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“That was way before I knew I was going. I was clearly suffering from a head injury.”

Sandra bent her knee and tapped her ankle. “You sprained your ankle, not your brain.”

“Secondary trauma.”

Sandra laughed and headed toward where Gabe and Ben were working, already lifting the camera again. Jodie watched her go, then looked back at Mac.

He was still smiling, still looking at her. And still standing much too close.

This time, Jodie didn’t step away so quickly.

By late afternoon, the work had slowed from controlled chaos to plain old exhaustion. Half the crew had drifted toward the patio for cold drinks while the rest finished whatever job they’d stubbornly decided absolutely had to be done before they surrendered. The auger sat empty on its trailer, an hour ahead of Jodie’s deadline.

Jodie was checking off the last items on her clipboard when Mac came up beside her.

“Gabe says there’s another box of gate hardware behind the barn.”

“Of course there is.” She flipped a page. “Because why would anything be where the inventory sheet says it is?”

Jodie tore her gaze from the clipboard and looked at Mac. Sweat had darkened the collar of his T-shirt, dirt streaked one forearm, and the dusty cowboy hat was now twice as distracting as the first time she’d laid eyes on it. Worse, his skin was lightly sheened with sweat, emphasizing every last muscle. And the cherry on the sexy sundae was his five o’clock shadow.

Mac looked absolutely devastating, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d do something completely stupid like step into his arms and kiss the hell out of him.

“Mercy. I need backup,” she told herself.

His mouth twitched. “For the hardware?”

Jodie blinked hard. “What?”

“Sorry, you just said you needed backup.”

Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?

“Obviously. I mean, there’s no way I could carry all that hardware by myself, right? So yes, I meant backup for the hardware.”

Mac folded his arms and tilted his head as his lips curved into a smile. “Right. Of course.”

“What else could I have meant?”

He lifted a shoulder in a slow shrug. “No idea, Jodie.”

Liar.

Jodie turned and started walking before he could see her face reddening, though she was pretty sure he could see a hot, red glow from behind.

They walked around to the back of the barn. The noise from the others dulled once the building blocked them from the rest of the yard, though she could still hear the occasional dog bark and somebody laughing near the pasture. The box sat exactly where Gabe said it would be, tucked beside a stack of unused bags of concrete.

“Yup. This is right where Gabe said it would be,” Mac said.

“Excellent. We’ve accomplished our mission.”

Neither of them attempted to pick the box up.

Jodie looked toward the corner of the barn. Nobody was there, not even a dog. Nobody looking their way.

When she turned back, Mac was watching her.

Jodie folded her arms loosely. “So.”