Chapter Fourteen

It was two hours before Greg came to her house, and her nerves were stretched to the limit. She had known he would come over; she just didn’t think it would’ve taken him so long. She’d finally put the kiss earlier today in perspective, and she was determined to find out from Greg just who he thought he was. He couldn’t just kiss her anytime and anywhere he pleased.

And she was going to make sure he understood that.

She hadn’t taken more than two steps when Jack, bouncing against her legs in a hurry to beat her to the door, slammed into the almost full container of gas she’d left in the living room—the one she’d just taken the top off to clean a paint brush. Gasoline should only be used outside in a well-ventilated area. Her living room definitely didn’t qualify as outside in a well-ventilated area.

She’d been careless, but she’d only had the one brush to clean, and her living room wasn’t exactly what she would call livable right now. She had disregarded common sense and made a very foolish decision.

As the noxious odor filled the air, she rushed into the laundry room for old towels to throw over the spilled gas, which had now soaked into the old, ratty carpet. The doorbell rang at the same time her nose started to run and her eyes began to water.

Cupping her nose and mouth with one hand, she grabbed Jack’s leash, opened the front door, and almost barreled into Greg who stood with a six-pack of beer, a tub of chocolate ice cream, and a bag of food from a hamburger joint.

He stepped back quickly and looked at her as if she were crazy. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Is that gasoline?”

Ginger took a deep breath of fresh air. “It’s all your fault!” she snapped, reaching down to calm Jack who was desperately trying to see inside the bag of food.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s your fault for kissing me like that at the office!”

His eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry. That was just a hello kiss. I missed you. I’ve never had a woman stink up her house just because I kissed her, though.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Ginger, you’re not making any sense. Now calm down and tell me what happened.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Because of the way you kissed me earlier today, I was…flustered. I made a stupid mistake. I was cleaning a brush I used in oil-based paint, and Jack accidentally turned over a can of gasoline in my living room. Now it stinks to high heavens!”

“Gasoline? Are you nuts?”

Probably, but she wasn’t going to admit that to him.

“I was out of mineral spirits, and I didn’t want to ruin my brush. Gasoline works just as well. My father used to use it all the time to clean his brushes,” she said defiantly.

“I have, too. But I don’t think I’ve ever used gas inside a house!”

“And that’s probably a good thing. Look what can happen.”

He started to grin, but it disappeared quickly when he looked in her eyes. “Uh, that’s not just a simple mistake, you know. Those fumes can be dangerous. How long ago did it happen?”

“Just a minute ago, and of course I know it can be dangerous. Why do you think I’m outside now?”

“Because you couldn’t wait to see me?” he ventured, taking another step back.

“If I didn’t have the beginning of a painful headache, I’d slug you right now.”

He chuckled and walked over to place the food and beer on the small table in the corner of the front porch. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” And then he told Jack to stay put and stepped inside the house.

She sighed and sat down at the table. Her head really was starting to hurt, and she was suddenly very tired and hungry. Berating herself for being so stupid wasn’t going to help matters, but of all the people to witness such an embarrassing blunder, it had to be Greg. She reached into the paper bag. It was still his fault, she reasoned as she opened the wrapper and took a bite of the hamburger.

He came back outside. “Whew, it’s pretty strong in there. I put the towels in a trash bag out by the garbage can and opened all the windows. We’ll have to cut out the carpet, too, but I don’t think the noxious smell is going to clear out tonight. You need to gather whatever you think you’ll need and come back to my house with me.”

She swallowed and looked at him. “No way in hell.”

“Be reasonable.” He pulled out the other hamburger. “You can’t sleep inside this house tonight, and you know it. Jack could get sick even if you don’t.”

“I’m not going to your house,” she replied firmly. “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not even an option. If I have to, I’ll spend the night in a motel.”

He leaned back in his chair and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he nodded and pointed a french fry at her. “Do you have any camping gear?”

“Let me guess. You were a Boy Scout.”

“The best. Not to brag or anything, but I imagine my name is still up on some plaque in the Boy Scout Hall of Fame.”

She popped the fry in her mouth. “There’s no such thing.”

“Well, if there were, my name would be up there. So do you, or do you not, have camping gear?”

“Some,” she replied. “Why?”

“The Boy Scout motto is to always be helpful. In that spirit, I’m not leaving you alone with this disaster. Now finish eating, woman. We’ve got work to do, and it’s getting late.”

She dipped a french fry in ketchup. “Greg, as much as I would dearly love to blame this accident on you, it wouldn’t be fair. This is my fault, and I’m more than capable of handling the cleanup. I really do appreciate your willingness to jump in and help, but it’s not necessary.”

“I agree you are more than capable. I’m not offering to help because I think you are some helpless female who can’t plug in a vacuum cleaner by herself. I know you can do that because I’ve seen you do it with my own eyes.” With a laugh he dodged the fry she flipped at him. “Seriously, I want to help. Just think what a fantastic story this will be for my great-grandchildren when I’m sitting in my rocker reminiscing about what an amazing guy I was.”

“Well, if that’s what you’re going to remember, I hope you don’t think there will be more than a couple of times you’ll have these bonding moments with your great-grandkids. What are they going to call you?”

He tilted his head back as though seriously considering her questions. “Grand Pappy. Yep, I like that.”

She shrugged. “It’s better than shithead, I guess.” This time she was the one who dodged the flying fry.

“Hurry up and finish eating. We need to get a move on.”

She grinned and wolfed down the rest of her meal. Even Jack seemed to sense there was something going on he should be excited about. His big tail wagged as he looked back and forth between Ginger and Greg as though awaiting instructions.

Fifteen minutes later, Greg grabbed a large plastic tarp, her sleeping bag, an ice chest, a flashlight, and a lantern from her garage while she covered her nose with her hand and ran inside to gather blankets and pillows from the hall closet. He then quickly darted inside to dump the ice from her refrigerator into the ice chest and set it on the back porch along with the other supplies. He then closed and locked all the windows in the front of the house, but left the back ones open for ventilation. The smell of gasoline in the house was still overwhelming.

Greg took a deep breath and looked over the items they had collected. “I think we’ve got everything we need.”

She laughed. “If not, it’s only a couple of steps to the house.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? You’re supposed to be pretending we’re cut off from civilization, lost in the wilderness somewhere.”

“Well, I’d say this is really poor planning, then. I don’t think we’ll survive too long on beer and chocolate ice cream. Adventure or not, I’m going to reiterate I think this is totally unnecessary.”

“Far be it for me to remind you you’ve already made one pretty big error in judgment tonight by bringing gasoline inside your house. You’ll understand if I’m not comfortable with you doing the right thing now.” He expertly dodged the pillow she threw at him and picked up the plastic tarp. “Besides, you might have the heart to disappoint your dog, but I certainly don’t.”

Jack was staying right on Greg’s heels as though he was expecting a pocket full of dog biscuits.

“Light that lantern and bring it out here.” He walked outside the glow of the porch light over to a far corner of the backyard. “We’ll leave the porch light on to attract the insects away from us.”

“Good idea. You know,” she called to him as she knelt on the patio and carefully lit the small net mantle on the lantern and adjusted the flame, “it’s a good thing it’s early summer and we won’t need to build a fire.”

“Yeah, takes some of the drama out of it, though. But I don’t even want to think about fire after spilling all that gasoline.”

Ginger smiled, picked up the sleeping bag, and carried the lantern out to Greg where he had smoothed the tarp on the ground. He took the sleeping bag from her and after unrolling it, unzipped the zipper so that it opened up all the way. Then he placed it on top of the tarp.

Her smile faltered. She looked at the sleeping bag, and then she looked at him. “What are you doing?”

Greg stood and inspected his handiwork. “Making a place for us to sleep. Help me get the rest of the stuff, will you?” He headed back toward the porch while she stared at his back.

Finally, her feet moved. She set the lantern down on the ground and quickly caught up to him. “We can’t sleep like that!”

He grabbed the ice chest and nodded toward the blankets and pillows. “Grab those, if you don’t mind.” He headed back toward the mini-camp. “And don’t worry, you’ll sleep just fine.”

Her mouth dropped open. Was he purposely misunderstanding her? He didn’t seem to see anything wrong with the way he was preparing the sleeping arrangements. She picked up the blankets and pillows off the patio table and hurried over to him. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I thought you would sleep in the sleeping bag, and I’d use the blankets.”

He set the ice chest down and looked at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is you think I would be that inconsiderate. The ground is as hard as a rock. You wouldn’t get any sleep at all. The sleeping bag is thick and soft, a perfect layer between us and the ground, and the blankets are in case the night gets chilly.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it. He would insist on her taking the sleeping bag, and she would feel like a cad for making him sleep on the hard ground. Whether he felt it or not, the sexual tension between them was still too hot. It had only been a week since he rocked her world, and her body still tingled every time she thought about that night. How in the world would she handle sleeping next to him for an entire night?

She clasped her hands together nervously and looked at him. The light from the lantern played softly across his strong features. He was watching her, waiting for a response. He stood there, tall and incredibly handsome in his cutoff shorts and black T-shirt, his feet planted slightly apart, the muscles in his legs chiseled to perfection. His shoulders appeared wide enough to carry the world if he chose to do so, and a lock of dark brown hair fell across his forehead, making him appear almost boyish. But Greg was no boy—he was one hundred percent grownup male with more than his fair share of animal masculinity. And that’s what worried her.

Sighing softly, he walked up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “There’s nothing to worry about, Ginger,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our friendship.” While he spoke, his hands rubbed slowly up and down her arms. She was sure it was meant as a comforting gesture, but it was having the opposite effect on her. She had to make him stop, or she was going to end up throwing him to the ground…and not so they could sleep.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m being silly. Of course, you’re right.” She took a step back and bent down to reposition the lantern. Not that it needed repositioning, but she didn’t want to make it obvious his touch was driving her crazy.

“You’re sure?” he asked. “You’re okay with it?”

She nodded. “I’m sure.” She needed to get a handle on her emotions, or she would be the one to ruin this friendship. He was evidently fine with just being friends, and since she was the one who had stated the terms of their relationship, she had better pull herself together. “That ice cream is sounding pretty good. Want some?”

“Now I know what we forgot…spoons. I’ll be right back.”

She started to tell him she would get them, but he turned and jogged toward the house, disappearing inside. She looked down at Jack who had found a comfortable spot at the end of the sleeping bag. “You better stay close tonight.”

Greg returned carrying two spoons and a dog biscuit for Jack. He informed her the house still stunk to high heavens, then he grabbed the ice cream from the ice chest and plopped down in the middle of the sleeping bag.

“You didn’t get any bowls?”

“Nope. We don’t need any.” He tossed the dog biscuit to Jack. “Sit down and dig in.”

She raised her eyebrows, but she sat down across from him, the tub of ice cream between them. “We’re really going primitive, aren’t we?” she teased when he handed her a spoon. “I wonder how long that god-awful smell is going to last.”

He dipped his spoon into the tub. “I’m sure it will be gone by morning,” he said around a mouthful of ice cream. “Just to be sure, I found one of those flowery-smelling candles in a kitchen drawer and lit it.”

She nodded and scooped out some ice cream. “Good. That will help—you what?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m only kidding! Give me some credit. Do you really think I’d light a match with all those fumes in there?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You might if you were tired of working on my house. It could all be gone with just one strike of a match, and then you wouldn’t feel obligated to help any longer.”

He leaned over sideways and supported himself on one elbow. “I’ve never felt obligated. I actually enjoy watching your house come together. Besides, the help I’ve given has been minor. You’ve done an amazing job.”

She was warmed by his praise. Still, she felt guilty about him spending so much time working on her house when he had his own repairs to tackle. “Thank you, Greg. I’m at a standstill right now, though. The next room I want to start working on is the kitchen, and I don’t quite have the money saved up for it yet.” She took another bite of ice cream. “So next week I want to start helping you with your house. The days are longer now, and we can get in about three hours a day.”

He shook his head. “I’ve already told you that’s not necessary.”

“I don’t care whether it’s necessary or not. I want to help. It’s one small way I can show you the appreciation I feel for all you’ve done for me.”

“No way. Besides, you can’t work all day at the office and then spend a few hours at my place. You’ll be exhausted. I appreciate the offer, but the answer is no.”

“Let me get this straight.” She pointed her spoon at him. “I can’t work at the office and then work on your house because it will exhaust me, but I can work at the office all day and work on my house, and I’m hunky-dory. Oh, wait a minute. I remember now. When I brought up the subject before of helping you, you said something about it would run off all the single women in your neighborhood. Well, you’re just going to have to find a way to deal with it. Unless the real reason is I would embarrass you, or that having me there would challenge your machismo?”

She really did want to help him with the work on his house. It was the least she could do. For weeks, he’d been giving up his free time to help her with the repairs on her home, and since she couldn’t pay him—and because he wouldn’t take money from her, anyway—she could give him a hand with his projects.

“Of course, I wouldn’t be embarrassed—”

“Good. I still want to get a few things done here over the weekend, so we’ll start on your place Monday.”

It was hard to define his expression in the darkness, but she sensed he was smiling, understanding she was going to help, come hell or high water. She liked a man who knew when he was beat. And she was proved right when he started talking about some of the work needing to be done to the house he shared with his brothers.

“You haven’t mentioned anything I’m not capable of helping you with.”

“I don’t doubt that. I’ve seen what you’ve done to your own place.”

“There is just one little thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

She looked down and played with a blade of grass. “I’m not crazy about Justin and Steve knowing you’ve been over at my house so much helping me. They may think we’re more than just friends, and they probably wouldn’t like that. I need to keep what I do in the hours away from the office to myself. If you don’t mind, I’d like to just tell them I need to brush up on my skills and wanted to help you on your house. Is that okay with you?”

“No problem at all. It won’t be a big deal, though. First of all, I know my brothers will be impressed their office administrator can also kick ass with construction tools. And second, Justin and Steve will be in Dallas almost all of next week, organizing the startup of that job. I’ll tell them tonight you’ll be helping out.”

She nodded. Everything would be up front. She was still a little apprehensive about working with Greg alone at his house, but her feelings didn’t make much sense. She would have as much control over any situation that might arise as she did at her own house. And it was silly to think a situation might arise in the first place. Greg seemed perfectly content to keep their relationship on a casual, friendly path.

Or could it be she didn’t fully trust herself?

“All of us will be going back and forth for a while during the startup of the Dallas job,” he said as he sat up and placed the lid on the ice cream. Dropping it into the ice chest along with the spoons, he continued, “Once things are up and running smoothly, the superintendents will be handling the day-to-day stuff, and we’ll just drop in every once in a while to monitor the progress.”

“How long are you estimating this job will take?”

“Probably about three months, give or take.”

She was about to comment on some of the specific details on the Dallas job when a deep rumbling noise penetrated the air. She cocked her head and listened. It was coming from Jack. He was snoring.

Greg laughed softly. “I guess we bored him to sleep.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame he can’t get comfortable.”

The air had turned slightly cooler, but it was refreshing, the humidity from the warm day seeping away. The porch light did its job keeping the flying insects away from them, and the soft glow of the lantern provided enough light to keep complete darkness from enveloping their makeshift camp sight. It really was a fun and cozy setting. She completely understood how Jack could have dozed off.

“What about you? Are you tired yet?”

“No!” she said quickly, her eyes flying to his. She might understand Jack’s comfort level, but she wasn’t Jack. Sleeping was definitely not on her agenda tonight. Just the thought of lying down next to Greg was enough to keep her wide awake. “I mean, I’m fine. I’m actually enjoying looking at the stars.” Which was true to a certain point. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

He looked at her for a moment. He scooted toward her, and her eyes widened. Surely he could hear her heart beating in her chest, but when he got close he simply said, “Turn around.”

“What?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and started to turn her. “Turn around. You’re as rigid as a two-by-four piece of lumber. Did you strain yourself today?”

“N-n-no,” she stuttered, trying to ignore the feel of his hands as she turned. He moved even closer and placed his legs on either side of her with his knees bent, so close that if she allowed herself to move, she would brush against them. She held herself ramrod straight…until his hands started massaging her shoulders.

His long fingers were firm against her collar bone as his thumbs kneaded and pressed the muscles in her shoulders and up her neck. Her bones became liquid. A moan of pure pleasure escaped from her lips as the two-by-four stiffness melted into molten lava. Her head fell back, and her eyes drifted closed. She rotated her head from side to side, stretching her neck as he continued to work his magic.

“Feel better?” he asked softly.

Oh, yeah, she almost groaned out loud. “Better” didn’t even begin to explain the way she was feeling. Her nerve endings were dancing the jitterbug while her limbs watched lazily from the sidelines. “Much,” she said, dismayed her voice came out on a soft sigh, but too relaxed to do anything about it. She was in serious danger of wanting something that wasn’t sensible.

He moved closer still, the warmth from his body caressing her back. She leaned back and rested against his chest, absently noting his breathing had changed. She could have pulled away, made some light comment about the perfect evening weather, or the amusing experience of camping out in her backyard.

But she didn’t.