Sarah pulled into the makeshift parking lot next to the job site she was working at and sucked in a deep breath. Working Sunday sucked. She was working overtime she definitely needed, but it meant she was working alone with the boss and that she was not looking forward to. She worked in a male dominated field, she was used to crude, she was used to rude, she was used to having to prove herself. What she was not used to was the constant bad mood her boss seemed to live in. He was okay at first, they had laughed and traded jokes. They had worked together a lot on her first couple jobs but over the last month, he'd gotten progressively worse to the point that if he wasn't yelling at her then he wasn't even acknowledging her. She liked what she did, but she was really starting to hate this job. Unfortunately, since she had recently walked out on her limp dick boyfriend she couldn't afford to quit until she got another roof over her head. So, she had to deal with Mr. Cranky Pants.
Sarah grabbed her coffee as well as the one she'd gotten for him, as a peace offering. She heard a saw running as soon as she stepped into the huge house they were renovating. Great, he was already working. That made her late. She wasn't late, in fact, she was thirty minutes early, but it didn't matter. Before she even had a chance to put down her coffee the object of her frustration came striding from the back. He had a long section of banister balanced on his shoulder. He looked good, damn him. His short sleeves showed off an impressive set of muscles. She was such a sucker for biceps. His short black hair was covered by a ball cap, but his dark eyes were quick and assessing.
"Good morning," she said brightly. "I brought you some coffee."
"You're late." He growled as he continued past her. She rolled her eyes but didn't bother to argue, there was no point. She was so annoyed that she didn't even watch him walk away, and that broad back and tight ass was not a sight she gave up easy. Instead, she put his coffee beside the saw he'd been using and buckled her tool belt around her slim waist. Thankfully her hips were enough to hold it up.
When he'd asked her to work overtime, he said he needed the molding hung so that's where she went. She measured and cut molding according to the plans and tried to pretend he wasn't there. Until she heard him coughing and sputtering.
"Good God, this is not coffee." He yelled, and she inwardly groaned. The coffee stand must have switched the lids on the cup. She hadn't tasted hers yet, but she liked her's sweet and cream filled. He liked his hot black and strong. She picked up the cup she'd thought was hers and carried it back in the other room.
"Is this your idea of a joke?" He growled.
"No," she set the other cup down and took the one she had originally given him. "Apparently I gave you the wrong one."
"How can you drink that nasty shit."
"I like it sweet and full of cream."
His eyes narrowed, and he glared at her. "Did you make that sound like innuendo on purpose?"
The comment surprised her, and she almost laughed, almost. "No. I was really talking about the coffee."
"Look I don't need a lawsuit."
"Oh my God, give it a rest, it wasn't innuendo. I'm not trying to seduce you, or hit on you, or harass you. The stick you've got shoved all the way up your ass is safe!" She hadn't meant to say so much, and she could see she'd surprised them both when his jaw sagged. She didn't wait for a response she just walked back into the kitchen. Hoping he didn't fire her when he got over the initial shock of her comments. After a moment she heard his saw again and breathed a sigh of relief before going back to work. It was hard to find a construction job as a woman and she really didn't want to be job hunting as well as apartment hunting. That would likely mean she'd be stripping again and while she didn't mind taking her clothes off for money, she liked building things a whole lot more. She could deal with one asshole.
He didn't speak to her throughout the rest of the morning, which suited her just fine, but the reprieve had to end eventually. "The banister is in. Can you stain it?"
"Sure, let me tack in the last of this molding."
Jack tried not to watch her, but he couldn't help it. She was standing on a ladder hanging the crown molding and the position gave him a prime view of her ass in her tight jeans. She had a great ass, no sparkles on the pockets, just nice blue denim and it was driving him slowly insane. She was much too young for him to be ogling her ass, not to mention she was his employee. There were a thousand reasons he shouldn't be staring at her ass and yet he was. She was a tiny little thing when she came off that ladder, she only reached somewhere near his mid chest, but her size was deceptive. When he hired her, he thought no way in hell could she do the job, but she'd surprised him. She was a whole lot stronger than she looked and worked harder than half his crew. It was really too bad he couldn't tolerate being near her.
"Boss?"
"Hmm?" He realized she was talking to him and he was off in fantasy land again.
"Do you have the stain?"
"It's in the supply trailer."
"Do you know what color?"
"Look at the plans, I'm not doing your job for you," he snapped and walked off. He hated his shitty attitude as much as anyone, but he couldn't help it. This girl was driving him crazy, burrowed under his skin and nothing he'd tried had gotten her out. He walked out the front door and hopped in his truck. He would go get sandwiches or something. A little air would be good.
Sarah was nearly finished staining the bannister when Jack returned. She was sitting at the top of the stairs. He was carrying a brown paper bag and stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"It doesn't look right," he said, and she silently reminded herself not to let him get to her. "Are you sure that's the right stain?"
"It's what the plans say."
"It's too dark."
"It will dry lighter."
He wasn't listening he was already looking at the plans and comparing it to the can. It pissed her off. She wasn't the bimbo her blond hair suggested, she could compare numbers on plans to those on a can.
"If you really think I'm that inept, why don't you just fire me?" She snapped. He looked up at her wide-eyed. "Stop looking for an excuse and just do it already."
"I can't fire you."
"Why?" She expected another lawsuit comment but that's not what she got.
"Because you're the best finish person I've got! If I'm so shitty to work for why don't you quit?" He yelled at her.
"Because I need this job until I find an apartment." She yelled back. She stood and stomped down the stairs. "Believe me if I weren't a shitty motel away from homeless, I wouldn't take this shit!"
"Why are you living in a shitty motel?"
"Because I left my limp dick ex in the apartment that I paid for."
His expression seemed to soften just a bit, "Sorry," he muttered. "I recently went through that myself."
