Bringing Home the Bachelor

“But everyone else gets a crack at cutting pipe, too. Bobby says it’ll look good for the camera. So the rest of the kids get to cut junk pipe. And you,” he added, pointing a finger at Seth, “get to carry it all to the shop. Get started.”

“Me? Why?”

“This is the grunt work, kid. And you are the grunt.”

Jenny managed not to laugh at this keen observation. Mumbling under his breath about how this totally wasn’t fair, Seth hauled out a few lengths of pipe and began carrying them to the shop. He dropped one, then another. Juggling the remaining pipe, he tried to kick the pipes on the ground, but only succeeded in stubbing his toe.

“Let him handle it,” Billy said, close to her ear as his massive hand settled on her shoulder and pulled her back—gently—toward the truck.

Too late, she realized she’d gasped, although she would have been hard-pressed to say if her response was out of concern for Seth or because of the sudden pressure of Billy’s touch.

She wanted to squirm—this was different than the last time he’d held her back. Instead of the middle of the well-lit shop, with a camera recording their every move, she was alone with Billy in the dark.

She tensed. Would he press her against the truck’s side, all of those tattooed muscles giving her no place to go? Would he take a kiss from her—or something more? Would she let him?

Good girls didn’t let bad boys take those kisses, and Jenny had spent the past fourteen years being a good girl. Through hard work and dedication, she’d become a respectable woman—not someone who chased rich bad boys.

So why did she want him to kiss her so much?

Darn it all, he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he trailed his hand down her back—which still made her insides quiver, especially when his hand traced the curve of her hips, just above her bottom.

God, she needed to say something. Anything.

“I...” Then she looked up, her gaze meeting Billy’s.

His face was only a few inches from hers, and the look in his eyes melted the part of her brain that was trying to engage in polite conversation.

Billy grinned. Not a full-on display of teeth, just the corners of his mouth moving up in unison, but he looked as if he’d discovered the cookie jar and was about to stick his hand into it.

“This is the part,” he said, his voice rumbling out of his broad chest as he reached up and smoothed her hair away from her face, “where you threaten to feed me to the coyotes.”

Ah. Yes, that was her line. But she was powerless to say that, much less anything else. All she could think was, dance with me. Dance with me and make it worth it.

Then the sound of metal clanging on metal and what was most likely an inappropriate curse word muttered by her son snapped her out of her stupor. Seth was still about, after all. It wouldn’t do to have him see his mother and this man making googly eyes at each other.

She pulled away. It took more effort than she thought it would.

“How you doing?” Billy called out, looking none the worse for wear.

“This is stupid,” came the completely Seth-like response.

“You don’t have to haul metal,” Billy responded, still looking completely unflustered. “You also don’t have to help with the welding. Your call, kid.”

Seth stomped up to the truck, gave Billy the dirty look that was all-too-familiar to Jenny, and grabbed another couple of pipes.

“I carried metal when I was your age,” Billy called out after him. “Builds character.”

“Whatever.”

This time, Jenny did giggle. She should have been irritated that Seth was snotty to Billy, but honestly, it was a relief to know that he wasn’t like that only with her. And to know there were limits to Billy’s ability to charm the boy.

Even if there didn’t appear to be limits on how much he could charm her.

“What?” he asked over the lip of his cup.

“You’re better at this than I thought you would be.”

This hung out there for a moment. Truthfully, he was better at a lot of things than she would have given him credit for. Working with the kids. Managing Seth. Humoring Don.

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