Page 74 of Hard Hat Hottie

A proud smile crosses my face. “Yeah. I miss them.”

“Well, call them back and tell them to get back down here and help you out. I heard about your momma. You’ve been holding down the fort alone for too long, son. Get your brother to come.”

He’s right. And I know Matt will come when he can. But I hate disrupting their lives any more than I have to.

“You’re right.”

“Tell Jimmy Dean to settle down. I’m sure one of the neighbors can feed him for a few days.”

I snort. “I don’t think that pig misses many meals.” My eyes land on the clock above the counter. “Hell. I’ve gotta go, Jo. I need to stop by the construction site before I head out.”

“It was good to see you, Harry. Give your mother my love,” he adds as he walks me out the door toward my truck. Placing his hands on his hips, he stretches his neck, looking up into the sky. “There’s a storm a coming.”

“What? It’s gorgeous out. There’s not a cloud in the sky.” I’m usually more in tune with the forecast, given I have multipleconstruction crews to manage. But admittedly, with everything going on with Mom, that’s the last thing on my mind.

“Mark my words, boy. There’s a storm coming. And it’s going to be a beaut.”

Harlow

“Hey, girl. Why you so down? We just got here?”

I look up from my seat on the shuttle bus to find Sadie and Shay placing their bags on the seats in front of me. “Impending doom, probably.” The last few shifts have really been tough. Not just the volume while we’ve been short staffed. But the cases. It’s never easy watching people receive a diagnosis that will likely change the rest of their life.

“You back with us in the ER, Shay?”

“You can’t get rid of me.” She laughs. “I doubt I’ll be anywhere else until they can get more nurses on the schedule.

As we make the short trek to the ER, my heart sinks as I see the empty scaffolding platform come into view. It’s just not the same when he’s not here. The bus stops, and we gather our things. Another evening shift calling our names.

Taking the few steps off of the bus, I notice Harry standing under the pop-up shelter talking to a crew member. My heart skips a beat, thinking I might get to begin my shift with another quick peck. I clutch my tote a little tighter and start to turn in his direction when he shifts, his eyes landing on mine.

But there’s no smile. No flirty wink. It’s like I’m invisible. Like he’s looking right through me. He isn’t dressed in his usual work attire. There’s no hard hat in his hand, nor onhis head. Harrison looks down at his watch and continues his conversation with his co-worker.

As if I’m not even here.

Blinking rapidly, I spin on my heel and make my way for the doors. And to think I thought the impending doom was related to my job.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

HARRISON

Pulling into the hangar, I’ve barely got my truck in park before I’m throwing open the door and reaching for my bag. Rushing toward the plane, I slow my steps as I notice Gavin gesturing to slow down with his hands held out as if he was a crossing guard at an elementary school.

“You’re fine. I submitted the flight plan for an hour from now after we flew back last time. I suspected you might have a lot to accomplish before we returned to Miami and wanted to have a buffer.”

Bending over, I place my hands on my knees and take a few steady inhales to catch my breath. “Sorry, man. My orthopedist said he could fit me in before I left. I wasn’t sure I could fit it in, but hell… I was dying to get that cast off.” I still have to wear this Velcro wrist brace for a while, but it’s a far cry from that awful cast.

“Well, that was worth the heart attack you nearly gave yourself trying to get here in time. Go on up and settle in. Catch your breath. I’ve got your bag.” He chuckles.

“Thanks.” I give myself a good stretch before ascending into the plane. I’ve definitely given this little biplane a workout since I started commuting back and forth.

I’d casually said something to Matthew about wishing I could get to and from Miami faster and within twenty-four-hours he had the name of a pilot that was willing to help. Gavin Gold was doing private charters in Sycamore Mountain, but business had been slow enough to consider a short-term relocation. I was grateful he was willing to consider flying me to and from Miami several times a week, even if it required him to relocate his operations to southern Florida temporarily. I sweetened the deal on our contract, but he reassured me that he and his wife, Joey, would love the chance to spend some time in the Keys. She’s apparently a tomboy and enjoys that scene a bit more than Miami. But they are making the most of both locations.

At first, I struggled with spending this kind of money on traveling by private plane. Yet, Hightower Construction is easily bringing in enough income to offset the expense. And it’s much easier for me to rationalize working away from Mom, knowing I can get home on a moment’s notice.

Dropping my pounding head against the headrest once I reach my seat, I take a few cleansing breaths and hope to still the pulse thrumming in my ears. Once my heart rate feels it’s going in the right direction, I bend, grabbing hold of the cooler Gavin keeps stocked for a bottle of water. Glancing inside, I notice the pink lemonade lying on ice.

Real men don’t drink pink lemonade.

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