And the worst of it all, I somehow knew that Morris and Birdee were involved.
The fucking disgusting excuse for human beings that they were.
“I’ll be seeing you, I guess,” I grumbled as I started to walk out.
As I turned, I face-planted into the hardest chest I’d ever felt before in my life.
“Ooof,” I coughed as hard, unforgiving arms circled my waist. “I’m so sorry.”
I looked up, and up, and up into the most beautiful face I’d ever seen in my life.
The man was tall, that was a given.
But his eyes were the color of butterscotch, and I felt like I was drowning the moment that he looked down into my own baby blues.
“S-sorry,” I stuttered. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
He grunted. “No problem.”
It was then I took in his attire.
Black shirt covered in sawdust. Red flannel shirt that looked like it was well loved. Jeans that were worn not because of style, but because of use. Brown boots that also sported quite a bit of sawdust.
He had thick thighs. Even thicker shoulders. Arms that looked like they could bench press a truck.
Long, flowing black hair that looked like an ad for Pantene.
A well-groomed black beard. Kissable lips. Working man hands.
God, this man was seriously the entire package.
He looked like he didn’t belong in this stupid country club right along with me and my spandex shorts that my mother hated. I had a huge, oversized t-shirt on over black biker shorts. Black New Balance shoes that had creases that drove my mother nuts.
Shoes shouldn’t have creases, Mable.
Truthfully, she wanted me to walk around all day every day in high heels and a modest skirt.
Ain’t nobody got time for that.
Especially not a woman that spent her life literally in the woods playing in the dirt.
Again, another thing that my mother fucking hated.
If she could erase that part of my life from existence, she would.
Women shouldn’t have dirty jobs, Mable.
Whatever.
The best part of my day was sitting in a backhoe digging in the dirt with headphones on playing my romance books.
I stepped back reluctantly from Mr. Literal Tall, Dark and Handsome.
His eyes took me in, starting at my shirt that was hanging off one shoulder, and ending at my slightly dirty shoes.
His lips tipped up, and he walked around me heading for the bar.
He took a seat and jerked his chin up at the bartender for a drink.
