Page 11 of My Redneck Baby Daddy

"She ain't texted you yet?"

I looked up. Hamilton was leaning against the flatbed with a water bottle, watching me the way a man watches a dog that has gotten into something.

"Who?"

Hamilton snorted. "Shit. Never mind. I thought I was talking to somebody with sense."

"I got work to do."

"Apparently you got a girlfriend to worry about too."

My head snapped up at his words. "Rue ain't my girlfriend."

He nodded slowly. "You checking your phone like she is."

I went back to the forms. Hamilton had worked for me six years, which was long enough to remember when Maddox Concrete was two trucks, a rented lot, and a phone I answered myself at eleven at night. He’d been there when the bank looked at my record and told me no twice before they told me yes. That bought him a certain amount of talking, but it did not buy him this much.

My phone buzzed against the truck bed.

RUE: Regina says Hamilton has her good cake pan and she needs it tonight. She also says he will not bring it home on his own.

RUE: I'm apparently the delivery service.

I read it twice and looked at Hamilton, who had become extremely interested in the tree line.

"Your wife sent Rue out here for a cake pan."

Hamilton offered me a shrug. "My wife is a thoughtful woman."

"Your wife is a meddling woman."

He nodded once more in agreement as I tried to fight down the dizzying feeling that was dancing in my stomach."That too."

Rue pulled into the yard a little after four in her gray Chevy Cruz so clean it looked lost. I saw her before she saw me. She got out still dressed like the teach version Miss Rue, in cardigan over a dress, flats, a bag on her shoulder that probably had a hundred essays in it, and she stood there squinting into the sun while the whole yard went enormous around her. She came up to about the middle of the loader tire.

I liked the sight of her standing in my yard a whole lot more than I had any business liking it.

Then she started over, and I watched her eyes go straight to my arms before they got anywhere near my face. I had my sleeves pushed up past the elbow because it was eighty-four degrees in September, and I let her look a second before I said anything.

"See something you like?"

Her eyes shot up to my face. "No."

I licked at my lips before grinning. "Damn, girl. Didn't even hesitate."

She huffed a little, blowing out some hot air that made her tendrils move around. "I was looking at your tattoos."

"That usually costs extra, Teach."

She rolled her eyes, but her mouth was fighting her. Since the overlook, something between us had loosened up considerably.

"Regina says you have a cake pan…?"

"Hamilton has a cake pan. I’ve a business to run."

Before I could get any further, Cody Vance came around the side of the shop holding a measurement sheet like it was a summons.

"Bobby Jo." The boy had gone pale under his sunburn. "I pulled the wrong numbers for the Hensley patio pour. I’d already called in the order..."