Page 55 of The Fixer

“When will that be?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Makes it a little tough to plan.” He gathered up the paperwork and tucked it back into its folders. “These are yours. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh, all right,” she grumped.

“I’ll bring the coffee.” He flashed her that roguish smile again, only maybe that was hisrealsmile, and it had a wicked component to it that was natural rather than intentional.

This was one of the many fascinating facets to Charlie Hunnicutt that she considered after he left. Chin cupped in her hand, she stared out the kitchen window and pictured it bigger and modern in her mind’s eye, the way Charlie had helped her envision it. Below it would be a farmhouse sink, gray cabinets, and a stone countertop. Beautiful. The man certainly had a talent to impart his visions and help her see past the sagging wallpaper and peeling paint.

It occurred to her he wasn’t only a contractor. He was a crafter, a creative, like her. The more she learned about him, the more his appeal grew—and that was spilling over into the personal category too, which was dangerous. No way could she let herself fall for that devilish smile and the gleaming green eyes that went with it. She had to keep him in the contractor zone. Fortunately, she wasn’t interested in him in any way other than as a builder, and he obviously had no interest in her.

Her thoughts turned to his rings. More than mere adornments for vanity’s sake, they held history and the memories of generations past. In his own way, Charlie Hunnicutt was a blue blood—a Fall River blue blood. Though they were from vastly dissimilar universes, a parallel existed between the Hunnicutts and Sterling’s family.

She was right smack between them, partners with two very different men.

And she could not allow herself romantic entanglements with either of them.

Chapter 15

Over-Joyed

As Charlie drove backto the building department, he turned over the enigma that was Joy Holiday. When he’d first met her, she’d come off as self-centered, as someone who thought the world should revolve aroundher. But since then, he’d caught a glimpse of warmth she liked to keep tucked away. Hell, she’d passed the Luna-and-Sunny test with flying colors—and that carried its own weight. It was onlyhimshe didn’t like, although she’d sought him out to warn him about Carl Weatherly, and she’d sided with him, which he hadn’t expected of her. She might be as prickly as a barrel cactus, but she believed in justice for him, so there was that.

Another intriguing truth was that a fragility simmered beneath her shiny veneer, and that veneer looked a little thin and brittle in places.

Her nimble mind was finely honed, and she seemed to thrive on challenge. If one wasn’t there, she invented it. She was also full of contradictions. Like what had the business with the romance book been about? She’d obviously been embarrassed at being caught, but she’d danced around like her toes were on fire instead of simply owning it anddaring him to push it further—not the sort of reaction he would have expected of a confident woman like her. The fact that she read smut in the first place was another surprise that was at odds with her personality. Surrounded by theWall Street Journal, the last six issues ofForbes, and a book or two about the art of war in business?Thatwould have fit. Then again, what the hell did he really know about her?

Joy Holiday was a thought-provoking paradox that drove him insane—not in a good way—yet sparked something uncomfortable and raw inside of him. While he didn’t understand his reaction, he knew he didn’t like it.

He loved a smart woman, and the way Joy’s brain worked was puzzling and provocative. It always seemed to be moving, processing, calculating. God, to spend a moment in her skin and get a glimpse at her inner wiring! He’d never known a woman like her … nor had he ever seen such warm sherry-colored eyes. Eyes that went wild with excitement when an idea struck. They lit from inside, like a candle flame being ignited.

His victory—and it had beena victory getting her to see the building’s potential—had been hard-fought and sweet as hell to earn, but it left him wrung out, which probably explained his mind’s current inappropriate meanderings.

A family of four, all holding hands, paused on the curb, and he came to a stop and waved them across. At least Joy hadn’t taken possession ofallhis senses.

He parked in front of the town hall and sat for a moment, his arm draped over the steering wheel, while his thoughts returned to his new partner. They’d only known each other a few days, but their encounters had been intense and rousing. If he was brutally honest, he enjoyed sparring with her, and he was drawn to solve the mystery she was. She was made of steel but also one beguiling layer atop another, like yards of lace begging to be removed to bare the woman underneath.

What made her tick? What got her motor running, besides arguing and … motors? What did she like in bed? What didn’t she like? What did shesoundlike? Taste like? Could he blow her busy mind and make it blank out for a minute? Two? Thirty?

He sat back as though he’d been slapped. How the fuck had he gone from trying to figure her out to picturing her in bed? And so seamlessly too.

“Knock it off, you perv,” he berated himself. “She’s not for you.” For so many reasons. They had nothing in common, for one. For two, they didn’t get along. When he turned right, she went left. If he pointed up, she looked down. His black was her white. And thirdly, she was his client, which put her so far off-limits she might has well have been back in Chicago.

As he climbed out of his truck, he reminded himself she was an obstinate control freak, and he wasn’t interested in being under anyone’s thumb, in business or in love.

Up on the second floor, he greeted Bea. “Thought I’d stop by and check on that demo permit. Oh, and I brought you these.” He pushed a twine-bound pair of handmade soaps at her. They came from the local soap shop, and he reckoned he was supporting at least two Fall River causes at the same time.

She batted her eyes at him.Thank fuck. “Charlie Hunnicutt, are you trying to bribe me?”

“No, ma’am. I just thought of you while I was in there getting stuff for my mom. If you don’t like them, feel free to give them to your niece. To Becky.” There. Would his attempt at conciliation get him what he needed?

Bea flapped a hand and tittered, “Oh, you!” before deftly stashing them under the counter. “I’ll check on that permit for you.”

Within a minute, she was back. “I have good news. All approved and stamped.” She pushed the paper toward him. The ink on the stamp looked like it was still wet. The soap had worked … which gave him an idea about apeace offering for someone else.

“Much obliged, Bea. Oh, and by the way, I’ve arranged a meeting with the investors at Silver Summit. We’re going to talk about the train project.” It wasn’t a total lie. He’d asked Noah to set it up, and even if Noah hadn’t done shit about it, Charlie had done his part in the arranging.

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