Page 2 of Legacy of Smoke
“Real. He was sapper in the Corps, and he’s got a degree in civil engineering.
“Is he running the crew?” That would almost certainly kill the budget.
“No.”
Huh. While welcome to hear, it was a waste. With that kind of experience, the new guy, Mr. God-bod,shouldbe running a crew. “Why not?”
“Oh, man, I love you for that, Poppy. If I wasn’t already married, I’d ask you for your hand right now. You know that?”
Another thing I’d heard often. “And like I’ve told you a million times, my dad would kick your ass if you did.”If Dad was here.
He donned his wildest, most sarcastic, toothiest clown grin. “I’m damn lucky that ornery motherfucker is locked up.”
“Damn straight. So, why isn’t the new guy running a crew?”
Sprout sobered. “He’s… prospecting.”
The fuck? He had a vest. I couldn’t remember if I’d seen the back, but I could have sworn I’d seen a name patch on the front. That, and he was a good ten, maybe fifteen years too smart to go through hell for at least a year. “Really?”
“It’s complicated.”
Code for,don’t ask, Poppy. “Alright. Standard rate for day labor, or full-time?”
“Full time if we can swing it?”
Ouch. That was going to kill our margin. “I’ll figure it out.”
“You’re the best, Poppy.”
It was no secret that most construction firms knew I did excellent work, but lately, it seemed that didn’t matter as much, and I’d get passed over for someone taller, or prettier, or thinner, or male. Sprout was the only person in the area who made a point to contact me first, last, and only. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give. Loyalty was paramount. But it never hurt to prop up my image. “That’s why you hired me.”
“Damn straight.”
“I’ll need his info. Unless we need to keep that out of the paperwork?” Sure, I was fishing, but it was also a test to see how bad of an awful past we were dealing with.
“Crap. I didn’t think about that. I’ll call him in.” Sprout leaned out of the construction trailer and yelled, “Smoke’m get your ass in here, Poppy needs your ID.”
He had a nickname. But was prospecting.Complicated, indeed.
“You’re going to like this guy. I swear on my mamma about that.”
“You keep swearing, your mamma will hit you hard enough, it will finally knock some sense into you.”
“Hell no. Ain’t worked yet.” Sprout’s laughter was contagious.
“Maybe she hit you too hard, then.” The new guy stood in the doorway. His low voice sent a chill through me that left tingles in its wake.
He was backlit by the Autumn sunlight and still too damn handsome. I was shocked speechless by his wavy brown hair, scruffy beard, chiseled cheekbones, and the way his craggy brow didn’t completely overpower his soft hazel eyes.
I shut my mouth and sucked the dryness from my tongue. Then, for good measure sent a smile to both Sprout and the newcomer to hide my embarrassment.
“Bro.” Sprout hugged him with a solid back slap that would fell a lesser man. “I need you to meet Poppy, ‘don’t know if you remember her or not? Poppy? This is Smoke’m, sorry, Austin Vaughn. He is my fucking best friend.” He turned to Austin and continued, “Damn man, I’m so glad you’re out. That was fucking bullshit.” They clasped hands with familiarity. And Sprout slapped his back again.
“Poppy? Wait, PoppyAlbert?” Austin asked.
If he knew me bythatlast name, it meant hereallyknew my dad. No one called me that since Mom divorced him and took everything of his and ditched him faster than you can say “Delta Airlines.” I stood and held out a hand. “It’s Hikialani, but yes. My dad is Jeffrey Albert.”
“Pinner’s daughter. Wow.” He scanned me from head to toe and back. Twice. “He’s got a picture of your mother in his cell. I think you’re prettier.”
