Page 29 of Hot Rucking Canadian

“Say it. I promise I won’t judge.”

“Yeah…” I drew in a deep breath and let it out. “What I didn’t tell Cassandra is I eventually went back and earned my high school diploma. And I’ve even taken a few construction-management courses.”

“Which would lead to…?” His excited expression couldn’t be overstated.

“Like, I dunno. Maybe a foreman’s job. Or an assistant something. I’m learning how to read plans and shit.”

“That’s…that’s amazing.” His dark-brown eyes softened. “I mean, I care about you anyway, you get that, right?”

I frowned.

“Just…I don’t want you to think that I don’t respect what you do—because I totally respect what you do.”

“Yeah, okay. I get it.” And I did. He would be happier if I wasn’t doing such a dangerous job. “Foreman is a tough job.”

“Then who better to do it? Someone who knows what the men are going through?”

“And women.”

He cocked his head.

“We have a couple of women on the crew. I swear they do ties faster than the rest of us.” I winced. “But they face a lot of shit.”

“Misogyny?”

“Yep. Some of the men I work with are assholes.” I could think of two right off the top of my head. Guys I gave a wide berthto. Guys I wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley at night. They knew I respected the women. I would’ve defended them—if they’d asked. They’d made it clear, though, they were capable of taking care of themselves.

Didn’t mean I didn’t watch out.

Didn’t mean I wouldn’t intervene if necessary.

“As long as you don’t feel that way—”

“I don’t.” I nearly spat out the word.

He appeared completely unperturbed.

I scrunched my nose. “My mom always taught me to respect women. And I listened. Probably helped I wasn’t interested in getting into their pants.” I shrugged. “I mightn’t have been as respectful with guys at first. But that evolved.”

“After your mom died.”

I both hated and loved how he was coming to know me so well. “Yeah.”

“She sounds like a good woman.”

“I didn’t…I wasn’t the man she’d tried to raise me to be.”

“But you are now.” He tapped the end of my nose in a way I found weirdly endearing.

Special.

“Food needs to be reheated. You like tomatoes?”

I nodded.

He clapped his hands. “Great. I made bacon, tomato, and mayo sandwiches. I can add lettuce if you want.”

“Uh, no.” I smiled. “I can’t remember the last time I had a BLT without the L. A long freaking time.”

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