man just had to have a dick. Clyde most certainly has a dick. I think everyone knows that.” She giggles and glances away. “You can’t miss it. The man’s jeans are really tight.”

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