Page 8 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
“Aren’t you? I know you got your contractor’s license a couple of years ago.”
“I’m gonna kill Claire,” her friend muttered.
“Hey, if she can gossip about my news, she can gossip about yours.”
“No one was supposed to know,” Erin said, gaze on the table. “I was just helping her and Maria out.”
“And doing a damn fine job of it. Look at the fantastic job you did coordinating the renovations for the bakery and coffee shop. Not to mention all the jobs through the years where you’ve unofficially filled the GC position while the actual general contractor spent more time with his beer than his crew.”
A hint of red crept up Erin’s neck.
“Hey.”
Erin stubbornly kept her focus on the condensation beneath her margarita glass.
“Erin.” Lily’s tone held a warning. Finally her friend sighed and met her eyes, albeit reluctantly.
“Who does everyone go to when they need help with a build?” Lily asked, already knowing the answer.
Erin’s lips pursed as if she’d refused to answer, then, “Me,” she mumbled.
“Who?” Lily teased.
The corner of Erin’s mouth tilted up—just barely. “Me.”
“You.” Lily emphasized her point with a jab of her steak-filled fork.
When Erin’s mouth opened as if she’d protest, Lily raised her hand. “And save the ‘I am just a handyman’ speech. You’re not just a handywoman. You’re a talented builder with a lot of skill to share—and everyone would be proud to tell JD so, even if you won’t. So…” She gave Erin another teasing grin. “What time are you free tomorrow?”
Overcoming Erin’s reluctance at being in the spotlight wasn’t easy, but when Lily began to describe JD’s project, Erin couldn’t hide a gleam of interest. They decided on a time while finishing up their meals, and Erin snickered when Adrian appeared with the traditional oversize sombrero and a plate of fried ice cream topped with a lit candle.
“Any pictures of this show up on social media and so help me…” Lily muttered under her breath as she plopped the hat onto her head. Erin laughed her way through the waitstaff’s serenade before picking up a spoon and helping Lily dig into the dessert.
“So enough business,” Erin said around a bite of ice cream. “Claire said JD was hot enough to cook eggs on his backside. Any thoughts?”
Lily coughed on her bite of ice cream. “Hot enough for what?”
“You know Claire.” Erin licked her spoon, giggling. “Some of the things she comes up with…” She traded her spoon for her almost empty margarita. “So is he?”
God, he was. Not that she would admit it.
“He was very handsome.”
“‘He was very handsome,’” Erin mocked. “Come on, spill! Did you want to jump him or not?”
Now it was Lily’s turn to blush. “Would it do me any good if I did?”
Erin snorted. “Hey, leave Mason and his juvenile gossip out of this.”
If only she could. Mason had made himself hard to ignore, especially in their small town. The man might not have been the best boyfriend material, but he’d had a knack for ferreting out every one of her insecurities from day one. Since their breakup three years ago, right after her successful mayoral run—hey, it wasn’t her fault the man hated dating women who were more successful than he was—he’d taken to spreading rumors about her supposedly lacking skill in the bedroom. In a town with as few options in the dating pool as Black Wolf’s Bluff, especially in their age bracket, a single rumor could kill any chance of a first date.
And had. For the past three years.
“If it were me,” Erin was saying, “I’d be staking my claim before every unattached woman in the county jumped at the chance to do the same.”
“Not me.” And not Erin either. No matter how much she teased, Erin hadn’t dated since her high school sweetheart and husband of fifteen years, Stephen, died of an out-of-the-blue heart attack ten years ago.
“Come on, Lily. Isn’t it about time to get back on that horse?”
