Page 11 of Sweet Southern Heat

Landon

Got a quick weekend gig for you if you’re interested.

The text came through justas I was clocking in at the garage. My heart rate spiked at the prospect. Weekend jobs were always lucrative since Dean paid us at a higher rate. I picked up as many as I could and rarely turned him down. For that reason, I was usually the first person he offered it to.

I kept my reply short and sweet.

Me: I’m interested.

That was all I had to say. Dean would offer the details, and I’d accept. My phone buzzed a few minutes later.Jackpot.

A few deck boards and a couple of steps that needed to be replaced. It would be a fairly quick and easy job that would probably only take me a day to complete. The only problem was he needed methisweekend. Talk about short notice. I let out a low whistle when I saw what the job was paying. It was more than enough to cover dad’s meds and electric bill with a nicechunk left over to pad my savings. At that rate, I could easily overlook the last-minute nature and move my schedule around.

Me: I’ll take it.

I replied without a second thought. It didn’t matter where it was or who the job was for; I needed it. I’d even venture outside of Magnolia Grove for this kind of money. Three little dots appeared and a moment later, Dean’s reply came through with the location and time I needed to be there. Something about the address niggled at the back of my mind. It was familiar, but I couldn’t recall why. Perhaps I’d worked on the property before. I tapped out a response confirming I’d be there and shoved my phone into my pocket.

The next morning, I double checked the address Dean had sent me and contemplated punching it into my phone’s GPS, but I’d lived in Magnolia Grove my whole life. It wouldn’t be too hard to find. I crossed the bridge and turned down the tree lined street, scanning mailboxes for the right house number, slowing as I drew near. Finally, I stopped in front of a sprawling Victorian home and let out a low curse. There in the driveway sat a cherry apple red convertible.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I gritted out, pulling in next to the offending vehicle. Throwing my truck into park, I grabbed my tool bag and made my way to the front door. I rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. And waited. I tried knocking. Nothing. I dropped my head back between my shoulders and pinched my eyes closed to ward off the mounting irritation. What the fuck? Was this some kind of a joke? Had Olivia Duprey asked Dean to send me out here knowing she wouldn’t be home? I couldn’t just walk around back and start working on a client’s property without their knowledge.

Or could I?

Curiosity got the better of me, so I skirted around the side of the house to the back yard. Little Miss silver-spoon-in-her-mouth was apparently opening her pool this weekend and recently discovered some rotten planks on her deck. That much, Dean had relayed when he asked me to do this job. What he failed to mention—again—was that it was for Olivia. In my rush to accept a well-paying job, I forgot to ask. He and I would have words the next time I saw him.

The sound of music filled my ears as I approached the back yard. When I rounded the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. Olivia wore a floral bikini that hugged her curves in all the right places. Tiny strings rested low on the soft flare of her hips revealing the smooth tan skin of her stomach. Her full breasts pushed together as she worked the long metal handle of the pool skimmer, collecting debris from the surface of the water. She leaned forward, and for a moment, I thought she might spill out of her top. I swallowed hard at the sight, trying to control my body’s natural reaction. That was all it was. It wasn’t like Iwantedher. She was a reasonably attractive, nearly naked woman, and men were visual creatures. It was just biology.

At least that was what I told myself as I reached forward and adjusted the bulge behind my zipper. I approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her, and cleared my throat. I frowned when she didn’t look up. The music was low enough I didn’t need to shout, but I had to raise my voice to get her attention.

“Olivia,” I said, and her head snapped up, her gaze instantly finding mine. Her mouth formed a little “O,” and I briefly imagined doing sinful things to that little circle. I quickly shook those thoughts away. I couldn’t think of Olivia Duprey like that. Iwouldn’t.

“L-Landon,” she practically gasped. “What are you doing here?” I frowned, my brows knitting together. Clearly, I wasn’tthe only one Dean hadn’t been completely transparent with. She looked as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

I gritted my teeth and straightened my shoulders. I would be professional and proficient. I’d work tirelessly until the job was completed, then I would go home and wait for the payment from Dean to hit my bank account. Then I would demand he never send me to do another job for Olivia again.

“I’m here to fix the deck,” I replied evenly, and she blinked at me like I was speaking another language. Finally, she seemed to shake out of her stupor and set down the skimmer.

“Right. I, uh, didn’t realize Dean was sending you.” Who else did she expect exactly, dressed in her tiny bikini? With a view like that, any of Dean’s men would feel like they’d won the lottery. Except for me. I wanted nothing to do with the little vixen. There was a heart of ice buried beneath that scorching hot exterior.

Fuck, I couldn’t think of her that way. She was the enemy, someone who had destroyed my family without remorse. I wouldn’t get sucked in by her pretty face and tempting body. No, I was rock solid in my resolve. This was strictly business. We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything.

An odd sensation settled in my chest, and I rubbed at my sternum. There was a time when I thought she would become family. Lyle was head over heels for her. He talked about their future all the time. Every time I called home, he talked about how she would follow him wherever he got a football scholarship, so they could be together in college. He had every intention of marrying her one day and believed she felt the same. Now that I’d seen her true colors, I wondered if she ever intended to go through with those plans. She only seemed to care about her own future and not the fact she had robbed Lyle of his.

My jaw was clenched so tight it throbbed. Thoughts of what Olivia did to my brother always crept in and caused anger to rise in my chest like a flame doused in gasoline. I drew in a deep breath through my nose and unclenched my teeth.

“If you’d prefer someone else, I can leave, and you and Dean can work it out.” I was already turning to go when she stopped me.

“Wait,” she shouted, and I paused, letting my eyes skirt back to her. Big mistake. She strode toward me, her bare feet gliding over the freshly manicured lawn with lithe grace. She walked purposefully, but with the poise taught only to Southern debutantes in finishing school. Despite the smoothness of her gait, there was no way to avoid the bounce of her breasts. They sat high on her chest, nothing more than a handful, but still mesmerizing. I quickly tore my gaze away and concentrated on her face.

“Please don’t go,” she said, reaching for my arm, but pulling back before she made contact. She clasped her hands together and stared into my eyes. Her eyes filled with concern and regret. “I-I’m just surprised, is all. I didn’t think you would take on another project for me.” She winced and glanced away. My fingers itched to reach out and grip her chin to force her to look at me. I didn’t know where the urge to touch her came from, but I buried it down deep.

“Well, Dean didn’t exactly tell me who it was for, so I’m just as shocked as you.” Her perfectly shaped brows drew together as her eyes lit with intrigue. I continued before I could read too much into her expression. “A job is a job, but if you don’t want me here, I’ll go.”

“No,” she chirped, panic rising in her voice. This time, when she reached for me, she made contact. Her small hand curled around my forearm, and I sucked in a sharp breath as a zing of electricity licked up my arm. This was the first time she’dtouched me since that day in the grocery store years ago, and I didn’t like how my body reacted to it. I wanted to rip my arm out of her grasp, but then she would know just how her touch affected me.

It had been different that first morning in the bakery whenIgrabbedherto keep her from bludgeoning me with a rolling pin. Now it was her soft hand on my body. Every millimeter of my skin that she contacted burned with something I wasn’t willing to acknowledge. Finally, noticing what she’d done, she released me and took a step back. A flush crept over her cheeks, and she averted her gaze.

“Sorry,” she began, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to leave. You do great work,” she placated, her voice trembling with nerves, “and I need this done right away.”

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