“I love this.” Cam shook his head, eyes glued to the open book. “If only this happened in real life, two girls after the same guy. Insane.”
“Sometimes it happens.”
“Not in my life.”
“If you’d spend less time reading about it and get out there, maybe—”
“Nu-uh.” Cam’s eyes came up to hers. “I’m telling you, this is the plot line of fantasy.”
“Guy’s fantasy, maybe.”
“So if two guys wanted you, you wouldn’t be into it?”
“I might be flattered, but I’d probably feel suffocated more than anything else.”
“Why suffocated? Enjoy the bounty!” Cam’s expression held disbelief. “The love triangle is one of the greatest mathematical configurations God created.”
Mandy smiled. “Romance glamorizes everything from kidnappings to love triangles, Cam, you know that.
In real life, one person in the triangle hauls off and shoots the competition between the eyes with a sawed-off shotgun.”
“Only in extreme cases where psychos are involved.” Cam nodded in agreement. “Most of the time it’s just people like you and me and the worst thing that happens is an intense fight or, even better, some really hot moments where women’s fangs come out.” Cam returned to his book.
Mandy frowned. Her mind flashed the scene of earlier, when she’d been in the middle of A.J. and Boston, feeling like a swarm of bees had been let loose.
“So,” she began, “How do you know?”
Cam didn’t bother looking up, his eyes greedily ate the page in front of him. Mandy extended her leg and tapped her shoe to his, bringing his head up. “What?”
“How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“If there’s a triangle.”
“For this guy,” he pointed to the book, “it’s easy.
He’s the best tango dancer in the world, he can have any woman he wants, and he pretty much dances in and out of the life of every hot babe he can find. Until he meets Sophie. She’s different, and doesn’t fall for his smooth moves.”
Mandy rolled her eyes. “How original.”
“Anyway,” Cam continued. “He starts to fall for her but then an old dancer from his past comes back into his life and wants him. By this time, Sophie’s gotten to see the real him, that he’s not just a pro tango dancer. She fights to keep him and Francesca fights to take him away.”
“Thank you for explaining the plot line,” Mandy said, flatly.
Cam’s green eyes sparked. “Classic triangle. Why?
You in a triangle?”
Mandy lifted a shoulder, feeling stupid that her thoughts even drifted into something so ridiculous. Cam slapped the book closed and leaned close. “That guy last night, right? Bermuda or Baltimore or whatever his name was.”
“Boston.”
“I knew it.” Cam sat back with a satisfied nod.
“How did you know it? I don’t even know it for sure.”
“It was in his eyes and in the air around us. Man, the minute I walked up he was sizing me up like he wanted to take me out back for a duel.”
“K, now you’ve been reading too many romance books.” But a delicious shiver ran down Mandy’s spine.
“And he was not sizing you up.”
“Yes he was.”
“Why are you saying this now?”
“What was I gonna say, ‘Nice to meet you, but sheathe your sword, dude.’”
Mandy scoffed. “I told you, he got burned bad. He’s on sabbatical from women.”
“That’ll last about one day, trust me.”
“You don’t know him, he’s the iceman. There’s no way anybody’s gonna melt through him.”
Cam’s eyes glittered. “You like him, don’t you?”
This is where their friendship helped. Mandy could talk to Cam about anything. She tilted her head, an impossibly wide grin on her face gave away her heart.
“Yeah, he’s interesting.”
“So go for it.”
“I told you, he’s—”
“And I told you that’s an overdone cliché.”
“But the bet—”
“What bet?”
“Everybody on the team has placed wagers on how long he can stay womanless. We each put twenty-five bucks in the pot and picked a date we think he will…until he…he…”
“Falls?”
“That sounds so sinful, but yeah, basically.”
“So how many days did you give him?”
When she only lifted a shoulder, he playfully slugged her. “Okay, don’t tell me. But if you want him, take him.
I’m telling you, he wants you too. I can tell. Nothing is cooler to a guy than a woman who knows what she wants and takes it. Takes. Man, would I love to be taken.”
Mandy rolled her eyes. “This stuff you’re reading is getting to your head.” She took a deep breath. His suggestion that Boston was interested was more thrilling than anything that had happened to her in a while, even surpassing getting her first construction job. The truth surprised her.
“Who else is in the triangle?” Cam picked up his book again, opened it, but looked her in the eye.
“There’s another guy that works on the team. He’s really nice. Totally fun. Older. Late twenties.”
“Perfect.”
“What’s perfect about it?”
“He’s older, more experienced, more male if you will.
Man,” he shut his book, “this is cool. Do you know how lucky you are?”
“I’m not sure this is luck. It’s circumstance.”
“Freaking fantasy is what it is. Do you like him?”
“I like him, yeah. But not the same way I like Boston.”
“But he likes you?”
“I don’t know.” Mandy chewed her lower lip.
“He’s always really teasey with me. We have a lot of fun together and he’s easy to talk to. But today, he and I were working and I…I…” It was vain to imply such a ridiculous notion, Mandy wasn’t sure she could.
“You were working, and…” Cam urged.
“When work was over, I asked A.J. – that’s his name
– if he wanted to go grab something to eat. He couldn’t.
Then I asked Boston. He couldn’t either. But the two of them stood there like…I don’t know, it was just weird.”
“Like? Come on, you’re killing me here!” Cam tossed aside his book and drove his hands into his hair. “You’re living this totally rocking fantasy and you’re not basking in it, relishing it, feasting on it.”
“Nothing happened,” Mandy said. “They just looked at each other like they were—”
“Wait, here, listen.” Cam peeled through the book, then held up a finger as he read. “The air sizzled like a million snakes loose on the floor. Octavio—that’s the tango-guy’s name— stood between Sophie and Francesca, looking from the blazing blonde to the ravishing redhead. Two fires danced in the air, the flames reaching, whipping out in a silent, frenzied fight. One way or the other, Octavio was going to get burned.”
Cam closed the book, his electric expression on hers. He leaned close, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Was that what it was like?”
Mandy swallowed a lump. “Kinda, yeah.”
“Oh, man.” Cam fell back into the cushions of the couch, a grin so big on his face it annoyed Mandy.
“Oh, man, what?” she hissed. “It wasn’t cool. I felt weird about it.”
“Then you’re a wuss,” Cam shot. “Boston’s jealous.
P.J., D.C. or whatever his name is, likes you. So use it. Play with it. Go out with P. J. and you’ll melt Boston faster than an ice cube on pavement.”
“I can’t use A.J. That would just be wrong.”
“So what? You said he’s older, right? He’s probably been used and abused before in the name of love. He can take it.”
“This isn’t love.” Mandy wet her lips. A.J. had been burned too and she was sure that flower tatto
o wasn’t his only scar. She shook her head. “Can’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
“Why? Think about it, Mand.” His eyes searched hers.
“Maybe, deep down, you like him too.”
Mandy bit her lower lip. In her mind, she saw A.J.’s twinkling eyes and lazy smile, and a slow heat started somewhere deep inside she couldn’t deny. It wasn’t like the heart-stopping, breathless, weak-kneed reaction Boston created. “A.J. sees me like a kid sister.”
“That’s possible, but it’s also possible he looks at you as this fresh, sweet flavor of the month.”
Mandy’s face twisted. “He’d never think that. He’s a gentleman.”
Cam’s left brow lifted over a wry smile. “Yeah, your typical construction worker.”
“That’s just it, he’s not. Neither is Boston.”
“And that’s why the three of you are gravitating together. Look, Mand, you can rationalize all you want, but here are the facts: day after day you work together in the smoldering heat. You’ve got four alpha males and one innocent female. Mix it all together and you might as well be watching a National Geographic special. It’s about the animal in all of us, and you’re the prize whether you like it or not.”
Mandy’s heart thrummed out of control. Cam gave her a confident nod then picked up his book.
Knowing was one thing, suspecting was something else altogether. Because Mandy didn’t know for sure what was going on between her, Boston and A.J., she wanted to hide. Besides being impossible, the reaction was so lame, she wanted to kick herself.
While the guys got their coffee inside the Haynes main office, she waited out by the truck, a flock of butterflies loose in her stomach. What would work be like today? Without a clue, and no idea how to proceed, she decided professionalism was the only way to handle on-site relationships and that meant being herself: friendly, hard working and focused on the task at hand.
She heard the low rumble of male voices come around the corner of the building but didn’t look over from her perch on the back of the truck. A.J.’s husky laugh sent a tremor through her and she almost stole a peek at the lot of them, but stared out at the main highway instead.
“Hey, there she is,” A.J.’s tone was friendly, and she couldn’t help but turn. They made quite a sight the four of them in their shorts and tee shirts. Builders. Rugged.
Male conquerors. A.J. sauntered along with his Styrofoam cup in hand, steam fingering into the morning air. A step behind him was Boston, hands swinging comfortably at his sides. Marc and Larry were together, both laughing, no doubt about last night’s conquests. She’d heard Marc stumble into the house after two a.m. last night.
“No coffee this morning?” A.J. stopped close enough that his chest nearly touched her knees. He smiled at her over the rim of his cup.
“No. Not this morning.”
Boston caught the distance between her knees and A.J.’s chest, she noticed, and something flashed in his dark eyes.
“Hold this for me, will you, baby doll?” A.J. held out the coffee to Mandy while he hoisted himself up and swung a leg over the back of the truck. Then he held out his hand and she gave him back the cup. “Thanks.”
Mandy glanced at Boston, who’d shoved his hands in his front pockets. The corners of his jaw locked tight.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning.”
“Mand,” Marc announced. “You and Charlie ride up front with me.”
Mandy’s eyes widened. He’d never assigned seats before, what was this all about? Too uncomfortable to ask why or protest, Mandy jumped down, wiped off the seat of her jeans and got in the cab.
She felt trapped by something she couldn’t see, yet driven to flee by another unseen source. The truck shifted as the guys loaded in. She sat still, highly aware of Boston when he slid in next to her. His knee brushed hers, skin on denim. She knew his scent now, and it filled her head, misting her mind.
Marc got in and started the engine. He reached over and flicked off the radio then pulled the truck onto the main road. No radio? Marc? Something was wrong.
Mandy took a deep breath. Her gaze was magnetically drawn to Boston’s tan thighs precariously close to hers. To his arms, his hands resting on his thighs, his long fingers spread. He had a fresh cut on one finger and a splinter of pain jagged through her looking at the wound, thinking about him hurt in any way.
“Ouch.” She reached out and touched the spot.
“You should put antibiotic ointment on that and cover it with a Band-Aid.” She looked up into his eyes, inches away, those deep brown caverns even more enticing up close.
“It’s got one of those liquid, invisible Band-Aids on it.”
Mandy swallowed, nodded. “Oh. Does it hurt?”
He seemed pleased and surprised that she asked.
“No.”
Sweat gathered on the back of her neck. Why didn’t I wear shorts? It was going to be another killer-hot day and she’d cook in her jeans.
“Stop by the house on the way, will you?” she told Marc, breaking the silence.
“Why?”
“We have the time.” She looked at the clock in the car. “There’s something I need to do.”
“What?”
She cocked her head at him. “Something, now do it.”
“Why should I? If you forgot something that’s your problem.”
“Fine, then drop me off at home during lunch.”
Marc steered with one hand, the other rubbed at his jaw. “Is it—you’re not on your—”
“Marc! No.” Mandy’s shrunk in the seat.
“Good. Okay. Cause, that’s like the only reason I’d take you home.”
“Certainly not out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Hey, you’re on work time now. Kindness has nothing to do with it.”
Mandy shot a glance at Boston. He didn’t smile, but silent compassion was on his face.
“So.” Marc sat forward, looking at the two of them.
“You two will work together from here on out.”
Mandy’s brows knit. The confusion on her face had Marc nodding. “That’s right. Charlie’s been on the team for a while now. He can show you anything I can. He knows what to do.”
She scrunched her face at him. What was he doing?
Pushing her at Boston? “Dad prefers it if apprentices rotate. That way they get exposed to a variety.”
“Yeah, I know. But this is my job, and I’m running it my way.”
Mandy started to fume. There was only one reason Marc was pushing her at Boston, and that was the bet.
Why else would he care? She crossed her arms over her chest. “Boston’s a good worker, there’s no doubt about that.” But she wouldn’t dream of compromising his vow to stay as far away from females as possible. “But why not keep to the rotation? You’re not trying to compromise Boston’s vow, are you?”
“What the crap?” Marc sneered but avoided her gaze.
Mandy lifted her chin and smiled. Nothing was more satisfying than beating Marc at his own game.
“I’m the boss here, and you’ll do what I tell you,”
Marc shot.
Mandy ticked her finger back and forth under his nose and shook her head. The gesture infuriated Marc.
“Let’s not lose it here, Marc. It’s just a day job.”
“Just your day job, and you’re gonna lose it if you don’t—”
“It’s okay.” Boston’s sharp tone cut through their bickering, bringing both Mandy and Marc’s attention to him. “Really, it’s okay. I don’t want you losing your job over this.”
“Smart,” Marc nodded. “Listen to him, Mand.”
Mandy studied the determined lines and angles of Boston’s face. “You sure? Because I don’t…I wouldn’t—”
“You won’t.”
Mandy’s heart plummeted. She turned her gaze out to the front window at the long, empty road ahead.
cha
pter seven
If framing was anything, it was repetitive—day after day of measuring, sawing, fitting, nailing. Mandy and Boston continued where Boston had left off. Across the room, A.J. worked solo, whistling every now and then.