“Yes.” Admiration lit her eyes, and son-of-a-bitch, his heart cracked open a little. “I spent the afternoon at the theater, and it didn’t take long to realize you aren’t just a carpenter, Ryder. You’re a craftsman.”
His chest swelled at her unexpected compliment. “Thank you.” Not many people knew the difference.
But, this was Sophia, and even though her eyes were one color, and hair was a traditional color now, she wasn’t most people.
“Between the theater and what I’ve seen of this resort, I just wanted you to know I think your work is amazing,” she said. “And I look forward to working with you on the sets.”
More compliments.
Growing increasingly uncomfortable, he shifted the weight on his feet. If it weren’t for the flash of surprise in her eyes at her admission, he’d think she was fishing for a compliment in return.
She wasn’t getting one. He couldn’t tell her he looked forward to working with her too…because he didn’t. The woman was trouble. And unlike a certain New Year’s Eve many years ago, he wasn’t looking for any.
“I have a few more things to take care of at the resort, so I should get going,” he said. “If you find anything else wrong with the place, let Ethan know.”
By rights, he could’ve told her to let him know, but he needed to keep her at arm’s length. To keep things professional.
Her smile faltered. “Okay. Sure.”
Now, he felt like a dick, because he was one. But it wasn’t just for his own good. It was for hers, too.
Other than work, she didn’t need him in her life. He let people down.
He wasn’t worth it.
“Have a good evening,” he said on his way out the door.
The sooner he left, the better. His chest was already growing heavy with guilt. He didn’t need that crap. He needed to focus on work. Starting with the mound of paperwork on his desk back at the office.
Twenty-five minutes later, Ryder wished he’d just gone home. The pile had taken over the top of his desk.
“Do you want me to order some pizza from Martelli’s?” Cathy, his assistant leaned against his doorway, pity darkening her eyes.
He sat back in his chair and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. Looks like I’m going to be here longer than I thought.”
She nodded, and made to turn away.
“Any news on those bids?”
“No.” She turned around to face him again. “No word yet. And I’m sorry about the Moleski project.”
He blew out a breath. “Yeah. Me, too.”
He was sorry about a lot of things. Sorry he was struggling to find work for his men. Sorry he hadn’t gone to the store when his mother had asked the day she’d died. Sorry he was unable to stop the woman he loved from marrying a stranger her parents had arranged. Sorry he put the hurt in Sophia’s eyes when she was being generous with a compliment.
She’d called him a craftsman.
A smile tugged his lips while unexpected warmth seeped into his chest. That was sweet of her. She seemed less rebellious, subdued even. But still sexy as hell. An image of her—wrapped in that damn towel—flashed through his mind. His dick twitched.
Son-of-a-bitch.
First, she caused movement in his chest, now below his belt.
He was sorry he had to be rude to her, but not sorry hewasrude. It was necessary, thanks to the crazy attraction still sizzling between them. With him scheduled to work with the set designer—her—throughout the summer, physical distance wasn’t an option. However, the same wasn’t true for emotional distance.
Hopefully, she’d gotten the message and wouldn’t waste her time on him, because there was no way he could fight their chemistry for even a week, let alone several months.
Ryder needed to create an invisible wall between them, and counted on his rudeness to lay the foundation for that barrier.
