“Yeah.” He hooked a thumb toward the truck. “Sorry, I didn’t have a chance to properly introduce you. Zina, meet Jordan, Frankie, Izzy, Dolly, and Gramps.”
The older man stuck his arm out of the passenger window and waved. “Mortimer Sanders, but you can call me Morty.”
I nodded. “Nice to meet you all.”
Alex glanced from his grandfather back to me. “Will I see you around the warehouse tomorrow? The contractor’s coming back to take some measurements and start putting together a plan for the temporary habitat.”
“Where else would I be? Thanks to Lacey I’m running point on the Munyon wedding and thanks to you, all of my dogs are living there right now.”
Alex shook his head and then let it drop. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me very much?”
“What?” I wasn’t used to being the recipient of such direct questions. At least not since I’d come back to Ido. The military was full of people who didn’t bother pussyfooting around, but since I’d moved back, I’d been subject to the passive aggressiveness of well-meaning small-town residents. The sheer directness of his question made me do a double take. “What gives you that impression?”
“Gut instinct.”
My gaze traveled to his lean midsection. He was probably hiding a six-pack underneath his thermal shirt. Maybe even a twelve-pack. For a split second I wondered just how firm his abs would feel under my palms. Their brief kiss earlier hadn’t given me enough time to find out. Suddenly, hot prickles flooded my cheeks.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t like you.” I plastered a practiced look of sheer indifference on my face. “I barely know you. I’m just looking out for Lacey, and I don’t want her to get burned.”
“You don’t think I’m legit?” He cocked a brow. Probably a look he’d used all his life. The kind of look that made women’s panties melt and bras fall off and led to hours of sweaty aerobic activity that ended with another notch in his bedpost.
I squashed down the immediate attraction and focused my thoughts on Lacey. Trusting, naive Lacey, who believed everyone had a vested interest in seeing her plan succeed. But I knew that most people only wanted to participate in someone else’s success as long as they benefited as well. And that’s why I was leery of Alex Sanders.
“I need to go and you obviously have more important things to do than stand here and try to convince me of your honorable intentions.” I turned to walk the last few feet to my truck.
Alex reached for my arm. Heat radiated from his touch, even through the sleeve of my shirt. I looked at his fingers wrapping around my forearm.
He immediately released his grip. “Sorry. I just want you to know that I’m not looking to mess with Lacey. This offer was too good to pass over. I’ll be around long enough to get through the wedding, then I’ll head out. In fact, I just heard about a job at a resort down in Ecuador that sounds promising.”
“Mm-hmm.” I scowled as I reached for the handle of my door.
“You’ll see.” Alex gave me another grin, a toned-down version of his last smile.
I’d see. That’s the one thing I knew for sure. I’d see because I’d be watching him like a freaking hawk.
“Uncle Alex, we still have to finish my project you ruined.” One of the girls stuck her head out of the window.
“You don’t happen to know where I can get a piece of poster board, do you?” His shoulders slumped. “I accidentally used Izzy’s project as a dustpan. Her mom’s at work until late, and if she doesn’t get her project turned in tomorrow, she gets an orange tag.”
“A red tag, Uncle Alex. There’s no such thing as an orange tag at my school.”
“See?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t even keep my colors straight.”
Against my better judgment, I let down my guard. “What does she have to do?”
“Draw the life cycle of a couple of things. A butterfly, and maybe a tree.” He shifted his keys from one hand to the other. “We’ll figure it out.”
I glanced toward the passenger seat of my truck, where Zeb sat adjusting his earbuds. “You know what? Zeb is an excellent artist. I could ask him if he’s willing to help.”
“Really?” Alex’s eyes sparkled. “You sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”
I should have made up an excuse. No good would come of spending more time with him. He’d just admitted he was only sticking around through the wedding. It wouldn’t make sense to put myself out there or let myself get attached. But instead of retracting the offer, I matched his smile.
“Sure, let me ask him.”
“How did you learn how to draw?” Izzy sat next to Zeb at Char’s kitchen table, trying to copy the swift, sure strokes of his pencil as he sketched out a very detailed monarch butterfly.
“I taught myself. Lots of practice.” Zeb’s forehead furrowed in concentration.
