Page 1 of Roads Behind Us
Prologue
Sweetie
Two Years Ago
As the only woman on a thirty-man construction crew, I pulled my misogyny repellent around me like a superhero’s cape. I needed a thick skin and a foul mouth to fit in with the guys at my new job with Lee Construction.
Sure, the company employed other women, but they worked in the office. I was the only female with blisters on her hands and a hammer engraved with her name, a gift from my daddy from the day after I graduated high school and he offered me my first real job on his crew.
But that was seventeen years and one failed marriage ago. Taking a last, deep breath, I wrapped strength around me like a second skin before I knocked on my new boss’s front door, opened it, and strode in like I owned the place, ready to beat some men’s asses in a game of Texas Hold ’Em.
“You made it,” Brand Lee said with a kind smile. The man who’d hired me on the spot three weeks ago, nodded and addressed the four other men in his modern, well-lit kitchen. “This is the new hire I was tellin’ you about. Y’all haven’t been formally introduced, so Sweetie, meet the guys.”
“Hey,” was all I said, but steel pulsed through my posture. I stood straighter and reached forward to shake their hands.
“Sweetie, these are my three project leads. Meet Milo Chalk, Tam Corbin, and Tweety.”
Three of the men I’d seen Brand working with over the last few weeks shook the hand I offered. Two of them looked to be in their late thirties or early forties, and both said, “Nice to meet you.” They said it, but I saw the looks, the sweeping gazes of my short stature and long hair. They were thinking, “What’s this little woman doing in our world? What’s wrong with the boss? Why’d he invite her?”
The third man, Tweety, was a heavy-set guy with a scraggly beard that looked like he’d dipped it orange Kool-Aid. He’d made the choice when he got dressed this morning to wear a Hooters T-shirt. I hoped it was a decision made out of irony, but I had my doubts. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. He said, “What’s up.”
But all of my senses had focused on the fourth man, an extremely handsome guy I’d never seen before wearing a straw cowboy hat down low over his sky-blue eyes. From the kitchen chair he seemed to have poured himself into, he flashed me a smile, and I swore I felt my knickers literally twist. His jeans fit him like they’d been made to hang from his clutchable hips in just the right way. Every woman in a five-mile radius was no doubt hyperventilating, and I hadn’t even seen his backside. I had a feeling his Wranglers did a fine job of wrangling everything he had to offer.
Don’t be daft, Bea. This dude’s trouble on a sexy stick. You can see it in his eyes, just like every other guy you’ve ever known.
With his arm slung over the back of his chair and a short tumbler of clear liquor sloshing around in his hand, he was the picture of a bad boy, and somehow, I knew he could bring me to my knees with just one soft whisper in my ear.
He said, “Sweetie? My brother call you that ’cause you got a sweet little ass?”
My coworkers all groaned or winced, and my boss laughed under his breath as I took three steps closer to his brother. He’d only known me a few weeks, but Brand could probably guess that my bitch mode had just been activated. I wasn’t worried about offending my boss by addressing his brother, and honestly, brother or not, if he didn’t have my back in this kind of situation, I would be moving on.
I planted my hands on my hips and bent at the waist, surprising the cowboy with my sudden closeness. He was already one sheet to the wind and well on his way to two or three, but I noticed the symmetrical features of his face and the sharp cut of his jaw, which had only been enhanced by the soft cerulean blue of his irises and the fine laugh lines at the edges of his eyes.
Letting my approval and attraction show on my face, I hinted at what he already seemed sure of—if he wanted me, he could have me. I rolled my lips together, then pinched the bottom one between my teeth.
I smiled, but with my thumb and middle finger, I flicked the hat up an inch. “My name is Bea,” I said, and I nodded over my shoulder, “but my ass is pretty sweet, ain’t it?”
Mutely, he stared into my eyes and nodded.
“Wanna see what happens to your face if you put your hands on it?” I lifted a brow and waited for his answer.
When none came, I straightened, and my boss introduced us. “Sweetie, this is my big brother, Bax. He came up to visit from Wisper, our hometown down south of Yellowstone.” Annoyance rang loud and clear in Brand’s voice. Good. “Please excuse his idiocy. He’s drunk.”
“No worries,” I said. “If he makes a habit out of belittlin’ me, I’ll deliver his balls to the pearly gates of Heaven myself and take all his money tonight.”
Pain flashed across Bax’s face, and Brand pulled at my elbow. When I tore my sharp gaze away from his brother’s and looked back at him, Brand shook his head discreetly, his eyebrows dipping, and said, “Don’t,” under his breath.
Shit. It was then I remembered Brand mentioning that his sister-in-law had passed away the year before and his brother hadn’t been handling it very well.
My daddy’s face flashed in my head. Looking down at the broken man in front of me now, I had a hard time not seeing my dad breaking down at my mama’s funeral and sobbing over her open casket.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t make a habit out of apologizing to rude men often. Not anymore, but God. There was so much sorrow in Bax’s eyes.
Although, he hadn’t apologized to me for his sexist and extremely inappropriate comment about my ass.
“Fuck your sorry,” he said, his voice low, thick like molasses, and slightly slurred. He stood, and I rose slowly, noticing his tall height as he straightened. He towered over me, but not in a menacing way. It was a challenge, and then he tossed back the drink still in his hand and handed me an unopened box of playing cards from his back pocket. “Deal me in.”
So, no apology then? Okay. I see how this is gonna go.
