Название | Aaron Under Construction |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Marin Thomas |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon American Romance |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474021210 |
Probably a female.
He checked twice to make sure the gate latch had caught, then returned to Mrs. Benitos’s house. He didn’t notice the crew gawking at him until he stepped onto the curb. Feeling self-conscious, he gestured toward the pastry boxes. “I brought doughnuts.”
No one moved. Aaron wondered what the heck he was going to do with seventy-two—he glanced over his shoulder—make that seventy doughnuts. Then he spotted Jennifer digging through one of the boxes. She smiled and called, “Gracias.”
Following the boss lady’s lead, Juan and the others headed for the pastries. Aaron hung back until the crew had helped themselves, then he lifted the lid of the first box—empty. The next box—wiped clean. And the next…and the next…and the next! Well, hell. Disgusted, he glared at the house across the street, hoping the old ninny had enjoyed his breakfast.
Time to check in with the boss. As soon as he entered the house, Jennifer flashed him a wide, beautiful smile. “That was sweet of you to take Mrs. Padrón a doughnut.”
Sweet? No man wanted a woman, especially a beautiful woman, to think of him as sweet. “No biggie.”
She grasped his forearm and a shiver raced along his skin. “It is a big deal. Mrs. Padrón is lonely. Her husband died several years ago and she never had any children. Giving her that doughnut was the nicest thing anyone’s done for her in a long while.”
Somehow he doubted that. He suspected that Jennifer checked up on the old lady often. Once again, he admired her compassion and the way she cared deeply for the people in the barrio.
“I’m sorry to hear Mrs. Padrón is all alone.” And he really meant it. Before today, he hadn’t thought much about old people, except his grandfather, of course. The idea of a granny alone in the world didn’t seem right.
As Jennifer discussed the day’s schedule, he lost track of the conversation. He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. The barest hint of strawberry-colored gloss covered her lips, making them wet and full.
“Hey, boss,” Juan shouted from the doorway.
Both he and Jennifer jumped at the interruption. He wondered if Juan had noticed the way Aaron had been devouring Jennifer with his eyes.
“Smith will help you and Pedro install the gutters today.” Jennifer’s breathy voice convinced Aaron that she, too, had felt the zip of attraction that had passed between them a moment ago.
Grumbling, Juan insisted, “Let’s go, anglo.”
“Jennifer, I—”
She raised her hand. “Not a word, Smith. Not a word.”
Smith? The way she said his name made him sound like a chump. Hardly the image he aspired to. “What’s up with Juan?”
“He’s never in a good mood on Saturdays.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he asked, “Why’s that?”
“His kids play in a soccer league and he hates missing their games.”
Aaron and his brothers had played Little League baseball for a few years, but his grandfather had never attended a game. Nothing unusual about that—Pop had been a busy man. As an adult reflecting on his childhood, Aaron decided he would have enjoyed waving to his grandfather in the stands after a base hit or a home run. “Tell Juan to go to his kids’ game. I’ll work late today.”
“You don’t have plans?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, I’ll let Juan know you’ll take over for him.” She slipped out the door, the herbal smell of her shampoo lingering in her wake.
Once Aaron had his body under control, he followed her outside. She spoke with Juan near the big tree, gesturing with her hands. The constant aura of energy that surrounded her tugged at Aaron, making him yearn to spend more time with her alone—just the two of them.
Juan disappeared with Pedro to the backyard and Jennifer strode toward Aaron. “Juan appreciates that you volunteered to cover for him.”
“No problem.”
Smiling, she tossed a pair of men’s work gloves at him. “Wear these at all times when you handle the gutters.”
“Thanks.”
“The boss asked me to drive into the office this morning.” She worried her lower lip and Aaron hoped something bad hadn’t happened. “I should be back by noon.” She walked a few steps away, then stopped and faced him. “Be careful. No injuries today.”
Feeling like a five-year-old who’d been warned to stop climbing the school flagpole, he watched Jennifer hop into her truck and drive off. In regards to construction work, he might be inexperienced, but he did other things well. If he wanted to prove he was no little boy, he should take Jennifer to bed.
Now, there was a place he’d never been accused of being inexperienced.
AT NOON Jennifer drove up to Mrs. Benitos’s house, then sat in the truck and observed the crew. Pedro walked around the corner of the porch, conversing with two buddies. Aaron followed a few steps behind—still the odd man out. To the casual observer, he appeared unaffected by his second-class status. But she understood better. His shoulders were a bit too stiff, his chin a bit too high. And he never made eye contact with any of the men.
A twinge of sympathy gripped her. Clearly, Aaron wished for his coworkers’ acceptance. But why? Why would the respect of a group of Latino men he’d never come in contact with again after this job matter to him?
Not that it was her concern anymore. After spending the morning hours with her boss, she was having a difficult time coming to grips with the sudden turn of events. As of this moment, the entire crew, including her, was unemployed.
The possibility of never working with Aaron again bothered Jennifer more than she cared to admit. After a week, he still remained a mystery—except for his character. Any doubts about his goodness had been laid to rest earlier in the morning when he’d subjected his ankles to Mrs. Padrón’s poodle in order to deliver a doughnut to her.
Aaron captivated Jennifer. It had been a long time—nine years—since any man had made her feel again. He almost convinced her to stop paying penance for a mistake she’d committed long ago and reach for the happiness she didn’t deserve.
Startled, she gasped when the man of her musings poked his head through the open truck window and grinned. “You planning on sitting in there all day?”
His face was mere inches from her own, and if she leaned forward…She flattened her shoulders against the seatback and breathed deeply. The combination of manly sweat and designer cologne wafted under her nose, the scent surprisingly arousing. Aaron was the first man she’d worked with who bothered to splash on cologne before pounding nails all day. He opened her door and she stepped out.
The guy had it all. Smelled great. Handsome. Even-tempered, kindhearted and mannerly. Aaron Smith—a genetic defect of the male species.
“How’s the gutter work progressing?” Like it matters at this point?
“Juan left a few minutes ago after we finished the back of the house. Pedro and I should be able to handle the front by ourselves.” He escorted her up the walk. “Might even finish today.”
She stopped near the porch. “Would you mind breaking for a few minutes while I speak with the crew?” If he sensed anything amiss, he kept it to himself as he walked to his cooler under the lemon tree. She entered the house and asked the men to join her outside on the lawn.
Although painful, she made eye contact with each worker as she explained the situation. When the last man drove off, she joined Aaron under the tree.
“Bearer of bad news?”
“You could say that.” She waited while he rummaged