Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 6
KYLE
Watching Dani make loops in and out of her house is almost a workout in itself. Or at least my heart thinks so because it’s pounding like I’m the one jogging back and forth from the curb, and I’m standing still, feigning attention on Zeus so that he keeps working. Beneath my hat, I bounce my eyes toward the front yard again and again, this time appreciating the round curve of Dani’s ass in the black skintight shorts she’s wearing today when she climbs up on a truck’s running board to hand over a bag of Styrofoam boxes to the crew lounging in the bed. They thank her with smiles, which she returns easily.
But as soon as she turns around, her smile falls. She’s exhausted, running herself ragged and working herself to the bone, which is something I understand. It might not seem like I do much, considering my current stationary, supervisory position, but I work side by side with my crew during the day and prep quotes and project plans when there’s time, which sometimes means working well into the night to keep my business running smoothly. I’m not an all-work-no-play type like I suspect Dani is, but I do my fair share of labor.
I’m not the only one distracted today, but thankfully, Zeus isn’t distracted by Dani the way I am. Instead, he seems to have developed stage fright from the long line of trucks filled with guys watching our progress. Zeus is the best operator I’ve seen, but he’s been skittish as a cat on a hot tin roof today, jerking the controls rather than smoothly gliding them the way he typically does.
He’s almost done with today’s dig goal, getting the last scoop of dirt from the main hole, when there’s a loud whistle out front. “Motherfucker!” he hisses.
Focused on Dani again, I jerk my eyes back Zeus’s way to see that he’s accidentally pulled up one of the guide stakes. He hasn’t done that since the first week after I hired him, but I don’t have to tell the guys what to do. Wayne’s already moving to fix it, and Frogger gives Zeus a thumbs-up. “Done.” Then the three sets of eyes turn to me for final approval.
“Let me grab the plans to confirm.”
I go out to my truck to get the pool blueprints to double-check the hole size—and yes, there are always jokes about gaping holes with my crew—and I smile at Dani, waving as we cross paths. To me, we’re both hard workers doing our jobs with our whole beings. To her, I’m the asshole who’s fucking her over, so she glares at me as her lip curls into a snarl. For good measure, she flips me off with both barrels.
Not rising to the taunt, I drop her a wink. “Is that an offer?” I wonder aloud, making sure she can hear me. Because despite Dani’s bitchiness, I wouldn’t say no. If I could get her to quit cussing me out and cursing my existence, I bet she’d be a firecracker in bed, dangerous to light and fun to watch explode. “A double offer, even.”
In answer, she suddenly fake lunges at me threateningly. Given that there’s a four-foot-high fence between us, I don’t react, but the guys in the truck she just delivered to start chuckling at my misfortune. She keeps going, her next delivery weighing on her, and though I keep my eyes on Dani, not putting a sneak attack past her, I pull open the passenger door of my truck.
“I’ve never seen Dani so cantankerous. Maybe you should move,” one of the guys suggests helpfully as he puts it in gear, ready to make way for the next truck. “Might save your paint job from getting keyed!” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, loudly rumbling off down the street.
“Yeah, like I hadn’t thought of that,” I murmur to myself as I grab the blueprints.
The first few days on this job, I did half-expect to come out to my truck at the end of the day to find flat tires, or maybe even knifed ones, but like me, Dani must’ve realized that would only stop me from moving my truck. She seems like a smart cookie, though, so I’m pretty sure headlights, windshield, and paint job destruction are still on the table as viable options.
But the guy’s suggestion does give me another idea, so instead of heading back into the yard, I approach the next truck waiting for food. I wave at the guys in the cab. “Hey, can I ask ya a question?”
“Sure, whatcha need?” the driver, a forty-something-year-old guy in a faded Polo shirt, asks. The driver is usually the crew lead, and he probably thinks I’m looking for workers. Except then he adds, “We do interior finishing, not pools, so what d’ya wanna to know about Dani?”