Page 2 of Dirty Deeds

I blow the loose strands of hair away from my face and give him an exasperated look.

“You’re missing the point.”

His gaze lowers once again and he laughs—the hot, intrusive gawker actually laughs in my face. I drop the lamp and cross my arms against my chest, a feeble attempt to cover my hard nipples. Seconds tick by before he finally tears his eyes away from my chest. His sly grin grows wider, revealing his perfectly white, straight teeth. Another complement to his olive complexion.

“The name is Enzo Scotto.” He pauses, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes a step closer to me and offers me his hand. “Brent Matthews hired me to replace the floorboards on the top deck. He failed to mention I’d be greeted by such a gorgeous view, though. A shame too because I would’ve knocked a couple of hundred off the bill.”

I squint, peering at the only window in the cabin. The marina is small, and the warped wood of the dock is nothing spectacular. The view is hardly anything to brag about.

“It’s an old marina,” I say, bringing my gaze back to him.

“I’m not talking about the marina,” he says, his dark brown eyes flashing with mischief and a hint of something I can’t quite place. My breath hitches slightly. I may be out of practice and deep-throating bananas, but I know when a man is flirting with me.

Nervously, I divert my attention to the hand he keeps extended. Large, tan, and waiting for my touch.

I hesitantly slide my hand into his, biting my lip to keep me from saying anything. I don’t trust my voice. I’m too focused on the way his hand engulfs mine. His fingers tighten and his palm flattens against mine. It’s a working man’s hand. Strong, and calloused.

Releasing my lip, I meet his gaze.

“Danica.”

His thumb circles my palm as he stares at me quietly. Feeling the heavy weight of his gaze as it penetrates me, I shift from one foot to the other and awkwardly lift my free hand to smooth my hair behind my ear. His eyes shift, taking in the rings on my left hand and the smirk falls from his lips.

“Let me guess…Brent Matthews is your husband.”

For six years it was a title I wore proudly. Now it feels like a dirty stain.

CHAPTERONE

ENZO SCOTTO

One Year Later

“What the fuck is this?”I ask jutting my chin to the box my stepbrother-in-law Riggs just dumped on top of the kitchen table. If it weren’t for my super quick reflexes, he would’ve knocked my sausage and pepper hero onto the floor and that my friend would’ve been a tragedy.

He taps his knuckles against the side of the box.

“This, right here, is gold.”

I roll my eyes. Riggs tends to exaggerate things and gold to him is a ceramic kitten. He started collecting them a while back and honestly, he’s become obsessed. I don’t know how my stepsister, Lauren, deals with him.

“Keep rolling your eyes, man, but this shit is going to put Scotto Construction on the map.”

Interest piqued, I raise an eyebrow and safely slide the paper plate housing my hero to the side.

A little over a year ago, after taking on a ton of side jobs, I decided to open my own business—a construction company cleverly titled Scotto Construction. I foolishly thought working for myself would be an ideal situation, but owning your own business is fucking exhausting. There are never enough hours in the day. Even when I’m not physically on a job, I’m working—scouting materials, giving estimates, drawing up contracts, and billing customers. It never ends.

So when Riggs offered me a hand I took it. I wasn’t good at marketing, something I realized when I tried to put an ad in the local newspaper. Apparently, newspapers are obsolete these days. People no longer hit the classifieds when they’re looking to hire a contractor. Facebook groups, digital ads, and word of mouth is where it’s at and if I wanted Scotto Construction to stay afloat, I needed to adapt to the digital times.

That’s where Riggs came in. He may be an enforcer for my dad’s motorcycle club, but underneath all that leather and mayhem there is a computer geek. Within a week of giving him the green light he designed a website for me, made me a Facebook page, and set me up with a couple of ads.

It’s been a month and my phone hasn’t stopped ringing.

Rising to my feet, I open the box, peel back the bubble wrap and narrow my eyes. Last week he told me I needed business cards, t-shirts, and some sort of marketing gimmick I could give to potential customers when they called for an estimate. Something that showed my appreciation and left an impression.

We settled on magnets.

People still use them and anytime they go to grab something from the fridge, they’ll see the Scotto Construction logo and with any luck, after opening that fridge and seeing that magnet a couple of times, they’ll call for the kitchen remodel they’ve been contemplating.

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