Everywhere and Every Way
Page 30
Morgan slid her hand down her body and under her panties. Already wet and needy, she closed her eyes and let her fingers bring her temporary relief while the fantasy of Caleb Pierce took her away.
And she came with his name on her lips.
chapter eight
For God’s sake, where is everybody?”
Cal tore off his hard hat and scratched his head. Sweat ran down his neck and back in tiny rivulets, so that his T-shirt clung to him. His jeans stuck to his legs, crusted with dried dirt, and he cursed as he stalked over to Jason, the only guy left on the job. Foo Fighters screamed from the boom box, and Caleb stopped in front of the ladder, motioning to Jason to stop hammering.
“Why are we the only ones here?” he yelled up at him.
Jason dragged his forearm across his brow. “Dude, the crew went out to Harry’s last night for dinner. I think they got blasted.”
Temper bit him like a rattlesnake. “I don’t give a shit what they do on their time, but with this deadline, I can’t lose four of my guys. We have to finish framing.”
Jason shrugged. “I went home to get laid. Don’t take it out on me.”
He cursed again and grabbed his cell, punching in the numbers for Sam, his foreman. Son of a bitch. Morgan was due here soon, and his workers decide to tie one on and sleep in. It was nine o’clock and already hot as Hades. This was gonna be a bitch of a day.
“Why is your ass not here?” he growled into the phone when Sam picked up.
His usual dependable worker groaned. “I think I ate something bad, boss. I’m sick.”
Caleb ground his teeth in tempo to the music. His dentist was gonna strangle him. “It’s called a hangover. Morgan’s coming this morning, framing is supposed to be done, and I only have Jason out here. Take some Midol and get your ass over here with the other bozos.”
“Isn’t that for PMS?”
Caleb hung up. He shoved the hat back on his head, maneuvered his way through the multiple beams, and dragged in a deep breath. With such a tight schedule, he’d left little room for error. It had been a miracle they hadn’t hit major issues with the first stage. Sure, they’d gotten a shitload of rain, but he’d pulled in every favor in his arsenal and bought himself a huge team for site prep, pouring the foundation and dealing with the usual horror of setting up the sewer and drain lines.
The usual bitch of such a large job was depending on so many other people to get the work done. Tristan and Dalton had been key in moving this along, though they grumbled most of the time they were using their talent to grease wheels rather than do any hands-on building. Plenty of time for that later, though. Without his electricians, plumbers, excavator, and suppliers happy, work would ground to a halt.
Why the hell did he get involved in this business again?
It sure wasn’t for the glory. Or the money. No, this was high-stress, ass-kissing, physically draining work not meant for the weak of heart.
Yeah. He loved every fucking second.
Caleb thought of calling his brothers for backup, then remembered Dalton had another job and Tristan was in New York to meet with the textile supplier Morgan was hot for. He liked his guy right in town, but that had been another go-around he wasn’t up for, so he stuck it on his brothers to solve. She reminded him of Dalton when he got crazed for a specific type of wood grain and refused to back down. Impossible to argue with. She was rising to the rank of the most annoying, frustrating woman he’d ever met. Too bad he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again.
On cue, she climbed out of the car.
Yeah, he was in trouble. Lately all his spare thoughts had been focused on making her happy in ways that didn’t concern work. It was getting harder not to get hard on a regular basis around her. Every time he tried to figure out what it was about her that fascinated him, he only got more pissed.
Because she had completely ignored the kiss.
Cal had a healthy ego, but the way she’d dismissed him both amused and outraged him. She hadn’t even wanted to talk about it. After he’d followed her back through the woods to her car, she gave him a dismissive wave and drove away. That was two weeks ago, and they still never mentioned the encounter.
How’d he get to be the girl in this weird relationship? His father would’ve died. He actually wanted to talk about what the kiss meant. Which he knew the answer to, anyway.
Nothing. At least to her.
She strode over to him without a pause in her step. Who the hell wore those outfits on the job and got away with it?
Today’s white shorts had a scroll-like design on the sides in pale pink. She wasn’t working the site today, so low-heeled white sandals clad her feet. A white scooped-neck top that managed to look conservative and businesslike was tucked neatly in her waistband, which emphasized her curvy hips and butt. She walked with a graceful purpose and razor-sharp focus that turned him on. Hell, everything about the woman turned him on. She was bossy, nosy, opinionated, and cool as a cucumber. Her Southern drawl nearly brought him to his knees with its rich honeyed texture.
But he refused to surrender to his aching dick.
Yes, he’d liked the kiss. Hell, he’d loved the kiss. But after she dissed him, Cal decided it was a blessing in disguise. Just because she’d taken his dare and gone skinny-dipping didn’t mean she wasn’t a tight-ass conservative in every other part of her life. As tempting as a steamy affair with her would be, she’d probably kill him with minutiae, and after the orgasm, she’d drive him crazy.
Not gonna happen on his watch.
She wasn’t the right book for him, and she sure as hell would never be the proper wood.
She reached him. Her gaze flicked over the site, which clearly showed a single man banging away at the roof to gritty music. Usually there was a full team with staggered breaks for lunch, especially when the end of framing was in sight. The little frown creasing her brow told him what was coming.
“Why is Jason the only one working on my house?”
He was used to the clipped, polite tone. “They were delayed. Sam is on his way with everyone now.”
“I’m not man enough for you, Morgan?” a voice called down.
Caleb stiffened, used to Jason’s humor but hating the flirtatious tone in his voice. Morgan gave him a wave and a sunny smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, darlin’.”
And she came with his name on her lips.
chapter eight
For God’s sake, where is everybody?”
Cal tore off his hard hat and scratched his head. Sweat ran down his neck and back in tiny rivulets, so that his T-shirt clung to him. His jeans stuck to his legs, crusted with dried dirt, and he cursed as he stalked over to Jason, the only guy left on the job. Foo Fighters screamed from the boom box, and Caleb stopped in front of the ladder, motioning to Jason to stop hammering.
“Why are we the only ones here?” he yelled up at him.
Jason dragged his forearm across his brow. “Dude, the crew went out to Harry’s last night for dinner. I think they got blasted.”
Temper bit him like a rattlesnake. “I don’t give a shit what they do on their time, but with this deadline, I can’t lose four of my guys. We have to finish framing.”
Jason shrugged. “I went home to get laid. Don’t take it out on me.”
He cursed again and grabbed his cell, punching in the numbers for Sam, his foreman. Son of a bitch. Morgan was due here soon, and his workers decide to tie one on and sleep in. It was nine o’clock and already hot as Hades. This was gonna be a bitch of a day.
“Why is your ass not here?” he growled into the phone when Sam picked up.
His usual dependable worker groaned. “I think I ate something bad, boss. I’m sick.”
Caleb ground his teeth in tempo to the music. His dentist was gonna strangle him. “It’s called a hangover. Morgan’s coming this morning, framing is supposed to be done, and I only have Jason out here. Take some Midol and get your ass over here with the other bozos.”
“Isn’t that for PMS?”
Caleb hung up. He shoved the hat back on his head, maneuvered his way through the multiple beams, and dragged in a deep breath. With such a tight schedule, he’d left little room for error. It had been a miracle they hadn’t hit major issues with the first stage. Sure, they’d gotten a shitload of rain, but he’d pulled in every favor in his arsenal and bought himself a huge team for site prep, pouring the foundation and dealing with the usual horror of setting up the sewer and drain lines.
The usual bitch of such a large job was depending on so many other people to get the work done. Tristan and Dalton had been key in moving this along, though they grumbled most of the time they were using their talent to grease wheels rather than do any hands-on building. Plenty of time for that later, though. Without his electricians, plumbers, excavator, and suppliers happy, work would ground to a halt.
Why the hell did he get involved in this business again?
It sure wasn’t for the glory. Or the money. No, this was high-stress, ass-kissing, physically draining work not meant for the weak of heart.
Yeah. He loved every fucking second.
Caleb thought of calling his brothers for backup, then remembered Dalton had another job and Tristan was in New York to meet with the textile supplier Morgan was hot for. He liked his guy right in town, but that had been another go-around he wasn’t up for, so he stuck it on his brothers to solve. She reminded him of Dalton when he got crazed for a specific type of wood grain and refused to back down. Impossible to argue with. She was rising to the rank of the most annoying, frustrating woman he’d ever met. Too bad he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again.
On cue, she climbed out of the car.
Yeah, he was in trouble. Lately all his spare thoughts had been focused on making her happy in ways that didn’t concern work. It was getting harder not to get hard on a regular basis around her. Every time he tried to figure out what it was about her that fascinated him, he only got more pissed.
Because she had completely ignored the kiss.
Cal had a healthy ego, but the way she’d dismissed him both amused and outraged him. She hadn’t even wanted to talk about it. After he’d followed her back through the woods to her car, she gave him a dismissive wave and drove away. That was two weeks ago, and they still never mentioned the encounter.
How’d he get to be the girl in this weird relationship? His father would’ve died. He actually wanted to talk about what the kiss meant. Which he knew the answer to, anyway.
Nothing. At least to her.
She strode over to him without a pause in her step. Who the hell wore those outfits on the job and got away with it?
Today’s white shorts had a scroll-like design on the sides in pale pink. She wasn’t working the site today, so low-heeled white sandals clad her feet. A white scooped-neck top that managed to look conservative and businesslike was tucked neatly in her waistband, which emphasized her curvy hips and butt. She walked with a graceful purpose and razor-sharp focus that turned him on. Hell, everything about the woman turned him on. She was bossy, nosy, opinionated, and cool as a cucumber. Her Southern drawl nearly brought him to his knees with its rich honeyed texture.
But he refused to surrender to his aching dick.
Yes, he’d liked the kiss. Hell, he’d loved the kiss. But after she dissed him, Cal decided it was a blessing in disguise. Just because she’d taken his dare and gone skinny-dipping didn’t mean she wasn’t a tight-ass conservative in every other part of her life. As tempting as a steamy affair with her would be, she’d probably kill him with minutiae, and after the orgasm, she’d drive him crazy.
Not gonna happen on his watch.
She wasn’t the right book for him, and she sure as hell would never be the proper wood.
She reached him. Her gaze flicked over the site, which clearly showed a single man banging away at the roof to gritty music. Usually there was a full team with staggered breaks for lunch, especially when the end of framing was in sight. The little frown creasing her brow told him what was coming.
“Why is Jason the only one working on my house?”
He was used to the clipped, polite tone. “They were delayed. Sam is on his way with everyone now.”
“I’m not man enough for you, Morgan?” a voice called down.
Caleb stiffened, used to Jason’s humor but hating the flirtatious tone in his voice. Morgan gave him a wave and a sunny smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, darlin’.”
