Page 2 of Nailed

At this point in the interview, Hollie Berry removed her microphone. So while we can’t know exactly what she said to Mr. Tucker as a parting shot, the middle finger salute she gave him as she stormed off stage was pretty clear.

CHAPTER1

Jamie

Iwas too old for this shit.

I sat in my warm truck, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. The dash clock said 7:32 a.m.

I had a six-hour drive ahead of me, and I’d planned on leaving at 7:30 sharp. But here I was, sitting with a scowl on my face and a knot in my belly, thinking about a woman.

A gorgeous, brilliant, perfect woman who couldn’t stand me. The one who kept knocking my eyes off the ball. The one too young, too beautiful, and too nice for a grumpy-ass man like me.

Even if it weren’t way too late for me to be thinking about someone that way, it could never be with Sarah Cooper. She’s my employee.

And, at thirty-nine, sixteen years my junior.

It’s two for one spiced apple ciders for the holiday season down at the Blue Line on Ladies’ Night. Every Friday in December! Bring your friends!

Goddammit. I ran a hand over the silver stubble on my chin, feeling the scratch of it against my rough palm. I very much wanted to crank the radio off. I preferred silence; and for the drive ahead, an audiobook on off-grid housing adaptations—future-planning for the property I’d purchased an hour out of town.

Shopping for that special someone? Zach’s diamonds are the perfect way to say I love you this Christmas.

I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like changing plans. But I’d tossed and turned all night thinking of Sarah Cooper sliding off the road. Hurt, scared.

Worse.

I tightened my grip around the steering wheel.

I needed the weather report. When I got in the truck, I told myself I’d use it to decide whether to go by her place and offer her a ride to the conference we were both headed to today. If they reported snow on the highway, I’d make sure she knew how to get chains on, had fueled up, and had packed an emergency bag in the back like I suggested.

We weren’t driving together, that was for damn sure. The last thing I needed was to have the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about three feet away from me, her panty-hosed legs tucked under her like I sometimes caught her doing in her office; dirty blond hair unpinned and tapping a pen against her bottom lip—next to that little mole along her jaw—in a way that made my pants go tight.

Outside, my neighbor Tim was red-faced, trying to clear his walkway from last night’s snow dump.

“I told you to get the Proline shovel, Tim,” I grumbled under my breath as I took a sip of my dark roast. I’d made extra for the drive, even though I was going alone and only ever drank two cups in the morning. Still, I’d packed two travel mugs. Just in case.

Tim paused and pressed a hand to the small of his back. On the radio, an ad came on for Shoes Central.

“Fuck it,” I grumbled and hopped out of my truck into the heavy snow. I walked up my cleared walk to my garage and grabbed my Proline shovel.

I hated poor quality tools. It was something I’d drilled into everyone at my company, Reilly Contracting. You couldn’t build good homes with shitty tools. Or you could, but you’d hate it every step of the way.

“Jeez, Jamie, you don’t have to do that,” Tim wheezed as I began shoveling snow from the sidewalk. Despite his words, his face was a clear picture of relief. I had a decade on my neighbor, but I could probably bench press him with one arm. And he wasn’t a slim man, either.

“It’s fine.” The work helped keep my mind off Sarah for a split second. Plus, Tim could use all the help he could get. He was going through a rough patch with his wife. The whole neighborhood had heard the late-night door slamming and screeching tires. I remembered what that was like. My wife had left me soon after we’d started speaking in slammed doors.

Tim’s sons appeared on the stoop just as I was finishing up. I saw them every day, but seeing them standing there next to each other, stuffing their faces with toaster waffles, made me pause, my chest tight. They were in middle school now and looked exactly like my boys had at that age.

I nodded. “Boys.” But I could barely look at his oldest. He had the same toothy grin as Kevin had.

I tossed the last of the snow to the side. “Get the Proline,” I told Tim, heading back to my place.

“I will, Jamie.”

He wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. I’d help him the next time, too.

By the time I got back in my truck, it was almost twenty to. The weather report had come and gone.

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