Page 27 of Sunshine
“I called but they won’t talk to me. I’m the fucking contractor and they won’t tell me shit.” He throws one of his hands up. “Christ, I’m paying my crew for standing around drinking coffee right now.” He looks back at the group of men by their trucks talking. “Case, we can’t start framing the second floor until we get it.” Mack looks at his own watch and frowns. “We’re already behind.”
I scratch my beard. “I’ll call them. Is there anything else we can do in the meanwhile?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. You’ve had us doing all the little quiet shit in the mornings for the last while. This is really going to fuck with our deadline. I can ask the guys about staying late, and maybe working this weekend but that’ll mean time and a half tonight and double on the weekend.”
I grunt my response, not liking that idea but having no choice. Pulling out my phone, I raise a finger. “Give me a minute to find out what’s going on.”
After twenty minutes on the phone, two supervisors and a premium payment for rush delivery later, I’m livid. Heat rises on my neck as I shoot daggers across the field.Someonethat the lumber yard claimed was my wife, who was,no offense, but a bit full of herself—their words not mine—had cancelled the order last minute and made it so only me or her could make any changes from then on.
I don’t even try to argue the extra fees since I’m desperate and they’re pissed. I consider myself lucky as fuck they’re still willing to work with me. But no matter how much begging I do, they can’t get my damn order here until Monday now.
As soon as I hang up, I let loose a string of profanity and toss my phone into Mack’s truck. I can’t lose this much time. We’re already way fucking behind!
“What’s going on?” Mack asks, walking up to me. Normally, I’m a chill guy, letting most things roll off my back, so when Mack sees me, he steps back right away.
“Whose ass needs to be kicked?” he asks.
I just curse.
“I’ll be back,” I grumble and start for the field toward Tessa’s, since I know without a doubt she’s the culprit. Not only is she the most ‘full of herself’ person I know, but this is also right up her alley. It’s one thing to fuck with me, but now she’s fucking with every guy on my crew.
Look out, Tessa Harlow, because you’re about to meet your match.
Chapter Nine
Case
I see her on the back deck as I cross the tree line, but as soon as I’m close enough for her to notice me, she rises and disappears inside. I speed up, ready to bust down her door, tripping over two uneven boards on her deck just as I hear the lock click into place. The stumble calms me slightly, so instead of kicking her door in like Python Keller might, I pound on it with a fist.
Grinding my teeth, I stare at the door, the muscles of my jaw aching. No answer. “Open this goddamn door, Miss Fancy Pants, I need to have a word with you.” I pound a little harder when she doesn’t respond.
“Go away. I’m working.” She sing-songs the words like the fucking VIP she thinks she is and my temper flares like gas thrown on a bonfire.
“Exactly what I should be doing!”
“I’m not stopping you, Mr. Biker.”
“The hell you aren’t!” A vein in my temple starts to throb. I pound again on the door. She peeks out from behind the curtain, pointing to my half-framed house.
“If you’re lost, your job site is over there,” she says. Goddamned brat!
“You cancelled my lumber order! And now it’s delayed until Monday.”
“I did no such thing,” she says sounding offended before changing her tone to an empathetic one. “But that’s unfortunate for you.”
I growl sounding like a beast and pound on the door again. “Get out here, woman! Let’s solve this like reasonable adults,” I yell.
“Yes, and you sound so much like a reasonable adult right now.”
Fuck, if she doesn’t have me there, and now I feel like we’re playing out the scene from Beauty and the Beast where Beast demands Belle come down for supper, then changes his tone and Belle daintily but haughtily refuses. Which reminds me of why I know that scene so well. It’s Reece’s favorite.
I take deep breaths until I calm my ass down because this isn’t about me. It’s about Reece. That’s when I notice the cell phone and book left on the little table where Tessa has been working. It’s the same book she was reading the first night we met.
With a dry laugh, I grab the book and phone and walk off the porch, intentionally pounding my feet as I go. Heading my regular route home, but I loop around and hop stealthily over the porch railing on the side without windows.
Planting my ass down next to the door, still out of sight, I lean back, punch my number into her phone under the contact name, Tank Long. I put the phone back onto the table ever so quietly before getting back into my stealthy position. Opening the book to read, I wait.
It takes exactly thirty minutes before I hear movement inside, and by then I’ve read a good chunk of the erotic romance,and I hate to admit it, but I can understand the appeal. The romance genre gets a bad wrap. I’m enjoying the book more than I thought possible.
