Page 97 of Single-Minded
“We need to do all the doorknobs and most of the drawer and cabinet pulls in the kitchen. I think there’s some outlet covers to finish. Little stuff like that.”
“Show me how to do the pulls, and I’ll do those?”
“That’s a plan. Follow me.”
As I led her out of the office, I once again kept my chin up. Out in the front area, West was on a ladder, working on the light fixtures. I confess I drank in his profile while his beefy arms were over his head and his shirt stretched up, revealing that trail of dark hair that led down his abdomen to the treasure in his pants.
Clenching my jaw, I averted my gaze and went into the kitchen that was a lot smaller now that all the counters and appliances were in place. There were lots of cabinets for storage. West and I had managed to install exactly two pulls last night before deciding to save them for today and then rushing to my house for…
Yeah. For the shit show that was last night.
I showed Magnolia how to attach the silver pulls on the drawers, then left her to it while I tackled the doorknobs. Back in my office, I pulled out my phone and searched for a short how-to video. This task wasn’t complex, but I hadn’t done it before. I had no intention of asking West.
I started with the door of the restroom closest to the front and gradually worked my way back toward my office. The three of us worked in a tense silence, each in our own spaces.
As I took the knob for my office out of the package, West sauntered into the room.
“Hey,” he said in a private voice, the one he’d used with me for the past few weeks whenever we were alone and sometimes at my house when his crew couldn’t hear. “How are you doing?”
My gaze snapped to his face, the intimacy of his voice making my chest hurt. I wasn’t going there. He’d drawn the line last night, and I was staying fully on my side of it today and forever more.
“Just fine,” I said curtly.
“Don’t do that, Presley,” he said in a quiet plea.
Something in me snapped. He had the nerve to plead with me?
This was his doing. He was now nothing more than my contractor.
“Are the light fixtures finished?” I asked, keeping my voice even, professional.
“Yes.”
“What’s left for you to work on?”
“Whatever you need me to help with. I can work on the pulls or the outlet covers.”
“Magnolia and I can handle those just fine. You can go.”
“If you let me know exactly where you want the shelves in the self-serve area, I could?—”
“Just go, West. I’ll pay you for a full day today. Send me the final invoice. I’ll take care of it quickly. I’ll give you good reviews wherever you need me to. Just…please, go.”
He studied me with those astute green eyes, searching, as if waiting to see if I’d relent or soften.
I wouldn’t.
After so many seconds ticked by, he nodded once. “Okay. I’ll pick up my tools and ladder Tuesday evening.”
I turned away from him and went back to my task as if he wasn’t standing there.
He hesitated for one last moment, as if giving me a chance to…what? What the actual hell did he expect me to do right now? Beg him to give me another chance? Profess my undying love…again?
Too late. My love was pissed now, soon to be fading fast, I hoped.
I kept at the doorknob, my body tensed, my back to the rest of the shop.
He called out a goodbye to Magnolia, then walked out the front door.
