Page 30 of Fragile Sanctuary

Rhodes’ gaze jerked to me, her eyes widening a fraction, lips parting.

Davis scoffed. “Waste of time and money.”

I ignored him and turned to Rhodes. “You got a minute?”

“Sure,” she said quickly, wiping dirt from her hands on her shorts that revealed tanned legs with sinewy muscle. Legs I didnotneed to be staring at.

“We’re talking,” Davis clipped.

Rhodes turned to him. “No, you were monologuing.”

He snapped his mouth closed, the look in his eyes going hot with anger.

She sighed. “I appreciate the offer of help, but I don’t need it. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Davis’s jaw worked back and forth. “You’re in over your head.” Then he turned and climbed back into his BMW, tires spitting gravel as he swung in a tight circle and took off.

Rhodes’ shoulders slumped as he disappeared in a cloud of dust. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled.

“Not yours to be sorry about.”

Her head lifted, those green-gold eyes locking with mine. “What did you need?”

“Nothing. Could just tell you were uncomfortable. Wanted to give you an out.”

Rhodes kept staring at me, confusion swirling through her expression. “You’re never predictable, are you, Anson?”

She said my name with a softness that had my entire body standing at attention. Everything in me wanted to lean closer, yet at the same time, my brain was screaming at me to cut this off, lash out, and push her away.

“Just don’t like seeing women intimidated. That’s all.” I turned to stalk away before she could say another word, or her voice could curl around my name like a physical caress.

I had to keep my distance from Rhodes. She had a way of breaking through the numbness I’d made my home for the past two years. And that was just as dangerous as she was.

“You kick the douche to the curb?” a voice called from the makeshift table we’d set up in front of the house.

I glanced at the crew member who’d asked the question. Silas was a hard worker with a single-minded focus that came in handy on every job we came across. And he was a good guy, other than moving from woman to woman with a speed that made my head spin.

“Think he kicked himself to the curb,” I muttered.

Another of our crew ambled over, water bottle in hand. Owen didn’t have quite the work ethic Silas did. His breaks were legendary, and he had a reputation for punching first and asking questions later. “He’ll be back. Money like that don’t like hearing no.”

“He might want to get used to it,” I gritted out.

“Shep won’t stand for it,” Silas said. “He’ll make sure the message gets across. Or he’ll put Trace on it.”

As if saying his name had conjured him, Shep’s silver truckbumped along the uneven drive. We needed to get the thing regraded before one of us broke an axle.

Shep pulled in between various other vehicles and quickly hopped out, glancing toward the guest cottage as he walked toward us. “A silver BMW come by here?”

Carlos, another crew member, grinned as he walked over. “Moneybags came and went.”

Concern spread across Shep’s expression as he cursed.

“Don’t worry,” Silas assured him. “Anson sent him packing.”

Shep’s focus sliced to me in silent question.

I shifted my weight. “It was nothing. Just made sure she was okay, and he took off.”

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