Page 4 of Forbidden Match

With a huge sigh, he pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket and smooths it out. “I knew you’d say that, so Icrunched the numbers. There’ll be more profit if we just take the extension and don’t offer all the overtime you give away like candy.”

I shrug at him.

When I was working for other contractors, all the way back to when I was in high school, Ilivedfor overtime. I know my guys have things they can all use extra money for. I live frugally and any profit I make goes back into the business. There’s no reason to be greedy like this when we don’t have to be.

“I gave a date for the town to have a grand opening,” I tell Jim, not bothering to look at his paper. “As long as we don’t compromise the safety of the guys or the structure, I mean to stick to that. I’ve never asked for an extension before and unless there’s some kind of rare earthquake that splits this site into a ravine, then I’m not about to start.”

He casts his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t even joke about stuff like that. We don’t need that sort of bad luck. And knowing your stubborn ass, you’d just build a bunch of scaffolds and keep working, disaster site or not.”

“Damn straight,” I agree, clapping him on the shoulder.

Jim doesn’t push it and we both leave the trailer to find the guys breathing into their hands to warm them and waiting on instructions. They range from kids who just graduated high school and are eager to learn like I used to be, all the way up to the most skilled builders in the area.

I lay into them like they’re wayward kindergarteners who just upended the art supplies the second the teacher’s back was turned.

“I’ve got no complaints about quality, but you guys have to get your heads out of your asses if we’re going to get back on target,” I say. “You’re either being lazy or the work’s too much for you. If you’re being lazy, knock that shit off. If it’s too much, come and tell me and I’ll hire more workers. And don’t think because I said I had no complaints about quality that means you can relax. You can always do better, always. Treat this rec center like it’s the goddamn Taj Mahal and show some pride in what you do.”

As they shamble off to their assignments, I call out for anyone wanting overtime to sign up in the trailer. “When you’re on your break,” I shout when most of them turn eagerly to get their names on the list immediately.

Jim groans as we head to the cement mixer to get it fired up for the day.

“What?” I smirk at him. “I wasn’t hard on them this time, was I?”

He rolls his eyes. “You need to get out into civilization more if you thinkthatwas taking it easy.”

“You’re too soft,” I counter. “Should we have had a fucking tea party to break the news that we’re behind schedule?”

He laughs at my reference. He isn’t embarrassed at all about the picture his wife put on social media of him wearing a tiara to have high tea with his three little daughters and their stuffed animals, complete with a dainty pink cup balanced in his calloused fingers.

We haul bags of concrete mix from the delivery truck and as soon as he drops one on the pile, he gives me a look. “Seriously, though, Levi. You should get out more. My wife worries about you out there in the woods all alone. She thinks you eat raw squirrels or something.”

I bust out laughing, even as the comment stings just a little.

Why can’t people understand that I like being on my own? That I like the peace of being surrounded by nature? “I made myself a steak last night, for your information.”

“Yeah, she’s mostly just joking about the squirrels. But …” His face turns red as he sighs deeply. “Valentine’s Day is this weekend. She’s been nagging me about setting you up with her—”

“Nope,” I say flatly, turning toward the machine. “You can tell Lindy you tried, but nope. Absolutely not.”

“A double date could be fun,” he continues. The nerve of happily married people, I swear. Even my death glare doesn’t get him to back down.

“I’m going to be out here with whoever signs up for overtime this weekend,” I say, stalking over to inspect the area that needs to be poured once the concrete is mixed.

Hopefully, he’ll shut the hell up about blind dates. No time, no inclination. Except for …

I shake my head as if I can chase the thought away like an annoying bug. There’s no way that particular woman would be the one to show up at Jim’s wife’s little setup, and I don’t want anyone else.

And since I can’t haveher, I remain alone. The way I like it.

The thing is though—I think she’d like the way I live. We’re compatible that way. It’s too fucking bad because she’s off limits.

I manage to get my head on straight and work until just before lunchtime. Just before we all go on break, I decide to order lunch for the guys since Ididadmittedly go a little hard on themearlier, and they’ve been working like machines all morning. I call up the sandwich shop and have them send over a feast. I even get the special Valentine’s Day cheesecake the girl on the phone wouldn’t stop raving about. I can’t catch a break from hearing about stupid Cupid’s special day, but cheesecake is cheesecake, chocolate covered strawberries on top or not.

When the lunch arrives to cheers, I wait until everyone’s grabbed a bag and take the last one, a roast chicken and avocado, along with kettle chips and a slice of the highly rated cheesecake. I devour everything, taking the plastic cover off the slice of dessert to find a piece of paper folded up and stuck to the inside with a gold heart sticker. I’m about to toss it when I see “You won!” printed on the sticker.

Curious, I unfold it as I shovel in a bite of the cherry cheesecake. The delicious dessert goes sour in my mouth as I see the prize.

“What the fuck?” I say, shrugging off one of the high school kid’s glances at my outburst.

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