He blinks a few times before answering. “You probably shouldn’t admit that when you’re interviewing contractors. If you hire the wrong guy, he’ll try to take advantage of you.”
Shit. He’s got me there. I narrow my eyes. “Are you the wrong guy?”
“Nope, I’m honest to a fault,” he replies, then his eyes fill with laughter. “But then again, if I were the type to take advantage, I’d have lied to you just then anyway.”
I purse my lips together and look at Peter. “So my options truly are limited to Mr. Mind Games here or the Millhouse boys who have gone fishin’? There’s literally no one else?”
“Afraid so, love,” Peter answers. “He may be a bit of an arse, but at least he’s an honest one, and he does good work.”
“I should have that printed on a business card,” Liam says, holding his mug out for a refill of coffee. "Liam Wright, Honest Arse. Does Good Work."
“And how long is lobster season?” I ask Peter.
“Until mid-July, but the Millhouse boys head up to P.E.I. to keep going until October,” he answers as he tops up both our coffees.
Liam takes a sip, then smacks his lips together. “Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”
“It would appear so.” I give him a long stare. “Listen, I’m not some rube. If you try to screw me, you won’t like what happens next.”
A wide grin spreads across Liam’s face. “Nicely played. An ambiguous threat intended to create fear of the unknown.”
I laugh again, even though it undermines my attempts at being scary. “Oh, I’ll follow through, believe me.”
“I believe you would, but you won’t have to.”
“Good,” I say, lifting my chin. “We can't get started until the utilities are turned on, but I need to get everything going as soon as possible."
“Oh sure,” Liam says, throwing a grin in Peter’s direction. “I can see why you’d be in a hurry to get out of this place.”
Peter pretends he’s offended. “You believe this guy? Here he is, fueling his insults on my coffee.”
Liam laughs, and it’s a hearty, full sound. He turns to me. “Don’t mind him. He’s sort of a delicate flower.”
Peter fixes him with a glare. “No moreanythingon the house for you.”
Liam winks at me. “Fear not, he’ll forgive me. He’s not only delicate, he’s also kind.”
Ignoring the wink, I say, “I wouldn’t forgive him.”
“I won’t,” Peter says with a mock-scowl.
Liam taps his hand on the bar. “In that case, I best be off to the Harveys’ to earn a few dollars for coffee. I’m finishing up their new deck today.” He pulls his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans, retrieves a card, and sets it on the counter. “There’s my number. Call me when Gus shows up, and I’ll swing by and have a look. Once I have an idea of what needs doing, I’ll get you an estimate.”
He slides off the stool, then holds out his hand. I take it, and we shake once more, his rough palm against mine. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Duckie Pants.”
My mouth drops open, and he says, "It's only fair. You called me Mr. Mind Games."
And with that, he’s gone.
When I turn back to my oatmeal, I can’t help but notice Peter standing in front of me with his arms folded. “He’s a good fellow. The best father I think I’ve seen.”
Father?“How many kids?”
“One little girl. Car accident took his wife and their baby boy. The little tyke was only three months old at the time.” Peter picks up a rag and wipes the counter. It’s spotless, but he does it anyway. “Lovely woman, Sarah was. And that baby. The cheeks on him. A real tragedy if ever there was one.”
“Oh, God, that’s awful. How long ago?” A lump fills my throat.
“Coming up to six years. His daughter was in the car when it happened. She was two. People think she was so young that there’s no way she can remember, but I’ll tell you, she’s never been the same since. She used to be full of giggles and squeals, but now, she seems lost in her own world.”
