Good Wood (4 page)

Oh no, he didn’t! Allow me to take my earrings out!

“Who said that?” I was still holding my chef’s knife, which I stabbed psycho-style into my cutting board. I stormed toward the door of the truck. The hard hat-clad insult slinger spun to face me. I caught the toe of my Converse on the bottom step and two muscular arms shot out, saving me from a face plant. As the armchair food-critic placed me in an upright position, it felt suspiciously like he copped a feel. My jaw clenched and I was ready to rumble when I realized I was looking up into the sultry green eyes of Joe Jensen.

“I hope you cook better than you walk.” The typical Joe-like taunt lacked all of the playful edge I remembered. His bedroom eyes swept over me, and I suddenly felt naked and exposed. As pissed as I was, I didn’t mind one bit. However, a small crowd of workers had witnessed my blunder, and I was embarrassed to have an audience. I could feel my cheeks turning as red as my truck’s new paintjob. I suddenly remembered his snarky comment which had pulled me from my work and it instantly made me furious all over again.

“Screw you, Joe. And if you’re not buying-start walkin’.” He recoiled slightly in genuine surprise. A crease formed between his eyebrows, temporarily marring his perfect features.

“Have we met?”

I scrunched my face in disdain.

“
You’re joking, right?” I squinted at him and he looked a little nervous as he shook his head. He obviously expected a reply.

Nice. He doesn’t even know who I am!

“We didn’t...” His glance glided down my chest and then over to my tattooed arm. He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No...you’re not my type.”

“Well, excuse me while I cry myself to sleep.” I snapped, though it
was
harsh to be so easily dismissed by my childhood crush-especially in front a gaggle of strangers. I felt heat in my face and knew I was turning a darker shade of crimson. “Yes, we’ve met, jackass. Many times. I’m Mac and Mason’s sister. Now piss off! Some of these guys actually want to eat.” I turned to climb back on the truck and I felt his warm grip on my arm.

“Molly? Little Molly? No fucking way! I don’t believe it.” He chuckled as he gave me another panty-obliterating once over. “You’ve sure grown up.”

“Funny how that happens as a decade or so passes.” His eyes moved leisurely over my cleavage, and I folded my arms across my chest. Though the day was warm, my body was reacting to him
big time
. I bit the inside of my lip. I’d always wanted Joe to look at me that way, but it sure didn’t feel the way I thought it would. Something had changed about him...though after over ten years, I could hardly be surprised. I guess it’s hard for a teenage crush to survive the rigors of reality. Still, he was setting a blaze between my legs that was making it a little hard to stay cool. When I spoke again, I stammered.

“N…not all of us can stay trapped in adolescence...” The corner of his mouth curled skyward.

“I didn’t recognize you with all the ink and that thing in your nose.” I tilted my head, my narrowing eyes scrutinizing him. Something had definitely shifted in him over the years. The lights were still on, but no one was home. Sweet, playful Joe had left the building.

“It’s called a nose ring.”

“Did it hurt?” He scrunched his nose sympathetically.

“I’ve had more painful piercings.” I shrugged dismissively and his eyebrows shot to his hairline. It was Joe’s turn to flush. Unfortunately, he wore it very well.

“Really...” I watched as his face transformed into something a bit more predatory He honed in on me like a cat studying a canary. My chest rose and fell, though I willed myself to still my breathing. A dark curl flopped out of my bandana, and he reached up and brushed it off of my cheek. My mouth fell open a little, but I was struck completely speechless by his touch.

He placed his hand on the truck above my head, and his closeness was electric. As I took a step back, I felt warm steel through the material of my shirt and realized he’d effectively cornered me. My traitorous heart galloped in my chest. “
Now
you’ve got me curious. Can I see ‘em??”

“Dude!
Sister
.” My brother, Mason barked at Joe as his hand came down on his shoulder. “Do
not
make me go get my nail gun.” Joe chuckled and took a step back, his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. I exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

“You tell ‘em, Mason.” Some old homeless guy called from his place on the curb. “Kick his smart ass.”

“Francis, you backstabber! Who’s buying you lunch today?” Joe called light-heartedly to the waifish man.

“Not you, I guess. You just called it ‘overpriced’. My money’s on her brother.” Francis responded, not missing a beat. I felt a wry smile twist on my lips.

“Francis, today’s wrap is on the house.” I called over to the ancient vagrant.

“Well that’s just
Wrapgasmic
!” Francis responded, theatrically waving his arm in the air. I cackled uproariously.

Joe turned slowly and watched me as I tried to contain my laughter. The expression he wore was a bit odd, and something about it made me bite back further giggles. He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I wouldn’t do that, little girl. He’s been squatting in the courtyard of this place since before we started the project. He’s like a stray cat. Feed him once and he’s yours.” I opened my mouth to tell him not to call me little girl, but was interrupted when my employee bellowed out the truck window.

“Molly!” Stacy fixed me with a “get back to work” glare. With a lingering glance at Joe, I climbed back on the truck. As I made my retreat, I heard Mason snap at him.

“My
baby
sister... Really, Dude?” Joe chuckled.

“Mason, chill. You know me better than that: I’m just here for the blonde.”

MY BRAIN HAD been smashed like an overripe melon. At least, that’s what it felt like. I’d spent another productive evening on dirty 6th, drinking and cruising for tourist tail. Most of the night was a blur, but I could recall some enjoyable moments after we went back to her hotel room.

Shit. What the hell was her name? Britney? Sheila? Oh, who fucking cares?

The sunlight shining through the window onto my face was just another fuck you from the universe at large. It turned the pulses of pain in my head from irritating to downright excruciating. Flipping the covers back, I rose and slipped into the bathroom. A quick lather and rinse and I was ready to go. Creeping back into the bedroom, I threw on last night’s clothes. A sexy bare ass peeked at me from under the covers beckoning me like a siren to slip back in for another go-round.

A year or so back, I might have done just that. But I had learned a few valuable lessons from some of the psycho chicks I have had to deal with. The morning after, you get up, get dressed and get the hell out. Otherwise, they form attachments and start feeling like they have some sort of hold on you. Even with those ground rules some still tried to dig their claws in. Like wanting to go to my place or putting their number in my phone. Like I said…psychos. If I wanted your number, I’d have asked for it. If you’re lucky, I’ll remember your name while we’re screwing. No promises.

As I pulled my shirt over my head, the toned figure beneath the covers stirred.
Shit, so much for making a clean get away
. Bloodshot eyes peered at me from beneath a rat’s nest of hair for a moment before recognition dawned.

“Come back to bed, Joe.” The sultry delivery of her invitation probably served her well most of the time. It just irritated me.
Presumptuous much? Some of us have to get to fucking work. Damn tourists.

“No can do. I gotta go.” I scanned around for my cell phone and found it lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. A quick inventory followed.
Better to pause and make sure you have all your gear, Bucko.
Women read all sorts of shit into something as simple as coming back for keys. Like you really want to stay so subconsciously you left something behind. Umm...no, I’m just hung over. Thanks.

She twisted under the blanket giving me what I could only assume was her best seductive look.
God damn. How drunk was I last night? Since when did I start sleeping with sixes? Damn beer goggles
! My mental inventory done, I rounded the bed and strode for the door giving her a wave as I went, “Nice to meet you, Janice.”

She froze and then glared at me, “My name is Marcy.”

I shrugged at her as I opened the door. “Does it matter?”

Before she could reply, I slipped out and let the door close behind me. I opted to take the stairs despite my pounding head. More than one skanky gremlin had cornered me at an elevator. Besides I was going down, not up.

I walked the few blocks over to where I had left my truck. Unlocking the dry box in the bed, I pulled a clean shirt, underwear, socks and pants out and lay them on the driver’s seat. Using the open door as cover I quickly changed throwing the dirty clothes in a garbage bag. I tossed the bag into the dry box and locked it before sliding behind the wheel. As I pulled out, some old woman drinking a mimosa on her porch swing lifted her drink in salute and gave me a lewd wink. Or maybe it was a drag queen. It is so hard to tell anymore in Austin. Guess the truck gave me less cover than I thought. I winked back and waved.

I hit a drive-thru for some strong black coffee and protein. I set the sack on the seat and concentrated on my driving. It was only ten minutes to the job site and only when I had put the truck in park did I feel it was safe to start eating. Just the thought of being in an accident made me almost physically ill these days. The old Joe would have never thought twice about it.
The lucky prick.

It was still early-people were just starting to roll in, so I decided to sit in the truck while I forced down the rest of the second rate coffee. I caught my reflection in the mirror and almost choked on my sandwich.
God damn, I look like shit.
While I wasn’t paying attention, I turned into the guy I used to make fun of when I was younger. Bouncing from bed to bed, fucking everything with nice tits, and single-handedly keeping the condom companies in business. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent a quiet evening at home, or the last time I felt good-about anything. Well, at least not since the night my world ended.