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“You think I’m stupid enough to fall for that? For all I know, that could be a key to the storage shed where you hide your victims in barrels full of acid.”
He blinked a few times but didn’t lose his amused half smile. “Wow. Been watching a few too many horror movies, have we?”
Okay, maybe it was a bit of an overreaction to accuse him of being a serial killer, but she wasn’t about to back down now. “My point is I don’t know who you are or why you’re breaking into my restaurant.”
“Your restaurant? Wrong. This is Brodie Thorne’s restaurant.”
The board slid a little in her hand and she finally set it down to rest one end on the ground, wondering uneasily if she might have made a teensy little mistake here.
“Okay, technically, yes.” The restaurant was Brodie’s, if one considered that he was the person who took all the risks and paid all the bills. “But I’m his chef.”
The guy’s half smile turned into a full-fledged one and her stomach fluttered at the impact of it. Oh, my.
“We appear to have a little misunderstanding here. You must be Alexandra McKnight.”
She squinted at him. “Maybe.”
“Brodie told me about you, but for some reason I thought you would be older.”
She made a face. She would be thirty-seven this year, which felt ancient sometimes. “Okay, so we’ve established who I am. Now who the hell are you?”
“Oh, sorry.” Coming out of that rough-edged, dangerous-looking face, the charm of his friendly smile caught her off guard.
“I’m Sam Delgado. I’m going to be finishing up your kitchen.”
His words finally penetrated her thick skull and she wanted to throw her face in her hands. She was an idiot who shouldn’t be let out in public.
This man was charged with building her kitchen in an insane handful of weeks and the first thing she did to welcome him aboard the project was accuse him of stealing what were probably his own tools.
If she wanted this kitchen to provide ideal working conditions, she had to work closely with the contractor Brodie had picked. How would she be able to do that now, with this inauspicious beginning?
She propped the board against the wall and faced him with what she hoped was an apologetic look. “Oops.”
To her relief, he didn’t seem upset, even though a little annoyance would be completely justified. “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t call the police?”
“It was an honest mistake. You have to admit, you’re a scary-looking dude, Sam Delgado. It must be the ink.”
“I’m a pussycat when you get to know me.”
“I doubt that.”
“Just wait.”
She knew perfectly well the words shouldn’t send this little tingle of awareness zinging through her.
At least he was being decent about her almost beaning him with a board. She had to give him points for that. “I wasn’t expecting you until the weekend. Brodie said you couldn’t start until then.”
“I wrapped up some other projects in Denver ahead of schedule and was able to break away a few days early. Figured I would come to town and do a little recon of the situation before my crew comes up tomorrow.”
The way he spoke, the short haircut and what she glimpsed of his tattoo—which she could now see looked vaguely military-like—reminded her that Brodie had told her the guy was ex-army Special Forces, like Charlotte’s brother, Dylan.
She figured it was safe to move closer to him. “Well, welcome to Hope’s Crossing, Sam Delgado. I can promise you, not everyone in town will greet you with a two-by-four.”
He smelled good, she couldn’t help noticing. Like wind and sunshine and really sexy male. She really was an idiot to even notice.
“I don’t blame you for being cautious. Any woman would have to be a little wary to find a stranger invading her space. No harm done.” He set the reciprocating saw down on the floor and the belt with it.
“Brodie tells me you have definite ideas for your kitchen. I’m glad you’re here, actually, so we can go over what you want. Care to fill me in?”
“Now?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
She could think of several reasons, beginning with her heart rate, which still hadn’t quite settled back down to normal. “Um, sure. Come on through to where the kitchen should be and we can talk.”
“Let me grab your plans,” he said, pointing to the back door.
When he returned, he unrolled the blueprints and she spent the next few moments detailing what she wanted in the kitchen, and the design she and Brodie had already come up with. Much to her delight, Sam had a few suggestions that would actually improve the work flow and traffic patterns.
“Are you sure you can bring us in with only a month before our projected opening?” she asked.
“It will be a push, I’m not going to lie to you, but my guys are up to the challenge. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I didn’t think we could do it.”
“I admire confidence in a man,” she said. That wasn’t the only thing she was admiring about Sam Delgado, but she ordered herself to settle down. For all she knew, he might indeed have a storage unit full of severed heads.
On the other hand, Brodie trusted him, and that carried a great deal of weight, as far as she was concerned. He wouldn’t have brought Sam in on the project unless he had vetted him fully.
Even if Brodie weren’t giving her this unbelievable chance at her own restaurant, he was also the husband and son of two of her dearest friends.
What was wrong with a little harmless flirtation? In fact, Sam Delgado might just be the cure to the restlessness her mother was talking about. She hadn’t dated anybody in months, not since Oliver, the very funny Swiss ski instructor who had returned to the Alps midseason.
Sam was actually just her type—big, gorgeous and only in town for a few weeks. He would be leaving Hope’s Crossing as soon as he wrapped up work on the restaurant. Why couldn’t she spend some enjoyable leisure time with him while he was here, as long as he still had plenty of time to finish the project?
“Looks clear enough,” Sam said, rolling up the blueprints he had pulled out of his pickup truck. “Since all the appliances and shelving and counters are already here, it’s only a matter of putting everything in place. You should still be able to have your mid-May opening.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Delgado,” she said.
“Once my crew comes tomorrow, we can dig in.”
“How many guys will you have?”
“Three others, besides me. We’ve all worked together a long time.”
“Does everybody have a place to stay?”
“Brodie has made reservations at a hotel on the edge of town. Nothing fancy but it will do for now.”
“Good. Good.” She smiled. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“I’ll do that.”
It was now or never, she thought, and plunged forward. “So I don’t see a ring. Is there a Mrs. Delgado?”
Plenty of men didn’t care to wear a wedding ring, either out of personal preference or deliberate obfuscation. When she was interested in a man, she was scrupulously careful about double-checking that particular point.
Some hard-earned lessons tended to stick with a woman.
Sam Delgado blinked, obviously a little bemused by the question. If she hadn’t been watching him carefully for some sign of deceit, she might have missed the tangle of emotion in his gaze.
“As a matter of fact, there is. My brother’s wife.”
“But you don’t have one of your own?” she pressed.
“Not currently.”
His guarded reaction didn’t seem particularly encouraging. He could be engaged—another hot button of hers because of family history—but she hadn’t missed that sadness in his eyes and sensed he was telling the truth.
“Do you anticipate that changing anytime in the near future?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no. Why are you so curious?”
She shrugged. “Personal rule. I don’t date men who are married, engaged or otherwise involved in a long-term relationship.”
A corner of his mouth danced up. “I didn’t realize we were planning on dating.”
“Planning on it? No. But if the opportunity arose, I like to be certain ahead of time that both parties are...unentangled. Poachers bug the hell out of me. And men who allow themselves to be poached are even worse.”
He gazed at her for a long moment as if he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “You don’t have any problem speaking your mind, Ms. McKnight, do you?”
“Please. Call me Alex. Especially considering we might be planning on dating at some point in the foreseeable future.”
He laughed as he shook his head. “Here’s something you should know about me then. Call me old-fashioned, but I like to be in the driver’s seat in these sorts of things.”
She gave him a sultry smile over her shoulder. “Oh, you foolish, foolish man. You might think you’re behind the wheel when it comes to most women, but that’s only because we’ve decided to hand over the keys.”
He chuckled that rough, sexy laugh that sent shivers down her spine again. “I don’t know what sort of p—er, pansies—you traditionally date, Alex McKnight, but I’m a former Army Ranger. Know what our motto is? Rangers lead the way. And we don’t just mean into enemy territory.”
She hadn’t been this attracted to a man in ages. She generally didn’t go further than second base with the guys she dated, but something about Sam Delgado made her suspect he was just the sort of guy to tempt her into changing her mind.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I guess I’ll see you around, then.”
She gave him a smile and a wave, tucking a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear as she picked up the basket of picnic supplies and headed for the door.
“Wait a minute,” he called out. “You can’t just leave. We were having a conversation here.”
Was that what he called it? She smiled. “I thought we were done.”
“What time am I picking you up tomorrow night?”
Oh, she really, really liked a man who took the initiative.
“I’m working tomorrow night until nine.”
“Perfect. I’ll probably be busy here until late and will need to unwind a little before I head to the hotel.”
“Do you play pool, Army Ranger Delgado?”
“I’ve been known to chalk a few cues in my time.”
“Great. Why don’t I meet you at The Speckled Lizard? It’s on Front Street, two blocks west of the center block of Main Street. It’s one of the few places that stays open late on a Thursday night during the off-season.”
“I’ll see you then. Tomorrow, twenty-two hundred, Speckled Lizard. It’s a date.”
She smiled and headed out the door, anticipation winging through her.
All in all, she was very glad she hadn’t hit him with a two-by-four.
CHAPTER TWO
SAM WATCHED BRODIE’S CHEF walk down the hill toward town swinging a picnic basket at her side, her blond curls bouncing behind her as she walked.
His heartbeat was still racing and he didn’t know what the hell just happened there. Right now, he felt as if he’d just spent the past thirty minutes tumbling around in a cement mixer.
This surge of adrenaline and anticipation and life churning inside him was unfamiliar, uncharted territory.
When he walked into this old firehouse, he certainly never expected to stumble across a woman like her, brash, funny, brimming with energy.
What was it about her? She was beautiful, yes, with those huge green eyes and the endless spill of hair, but he knew plenty of beautiful women.
Though he continued to insist it wasn’t necessary, Nicky’s wife, Cheri, was always trying to hook him up with some friend of hers or other. For a stay-at-home mother, his sister-in-law seemed to know an unusually large number of lovely women, many from her previous job as a public-relations executive.
While he might have been attracted to a few of those women Cheri had found for him, none of them had ignited these wild sparks that still snapped and buzzed through him, even after Alex McKnight had turned down a side street and disappeared from view.
He would have to tread carefully here. The situation had the potential to spawn a whole morass of complications.
For the next month, he would have to work closely with her on the Brazen project. She was the chef, after all. Not only that, he knew from conversations with Brodie that Alex was good friends with Brodie’s wife, Evie.
His whole life hinged on making a success of this project, on finishing the work on budget and on time and on doing a good enough job that Brodie would continue to contract with him and would recommend him to his friends around Hope’s Crossing.
Sam couldn’t afford to screw things up.
He looked at the scene below him, the neatly quaint downtown with its wide streets and graceful old historic buildings, the rows of established clapboard houses mingling with higher-end log homes.
Colorful spring blooms already burst out in patches, and the trees leading down the street had new pale green buds on them. He could imagine the place would be spectacular in the summer, with those raw, rugged mountains looming as a backdrop.
He breathed in the high mountain air. It seemed sweeter here, though he knew that was probably just the abundance of pine and fir trees around, sending out their citrusy fragrance.
This was the new start he wanted, that he needed, and he couldn’t afford to screw up his chances of making a life here.
