Nailed, Page 4

Mandy rolled her eyes. Her fingers itched to put the book in her hands back on the shelf. “I don’t know why you read this when there are plenty of girls out there that think you’re hot and you could be living it.”

  “Yeah, right,” he snorted, flipping through the pages.

  “If only these came illustrated.”

  Mandy laughed, stuck the book he’d handed her back on the shelf and tugged his sleeve. He didn’t move.

  “You go get us seats,” he muttered. “I’m going to see if I can muster up the nerve to pick out more than one.”

  Mandy looked around. “Aisle’s all clear, you’re safe.” With a grin and a pat to his shoulder she left him and went in search of long-term seating.

  She headed back to the open area where couches, chairs and tables were set up. A few people sat sprawled in the brown, plaid couches placed here and there for extended reading pleasure. Though meant to hold three to four customers, one guy had laid himself the length of one, his head behind a thick volume of something she couldn’t read from that distance. That left only two fat, leather chairs and Mandy went right to one of the two, plopped her bag down and sat in the other. She and Cam religiously occupied a couch whenever they had a ‘Barnes and Noble night’ as they called them, but with mister hog-it-all stretched out like he owned the place, they’d have to use the chairs instead.

  Now that she’d saved spots, she could watch people and wait, or take the risk of losing one of the places while she chose her books for the night.

  If only she had something else she could leave in the chair to mark it as saved. But then she couldn’t very well leave her bag. She decided people watching would have to do.

  Bookstore enthusiasts intrigued her. Nowhere else, with the exception maybe of confession, could you find such a vast variety of people. Like the grey-haired man to her right. He wore his thick mane in a stubby pony tail. His black brows were pinched over black eyes, focused on a copy of Herbs for Life. The silky red shirt he wore buttoned to the neck made him look like he’d just stepped off the boat from the Orient.

  There was a woman typing away at an open laptop. Her small glasses kept sliding to the tip of her nose, breaking her constant tapping on the keys every time she had to shove them back up.

  Mandy recognized a handful of regulars who frequented the place as often as she did. The ‘kissers’

  were one of them. The couple sat stuffed in a Lovesac, snuggling, kissing and groping, hiding behind a GQ

  magazine. Every week the magazine was the same, which told Mandy they weren’t there for the latest in men’s fashion. She let out a sigh of disapproval she hoped they heard. Neither came up for air, their lips remained locked. Disgusted, Mandy shifted, her gaze wandering back to mister hog-it-all, lying on the couch.

  How rude that he still hasn’t moved, she thought, ready to storm over and rip the book out of his hands.

  What could a thoughtless person like that be reading? Now that she was seated, she could read the title, Think and Grow Rich. She smirked. Better to think and grow smart, buddy. Smart as in: don’t hoard all the couch space for yourself or you might end up on the floor.

  “Psst. Hey.”

  Mandy tore her scathing gaze from mister hog-it-all to find Cam striding toward her. He had a stack of paperbacks under his arm and a look of red guilt on his face.

  “You did it,” she said in a congratulatory tone.

  He sat down beside her, stuffing the books behind him. “Some lady started looking in the section so I grabbed what I could. Figured I’d sort later.” His darting gaze lit on the kissing couple. He eased the backpack off into the chair. “I see the kissers are here again.” His gaze stayed on the couple who’d stopped to come up for air, pretending to read now.

  “That’s the first time they’ve taken a time out,”

  Mandy whispered.

  The longing was obvious in Cam’s eyes. He wanted to be Mr. Kisser. “She’s so amazing.”

  Mandy rolled her eyes. “She’s taken. You will be too, when the time is right.”

  “You’ve been telling me that since junior high school.” He sighed, faced her. His skin was paler than hers, a feature she knew he hated. His hair wasn’t bright, but rich, almost burnt maple and it brought out the green flecks in his eyes. Through the years he’d tried dying his hair, even his eyebrows, figuring the color change would be less repugnant to girls but Mandy knew lots of girls that liked him because he was tons of fun, and he had a great face, even with the amber hair and fair skin. “I’ve had, what, one girlfriend in the interim?”

  “Tina Margolis.”

  Cam nodded. “Tina Margarine everybody called her, including me. She had such greasy hair.” His gaze slid back to the kissing couple. “We never did anything like that.”

  “Quit panting like a dog.” Mandy turned his chin back toward her when his gaze started toward the lip-locked couple. “You don’t have to beg for anybody.”

  “I don’t?” He teased, grinned. “Since I can’t have miss kisser over there, I’m going to drown my lust in a double chocolate mocha Italian soda.” He stood. “You want anything before we settle in?”

  “Yeah, get me a caramel latte freeze.”

  Turning, she scanned those sitting or otherwise engaged in the reading area. The woman with the laptop was still tapping away. The kissing couple was back at it, and Herbs for Life man was now on his second volume, Super Herbs for Life.

  Then her gaze wandered to the guy on the couch.

  Only now mister hog-it-all wasn’t hiding behind his Think and Grow Rich book. His dark brown eyes locked with hers.

  Boston.

  She hardly recognized him fully clothed in beaten jeans and clean white tee shirt. His explosion of dark hair wasn’t mashed against his head, but thick and soft looking framing his face. Most mesmerizing were his rich, dark eyes, fastened on hers. Her pulse skipped. She waved, but all he did was slide Think and Grow Rich back in front of his face. Mandy frowned. Nothing intimidated her, most definitely not a guy. She took a deep breath so her pulse would settle, rose and crossed over to him.

  “Hey.” She stood close enough that he couldn’t hide behind his book anymore, and tilted her head. “I thought maybe you didn’t recognize me,” she joked,

  “out of my construction garb.”

  Because he didn’t sit up, didn’t even open his mouth to say anything, she crossed her arms. “I know you’ve sworn off women, but I don’t count.”

  She thought amusement lightened his eyes. “You’re right.” He sat up then, and extended long legs to the floor. “You don’t count.”

  Her eyes bulged for only a second before slitting.

  “But I am the boss’s daughter, and some brown nosing is absolutely mandatory.”

  His lips curved a little. Mandy took it as an invitation to sit down and did. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Aah, reading?”

  “You gave up drinking and fighting off women for a night with,” she tilted his book so she could read the cover, see the author’s name, “Napoleon?”

  He raised his arms over his head in a long stretch

  “Yeah.”

  Mandy’s cheeks went hot when he caught her appraising him again.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I definitely didn’t want a night of drinking and fighting off women. Much rather sip an Italian soda and read. I come here all the time. I check out the house plans, stuff like that.”

  He glanced at her empty hands.

  “I haven’t gotten the books yet. I’m lucky to get a seat, so that’s first priority. There isn’t enough seating, but then you obviously aren’t cognizant of that since you were, what, almost camped out here?”

  “I like to read lying down.”

  “What if everybody else likes to read lying down?”

  He lifted a shoulder with a playful grin. “First come, first served.”

  “Exactly. Not first come, first snooze.”


  He ticked his head at her.

  At least she’d made her point about hogging the couch. “So, Think and Grow Rich, huh? Does it really work? It would seem to me that if it was that easy, everybody would be thinking instead of working.”

  “It doesn’t mean you don’t work. You work smarter.”

  “There’s a smarter way to shoot a nail gun then?”

  He was trying not to laugh. Mandy was glad he was still smiling.

  “So you don’t want to build houses all your life?” She was curious about him now, about what he protected deep inside. “What do you want to do?”

  He shrugged but Mandy wasn’t fooled by the attempt at indecision. Behind his serious eyes, his mind raced and she wanted to know with what. She opened her mouth to ask, but his eyes left hers, moving to something behind her.

  Mandy turned and found Cam smiling over her shoulder. He held out the drink to her.

  “Thanks.” Mandy took the drink. “Cam, this is Boston.

  He’s on the framing crew I’m working with.”

  Cam gave a nod. Mandy watched him under tight brows wondering why he was checking out Boston with wary eyes. Boston lifted off the couch just enough so his extended hand was there for Cam to shake.

  “It’s Charlie,” he said when they shook.

  “So you work together?” Cam looked from Boston to Mandy. Mandy sipped, nodded. “Cool.” Cam rocked back on his heels. “How’s the job, anyway?” he addressed Mandy then, and drew from his straw. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “It was only my first day.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve been planning this for, what, six years?” He reached out and pinched her cheek playfully.

  “So was it everything you dreamed?”

  She laughed. “Just about.”

  “Marc put up his usual stink?”

  “Of course. Which he continued at home.”

  Cam lifted his shoulders. “Yeah, figures.” He slurped again. “This is good tonight. Yours?”

  “Great.” Mandy realized she and Cam had gotten caught up in chatting and totally ignored Boston. She turned to him. “Well.”

  “Well.” Cam took a step back. “I’m going to go get a…napkin. Be right back.”

  Mandy watched Cam go and took a long sip of the icy caramel drink.

  Boston stood, and twisted his upper torso until a popping sound brought a sigh from his chest. Then he looked at Mandy. “I gotta run.”

  “Don’t let me scare you away. I promise Cam and I will stay on the other side of the room.”

  His lips barely curved up. “You don’t scare me.”

  He held the book tucked next to his heart as he looked down into her eyes. But you scare me, she thought after a slug of want hit her in the stomach. Not because she felt like she was in harm’s way. His aura was something she’d never felt before, something mysterious and alluring wrapped in two fists ready to fight. For the first time, she realized how heady it would be to have that kind of power over a guy, especially a guy sworn to resist.

  “See ya tomorrow,” she piped. He nodded. He walked away and Mandy followed the easy sway of his stride until he turned a corner. Her mind flashed a picture of him under the sun, bronzed and sweaty, and on his knees at her feet. She blinked, shook her head and put a cool palm over her cheek. What was with her, anyway?

  Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Boston? Worse, she didn’t have the decency to clothe him when she fantasized about him. No, he was always in his shorts and tool belt.

  Priding herself on self control, Mandy looked at the couch, at the indented spot where he’d sat. “Get a hold of yourself,” she muttered around her straw and sipped, but didn’t taste. Then she inched toward the spot and guiltily lowered herself, sure everyone was watching. Mr.

  Herbs for Life hadn’t noticed, still engrossed in his book.

  And the kissers were at it again, their mouths like fish under water.

  “We’re here now?” Cam asked coming back, napkins in hand.

  “I prefer the couch, don’t you?” Mandy asked.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ll get the backpack. You get my books.”

  “Me?”

  In three fast strides, Cam had the backpack and plopped himself next to her. Mandy grumbled, got up and snatched his assortment of romance novels then sat back down.

  Cam settled into the couch with a dramatic shudder. “Every time I come here, the guy behind the counter in the café comes onto me.”

  “It’s because you’re so cute.”

  Cam winced. “I need a girlfriend, fast. One that’s female preferably.” Cam looked around. “Speaking of…

  where’s your friend?”

  “He’s hardly my friend. We work together.”

  “That generally makes people friends.”

  “Not with this guy,” she mumbled. “He’s sworn off females.”

  Cam’s face twisted. “I knew there was something wrong with him.”

  “You did not. He’s just—”

  “Believe me, I speak from experience. Only, I’m not stupid enough to self impose such a torturous state of being. That gives self-flagellation a new name. What, don’t tell me—he’s gay.”

  “Of course not.” Why she felt compelled to defend Boston, baffled her. “He got burned. At least that’s what the guys tell me.”

  “The guys?”

  “The other guys on the framing team.”

  Cam nodded. “They masochistic like he is?”

  She shook her head and sucked the last bit of her drink until air scraped the straw. “They’re red-blooded and horny like you.”

  Cam buried his face in his hands. “See? It’s just something you girls will never understand, this drive, this need, this thing so big—”

  “Stop! Stop!” Mandy laughed, shoving one of his books at him. “Here.”

  “No, I’m serious. Girls never—”

  “One of the sexes has to maintain control, Cameron.

  God made sure he gave the extra power to women that’s all.”

  Cam groaned, and his gaze went back to the kissing couple. “Like you don’t have enough power over us already.”

  “You got that.” Mandy shook her empty cup, rattling ice and the straw. Another vision of Boston on his knees at her feet flashed through her head. She tipped back her cup for the last drop of drink, determined not to think of him again.

  chapter four

  The next morning, Mandy stood with the guys in a semi-circle around Marc, waiting for her assignment as they started work framing the second floor.

  “Charlie and me will work the family room. A.J., you and Larry start in the office and bath.” Marc slid a hard stare at Mandy. “You can nail.”

  Mandy crossed her arms. “That’s flunkie work.”

  Marc gave a cocky shrug. He smiled at Boston, jerked his head, and the two of them started off to the other side of the house.

  Mandy ground out a growl. It wasn’t professional to argue with the boss, even if the boss was her brother, someone she’d spent plenty of time arguing with. Like an obedient apprentice, she kept her mouth zipped. She took in a deep breath.

  “He just doesn’t want you to get hurt.” A.J. was already at the six foot stack of joists with a grin on his face. He had his head wrapped again, this time with a blue bandana, and he looked like a pirate.

  “He’s such a chauvinist,” Mandy mumbled. She pulled out her hammer and gave it a swing in Marc’s direction.

  A.J. and Larry lifted a stack of two-by-ten foot joists and carried them closer to the area where they would be working.

  “He could care less about me getting hurt. He just doesn’t want me doing anything that will make me his equal.”

  A.J. crossed back to the waiting stack of lumber with a grin aimed at her. “You’re already his equal.” He bent over, ready to pick up another piece, and waited until Larry had gripped it. “One, two, three.” He walked backwards, leading Larry to the spot where they dropped the wood into a pile.


  Begrudgingly, Mandy started at one corner of the house and double checked the plywood sheathing for secure placement. Every now and then she shot Marc a glare, even though he was engrossed in work and didn’t see.

  It took most of the morning to lay the floor joists over the main floor. Mandy envied Boston and Larry lithely balancing on the installed beams overhead like tightrope walkers in a circus. Once there were enough joists, plywood flooring was laid on top, creating a growing floor of wood.