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“Sure.” It was the answer she was supposed to give, but privately she wondered if they’d end up sneaking off to have sex in the woods, which would seriously impact the schedule.
“If you have any doubts, we can still call Gerald. He’s not as good a carpenter as you are, but—”
“You won’t have to do that. Damon and I will be fine.” She flinched at the idea of Gerald taking over. He was a nice enough guy, but he was sloppy. He didn’t charge the hourly rate she did, but given his lack of expertise, he shouldn’t.
Damon would hate working with Gerald. The job would end up taking longer because Damon would have to fix whatever Gerald screwed up. Phil’s work would pass muster, assuming she could keep her mind on it.
She would keep her mind on it. The project was too important to allow an inconvenient case of lust to interfere. And speaking of lust-inducing men, here he came.
Even his walk was sexy, the rat. He’d managed to locate an old straw cowboy hat, and if he’d been irresistible before, now he was deadly.
“I see you found your hat,” Cade said.
“Picked it up when I went down to the barn to pay a social call on my old pal Ringo.” He climbed up on the porch and grabbed a beer from the cooler. “That’s some cat you have, Gallagher. He remembered me.”
Phil didn’t doubt it. Who wouldn’t remember this guy?
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Cade sipped his beer. “He remembers anybody who brings him kitty treats.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have them with me. They’re still in my duffel.” Damon twisted off the cap and took a swig of his beer. “He came right over.”
“So he gave you the benefit of the doubt this time. Keep showing up without treats and see what happens.”
“He’s my buddy. He’d come to see me.” Damon glanced at the Adirondack chair next to Phil. His gray eyes sparkled. “Excuse me, ma’am. Is this seat taken?”
“Be my guest.” Oh, yes, he was charming, and she was more of a sucker for his brand of charm than she’d ever imagined.
“We never drank that toast to Cabin Number Four,” Rosie said. “We should do it now.”
“Absolutely.” Damon raised his bottle. “To Cabin Number Four and the success of Thunder Mountain Academy.”
“Hear, hear!” Herb lifted his bottle, and everyone else on the porch did the same.
After they’d all taken a drink, Damon leaned forward so he could see around Phil. “Catch me up on what’s been going on. Cade said the contributions weren’t coming in as fast as we need them to.”
“They’ll pick up,” Herb said. “It’s only July, and we have until September first to raise the money.”
Phil had only recently learned how crowdfunding worked. “It still doesn’t seem fair to me that you either meet the goal or all the money goes back to the contributors. Isn’t there any wiggle room on that?”
“Not really.” Rosie was looking much better these days. The color had returned to her face, and she’d resumed her regular trips to the beauty salon to have her silver roots tinted their original blond. “That’s the way we set it up. A flexible deadline makes us look as if we’re not sure the project will succeed. It’s better if you state the amount you need and you either get it and the project is funded, or you don’t and the money’s all returned.”
“There’s a risk factor.” Herb looked at Phil. “But that’s true of anything. You took a risk moving here from Cheyenne to open Phil’s Home Repair.”
“I guess so.” But if she’d failed, no one else would have suffered. If the Kickstarter program for Thunder Mountain Academy failed, the ranch would be sold. Herb and Rosie would lose the place they loved, and so would all the foster boys who had been sheltered here.
“It’s going to work,” Damon said. “I feel it in my bones. We have so many elements to offer kids who are considering a career with horses—equine vet experience from Dad, a riding program designed by Lexi, saddle making taught by Molly’s husband, Ben, and horse training taught by our favorite singing cowboy.”
“Don’t make fun,” Cade said.
“I’m not! Rosie said you tamed that black gelding of yours by singing to him.” Damon turned to Phil. “Did you hear about that?”
“I did.”
Cade sipped his beer. “It makes a good story, but it wasn’t quite that simple.”
“Maybe not, but I couldn’t have done it.” Damon glanced over at Phil again. “See, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. If I tried singing to a horse he’d likely buck me off and then trample me to shut me up.”
She laughed. “I doubt it’s that bad.”
“No, he’s right,” Cade said. “He’s terrible. But lucky for you, bro, Hematite is gentle enough now that you can ride him without singing.”
“You’ll let me ride him?”
“I will if you’re nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
Of course he had to say it in that low, sexy voice of his. Phil resisted the urge to fan herself. He might not be a good singer, but she had no trouble imagining that husky voice murmuring to her as they made long, slow love in her refinished sleigh bed. Oh, he’d be nice, all right. Very nice.
And for once, she wouldn’t have to worry about a man being intimidated by the evidence of her construction skills. Damon might appreciate the effort she’d put into her home. She’d have fun showing it off to someone who understood how many hours she’d spent on it.
But in order to do that, she’d have to invite him there. And she knew as sure as her name was Philomena Hermione Turner that once she had that man in her house, she would eventually have him in her bed. So before she issued her invitation, she’d better be damned sure that was what she wanted.
3 (#u6998fab3-bb41-5d03-b5cb-3ee8bfbcd3a2)
THROUGHOUT HAPPY HOUR and dinner, Damon’s mind ran laps like a hamster on a wheel. He’d never had a problem like this. Because he flipped houses and operated alone, he’d never had to worry about mixing business with pleasure.
But here was Philomena Turner with her incredible blue eyes, sexy mouth and lithe body. She was in great shape because she worked her muscles hard just like he did. Now that he was over the shock, knowing that they had essentially the same job might be the most intriguing thing about her.
He envisioned what she’d look like all flushed and sweaty after a day spent using power tools in the heat of a Wyoming summer. Then he stopped thinking about it before he embarrassed himself by getting a woody. If she’d shut him down and made it clear she wasn’t interested, that would have helped. He’d never believed in chasing women who played hard to get.
Instead she’d traded smoldering looks with him in the meadow, and during dinner he’d caught her glancing his way several times. He had no trouble interpreting what those glances meant. She was considering having sex with him. To make matters worse, he was considering having sex with her, too.
That was probably a really bad idea. He had a hunch that Rosie had intended this all along. She’d put them next to each other at dinner around the cozy kitchen table and had kept tabs on them throughout the meal. She was convinced her boys should all settle down with nice women.
She’d be overjoyed if he became seriously involved with Phil, but he’d earn a bunch of demerits if they only had a casual fling. So the best solution to this mess would be finding someone else to help him build the cabin.
Cade was available, but he’d never shown the slightest interest or aptitude for construction. By the time the second and third cabins had gone up, Damon had been working alongside the adults and loving every minute. Cade had smashed his thumb with a hammer and sliced his arm with a handsaw before he’d finally been sent off to groom the horses, instead.
Too bad the old guy who had helped construct all three cabins wasn’t available, but he’d retired long ago. There had to be somebody else in town who would work cheap, though. He’d better have a heart-to-heart with Phil, explain the problem and get her to recommend someone.
He’d talk to her after dinner. They all had coffee and were finishing generous servings of apple pie à la mode—Rosie had made Damon’s favorite dessert and he’d thanked her for it. She really did love him, just like Phil had said.
Rosie also might think she knew what would make him happy. He’d learned that people tended to want for others what they’d always wanted for themselves, without taking differences into account. Maybe during this trip he’d find a private moment to explain to Rosie why flipping houses suited his personality while marriage and a permanent home did not.
When the meal was over, he got up and started clearing the table the way he always had. Rosie understood that about him, at least, and had never tried to talk him out of helping. She’d taught the other boys to pitch in during kitchen duty, but Damon had done it without being told.
Clutter bothered him, but dirty dishes drove him nuts. He didn’t have to worry about that with this group, though. With everyone helping, the dishwasher was loaded and the table wiped down in minutes.
“I have a case of Baileys in the pantry if anyone wants more coffee with a little kick to it,” Rosie said.
Damon exchanged a grin with Cade. The two of them had bought her the booze when she’d been laid up in the hospital. She’d forbidden anyone to bring her flowers because that would imply she was seriously ill. So instead they’d delivered a case of Baileys to her hospital room. She’d gotten the message—she’d have to live a long time in order to drink it all.
“Thanks for the offer,” Phil said, “but I should probably head on home.”
That was his cue. “Before you leave, could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” She walked over to him as if she expected him to blurt it out right here in the kitchen, in front of everybody.
“Let’s go outside.”
She blinked. “All right.”
He was aware of Rosie’s little smile and Cade’s lifted eyebrows. Ignoring their reaction, he ushered Phil out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door. Let them think what they liked. He was taking steps to end this potentially explosive situation.
She stopped on the porch. “Okay, we’re outside. What is it?”
“Let’s take a walk down to the barn.”
“Why?”
“Look, I’m not going to jump you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Not that it hadn’t crossed his mind, but he was a more disciplined man than that.
She smiled. “I doubt that’s your style. I picture you getting a woman alone and then charming her until she jumps you.”
“That’s not my plan, either.” Damn, but she looked good with the porch light gleaming on her red hair. “Believe it or not, I have something important to discuss, and I don’t want to do it where someone might come out and interrupt what I have to say.”
“Everyone in the kitchen thinks something is going on between us.”
“Well, it’s not, and if I have anything to say about it, it won’t.”
“Oh, really? When did you—”
“Let’s walk. We can go see Ringo.” He gestured toward the porch steps, and to his relief, she started down them.
“I’ve met Ringo a couple of times. He really is a great cat.”
“And a smart cat, too. He stowed away in the truck when Cade left Colorado to drive up here. He knew who to hook up with for a better life.”
“Cade’s a good guy. I wasn’t sure I’d like him after hearing how he’d run out on Lexi, but now that he’s back it looks like they’re resolving that situation.”
“I hope so. Those two belong together.”
“Seems like it.” She stopped and turned to him. “Okay, nobody can hear us unless we start shouting. Do you really want to pay Ringo a visit or can we just settle whatever’s bugging you right here?”
“I guess we can talk here.” He reached for his hat to tug the brim down, but he’d left it in the living room. Instead he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and that was where they were going to stay. “We need to find you a replacement.”
“Is that right?” She tucked her hands in her hip pockets and rocked back on her heels to look at him. The gesture emphasized the swell of her breasts under her blue shirt. “And may I ask why?”
“You don’t know?” Even now, with his plan foremost in his mind, he wanted to grab her and find out what that tempting mouth of hers tasted like.
“Not for sure. Spell it out for me.”
“I’ve tried to imagine us working together, and it always turns out the same way in my mind.”
“Which is?” A couple of dusk-to-dawn lights kept the inky darkness at bay, but didn’t make the area bright enough to see faces clearly.
That was just as well, in his estimation. He didn’t need to look into her eyes and discover they were hot with desire. “We end up having sex.”
“You could be right.”
He couldn’t see it in her eyes, but he sure as hell heard it in her voice. His fingers curled inside his pockets, and his groin tightened. In any other scenario, he’d haul her into his arms and the game would be on. “We can’t do that.”
“I can’t speak for you, but I’m fully capable of doing that.”
He blew out an impatient breath. “I didn’t mean we can’t, like we aren’t physically able.” He was so physically able. More so with every passing second. “I mean it wouldn’t be good.”
She chuckled.
“I didn’t mean that, either, damn it! Let me just say this. Rosie set us up.”
“I figured.”
“So we agree on that. Good. The thing is, in Rosie’s world, people fall in love and get married. If she figures out we’re seeing each other, then that’s what she’ll expect, but that’s not what I’m prepared to deliver, so the best plan is to find your replacement.”
“Whoa there, cowboy. Back up the forklift. How did we get from I’m not marriage material to you have to be replaced? I think you missed a few key points in the middle.”
He thought through what he’d said. She was right that he’d skipped over the embarrassing part, which was that he didn’t trust himself to work with her, especially knowing that she’d be fine with getting horizontal. “I don’t...” He paused to scrub a hand over his face. “I don’t think I can resist you.”
She didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?”
“Oh, yes, I heard you. I’m just savoring that last comment. I may have aroused uncontrollable lust in a man before, but he’s never admitted it. I’m having a Cleopatra moment, a Helen of Troy moment, a Marilyn Monroe moment, a—”
“Okay, okay. Let’s get back to the heart of the matter. Who can we call in to take over for you?”
“Nobody.”
“Oh, come on, Phil. There has to be some guy who won’t charge a fortune and can do the job.”
“Not really. We need to be familiar with his or her work, because we can’t be bringing some unknown person in on this deal. It’s too important. That leaves the guy who built the original cabins and is now retired, you, me and Gerald Stiffle.”
Damon groaned. “Stiffle would be a disaster. He was incompetent when I left, and I doubt he’s turned into a master builder since I’ve been gone.”
“He hasn’t. I told Rosie he wasn’t an option when she asked whether you and I could get along and accomplish the job. She was ready to take him on if necessary.”
Damon watched his options disappear. “I can’t work with Stiffle. I’d have to go behind him and check everything he did. He’s okay for changing washers on faucets and junk like that, but even then, I’d worry.”
