Page 35 of She Was Made for Me

Once I’m high enough, I grab a handful of the weeds and yank. They tear away from the brick with a satisfying snapping sound, and I toss them to the ground below, grabbing more. It feels good to work with my hands. I spend so much time sitting at my laptop inside that I sometimes forget how much better I feel for moving my body in the fresh air. The sun hits the yard at this time of the morning, the warmth soaking into the exposed skin on my arms and legs.

“What are you doing?”

I sigh when I hear the gruff voice of our foreman down below.

Here we go.

“I’m getting started on this yard,” I say, without glancing back. “Felt like working outside today.”

There’s silence for a beat, and I think he’s gone back inside, but then he says, “Don’t talk to me like that in front of the crew again.”

I stop what I’m doing and turn to glance back at him. “Excuse me?”

“Earlier. Don’t talk to me like that in front of the crew.”

I give a huff of annoyance. “Are you serious?”

“I mean it, Violet.”

“I said you looked pretty.” I snicker, and his brows slash together.

“I’m the foreman. You can’t talk to me like that.”

Anger ignites hot in my belly. “But it’s okay for you to be a dick to me whenever you feel like it?”

That makes him pause. I give him a look that saysexactly, and turn back to tear another weed from the wall, yanking harder than necessary and almost losing my balance.

“Be careful.” His voice moves closer. “You should be wearing gloves.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I retort, pulling out another weed and dropping it on my pile below. I’m so annoyed that he’d dare to complain about my joke when he’s been an ass for weeks, that it’s easy to forget how hot he looked coming down the stairs this morning. How my body responded to that look in his eye.

This is better, though. If I’m angry with him, I can’t be attracted to him. I can focus on work.

“Seriously, Violet, be careful—”

I grab another weed and wrench on it with two hands, taking my anger out on the unsuspecting plant. Something slices into my palm, and I jerk back in surprise, losing my balance. My arms windmill at my side, the ladder falling out from beneath me, and I watch in what feels like slow motion as I tilt away from the brick wall.

“Shit!” Kyle’s voice is a distant echo as I brace myself to hit the ground, knowing this is going to hurt.

But I don’t hit the ground. Instead, I’m stopped midway through the air by Kyle’s arms swooping underneath me. My head hits his chest and he stumbles back a step, but he’s got me.

I clutch at his shirt, my heart thundering, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Tears press unexpectedly at my eyes, and I bury my face in his shoulder, steadying myself. His arms tighten around me, and for a brief moment I hope he never lets go.

When I finally glance up, Kyle’s eyes are wide, his chest heaving underneath me. “Are you okay?”

I give a quick nod, my heart still racing. “Yes,” I manage. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” His concern is quickly replaced with a frown as he sets me down on wobbly legs. “I told you to be careful. You need three points of contact on the ladder at all times. You could have broken your neck.”

Despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I grit my teeth. “I would have been fine if you hadn’t come out here to yell at me.”

“I didn’t yell.” Infuriatingly, he keeps his voice even. “I simply asked—”

“More like demanded,” I snap, cutting him off. I tear my gaze from his stony face to examine the stinging on my hand. There’s blood trailing across my palm and I close my hand, grimacing, hoping Kyle hasn’t noticed.

But he has.

“Hey.” His voice softens, all traces of irritation gone from his face as he reaches for my hand. “You’ve cut yourself.”

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