Page 32 of Single-Minded
“That seems to be a recurring theme with you,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m surprised you didn’t hire someone to do this for you.”
“I love putting furniture together,” I said. “Chloe thinks it’s the weirdest thing, but I find it soothing. And rewarding.” I gestured at the desk and the two side cabinets.
“How come you didn’t get the good stuff that doesn’t need to be assembled?”
I shrugged and grinned. “Maybe this is my hobby.” Once I had the bags set out so I could see the labels, I stood and stepped over the piles of various-sized wood pieces until I faced him.
“And you thought you didn’t have one,” he said, peering down at me with those compelling green eyes, laugh lines appearing at the outer corners.
Something about the way he looked at me made me feel like he really saw me, saw parts of me others didn’t. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“I’m trying to find ways to occupy my time that don’t count as working.” I let my gaze flit to his lips, thinking once again I could pass a lot of time getting naked with him.
He apparently read my mind, because he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, seeming nervous. “Presley, you tempt me like I’ve never been tempted before, but I can’t mix work with pleasure.”
“You said you wouldn’t lose your job over something like messing around with a client.”
“It’s not that simple.” He paced a couple of steps away, looking as if he was searching for the right words, words I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like.
“My girls are everything,” he said. “Everything I do is for them, to give them the best life I can. If I mess this up, I let them down.”
Remembering how involved he’d been with his daughters, how obviously loving, I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a really good dad.”
“One of our guys at Dawson Construction is retiring due to a bad back,” West said, ignoring my compliment. “He’s been second-in-command under Levi.”
“You want his position,” I guessed.
He nodded once. “It’s between me and another guy. This summer is our audition, I guess you could say. Nick’s overseeing a big outdoor project, and I’m overseeing this one. Levi’s gonna pick based on how we do.”
“I have no complaints about the work you and the guys have done so far. I’ll give you a glowing review whether you kiss me again or not.” I shot a flirty grin at him.
“I appreciate that.” He didn’t smile in spite of my light tone. “No offense, but I don’t think someone who can pay cash for a big house can understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck. I don’t have a cushion or a backup. It’s all me. Those girls are depending on me.”
The conviction in his tone, the dedication to his girls… That was so…hot.
It didn’t make sense to me. Nothing about my attraction to him made sense. I wasn’t looking for a long-term guy, never mind one who came with kids. I just frankly wanted to have a good time. It’d been too long since I’d been with a guy.
And yet I needed to make something clear to him. “I totally understand living paycheck to paycheck,” I said quietly. “We were dirt poor growing up, even before my parents split. I started working at fourteen to help my mom and sister pay for groceries and rent. My mom didn’t get promoted to manager until I was seventeen, which helped a little, but we had no savings. My dad never paid a cent of support. So I get it, West. I remember.”
My childhood, the financial insecurity, those were what had driven me to go into finance, to work my butt off, to make as much money as I could, invest it, be set for life. I never wanted to feel like if I called in sick when I legitimately had the flu, I wouldn’t be able to pay the utility bill.
I’d sworn from the time I was a teenager I would never rely on someone else the way my mom had during her marriage. Their traditional setup—where the husband made the income, and the wife stayed home with the kids—did not work for me. I didn’t judge anyone who chose that way of life, but it would never be me. I needed to be in charge of my own life, financial and otherwise.
“You had a deadbeat dad too, huh?” he said, his tone a lot gentler.
“Deadbeat, controlling, abusive, all the good stuff,” I said.
An icy look entered his eyes. “Did he put his hands on you?”
I shook my head. “Only on my mom. He was more of the emotionally abusive type to me and my sister.”
He growled low and shook his head.
“Did yours?” I asked carefully.
West
I scoffed. “My father, and I use that term only in the biological sense, disappeared when my mom told him she was pregnant with me. I never met him. No desire to.” I looked at her intently. “Last I knew, he was in prison.”
