Page 6 of Blue Collar Hotties

“Once everything is fixed… I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re safe and secure. And I know Luis would like that too.”

My brother’s name brings a pang to my chest, and a change comes over Cade as well. Something shutters behind his eyes, and he steps away from me. Breaks the tension simmering between us.

“I’ll get started in a few minutes,” he says, threading the dish towel through the drawer handle, then he strides away, leaving me alone.

“No rush,” I mumble, though he’s well out of earshot, the wooden boards of the deck outside creaking under his weight.

Believe me.

No rush at all.

Cade

Three weeks later

“Pass me that saw.”

The world’s chattiest assistant strolls across the deck, plucking up my hack saw from where I left it on a stool, and carries it back over held out on her palms like an offering for the gods. Riley’s dressed in a green cotton halter dress today, her feet bare and her toenails painted white, and as the wind blows, it plasters her dress against her thighs.

The makeshift workbench I set up out here is wobbly against the uneven boards, but I steady it with one hand, taking the saw from her with the other.

I don’t linger on those tanned legs for too long.

No, Luis wouldn’t like that at all.

Now I’m no great carpenter, but I’m good enough in a pinch. Good enough to fix this rotten deck, anyway, just like Riley isn’t the most knowledgeable assistant, but I wouldn’t swap her out for anything in the world. Because those storm clouds that have crowded my thoughts since Luis died? They ease off when she’s around. I’m not magically better, but I’m soothed.

And maybe it’s wishful thinking, but it seems the same for Riley, too. She’s bloomed over the last three weeks; gone from exhausted and shy, barely talking at all, to chatting my ear off the second she bounds out of the lakehouse each morning.

I don’t mind, even when I’ve barely slept and she wakes me up. Riley’s better than any dream I might’ve been having.

“This is a nice touch.” My best friend’s little sister flicks the pencil I’ve got tucked behind one ear. “Very authentic.”

Fuck.I love when she teases me like this, a wicked smile playing around her mouth. I feel less like some scarred, broody bigfoot and more like the man I was before. She’s only got one braid today, her hair scraped back down the middle, and escaped tendrils of dark hair dance around her cheeks.

“Step back.” My gruff tone doesn’t fool her at all—Riley grins wider, and she tugs at my earlobe before backing away. “Genius at work.”

Her snort is the sweetest sound I ever heard. When she’s not around, I play it on a loop in my brain.

It takes a second for me to find the right rhythm, for the saw to bite into the wood in a way that feels good, then I’m off, sawing steadily, muscles burning and and a bead of sweat trickling down my back. My hair’s tied back in a knot, tickling at the nape of my neck.

We’ve been at this for hours already today. And not just today—ever since Riley and I made our deal, we’ve worked on the cabin flat out. We’ve fixed her hot water and leaking faucets; put in new window panes and changed the lock on the door and done a dozen other things besides.

Truth be told, we’re rattling through the list of projects too fast, because once we’re finished… well. I’ll need to move on.

My gut cramps at the thought, and my arm slows.

“Getting tired?” Riley reaches up, tugging her halterneck undone. Oh, hell. The front of her dress peels down, revealing two pert tits in that yellow string bikini, and below, her tanned, smooth stomach. “We should take a break. Come for a swim.”

This is an offer I hear every day now, and every day, it wrecks me all over again.

Swim with her? Get in that fresh, freezing water with Riley; get close to her wet skin, her hard nipples, her chattering teeth? Without touching her? Without crossing a dozen lines?

“Better not.”

Riley huffs, her smile falling away. “You always say that.”

I shrug, sawing faster again. What else is there to say?

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