if you didn’t count getting cleated, or that one time his nose had gotten broken. He was just working his pant leg up over the scrape when he heard the car coming down the road.
Allie. He pushed the pant leg back into place and stood next to his truck, hoping she’d keep going past him. No such luck. She pulled up beside him and rolled down her window.
“Done with the roof I see.”
“Just finished.” He picked up the drill, noticed the blood on his fingers and hoped she didn’t. “I found this in the main part of the building.”
“How?”
“Wasn’t easy.” Not only that, it’d hurt. He nodded at the tool. “It’s got some value to it and I was wondering, if you don’t have a sentimental attachment because it was your dad’s or something, if I could buy it for my old man.”
“I don’t see why not.”
He started to smile, but it stalled out as her gaze dropped and then fixed on his lower leg, where the blood was gluing his pants to his skin. When she brought her gaze back up to his, there was a question in it, and he could see that she didn’t expect to have to ask that question out loud.
“I had a mishap while getting the drill.”
“You’re the second beat-up guy I’ve dealt with today.”
“Who was the other?” And were you responsible?
“My ex. He got into a car wreck.”
“Nothing too serious, I hope.”
“Broken ribs, black eyes. He’s hurting, but nothing life-threatening. He was lucky.” She said the words in a way that did not invite further comment. “Do you want to go to the house and clean up your leg, or what?”
Well, yeah, he did. “I don’t want to bleed all over your place.”
“Won’t be the first time,” she said. She jerked her head toward the passenger side of her car, but he shook his head.
“I can walk a hundred yards.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Walking is easier than getting into your car.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows lifted as she considered his size compared to the space available in her tiny passenger seat. “I guess so. And here I thought that you were going all macho on me.”
“I know,” he said with a half smile. She did tend to think the worst of him and he might have to do something about that.
She waited for him at the gate and then he followed her into the house. She gestured for him to wait in the living room and then walked through the kitchen into the adjoining mudroom. She came back with a plastic bucket of neatly folded terry-cloth towels with gauze pads and athletic tape resting on top. She held out the pail with a small shrug. “Vet bucket. All the towels are clean and bleached. You can get them as bloody as you want.”
“Thanks.”
“I hope you don’t mind using the same towels used for animal emergencies, but like I said, they’re clean.”
He raised his hand. “No. Honest. I’m good with it. Glad I don’t have to make do with wet paper towels.”
‘That was kind of what I was thinking. I usually use duct tape with the animals, but I thought you might be more comfortable with athletic tape.”
A joke. Cool.
She pointed the way to the bathroom and Jason headed down the hall, bucket in hand. He casually glanced back before he opened the door. Allie hadn’t moved, but her chin jerked up as he met her gaze. He lifted an eyebrow and then walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Allie Brody had been staring at his ass.
WELL, THAT WAS the very first time ever she’d been caught ogling a guy’s ass and it had happened in her living room.
Allie scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. That’s what she got for giving in to temptation. What was it with this guy? Why was he her Kryptonite?
Okay. No big deal. Surely she wasn’t the only woman he’d ever caught staring at him, but...this was different. She was his employer. He was her employee. Temporarily, but all the same.
But what it really came down to was that it was Jason Hudson, whom she’d thought of as an arrogant jock and who was turning out to be much more together and pleasant than she’d ever expected.
And attractive. Don’t forget attractive.
How could she? He was right there. Being attractive.
She wasn’t comfortable being attracted to him because that wasn’t part of her go-it-alone-and-be-secure plan. She’d had enough heartache over the past several years. Being alone equaled no more heartache.
Being attracted meant being tempted to not be alone, which in turn tempted heartache.
Allie lifted her chin and headed off for the kitchen, where she went to the sink and poured herself a glass of water. Maybe if she hydrated, she could gain control of her hormones. She took a long drink.
Yes. Better.
Or maybe it was the fact that there were now a couple of walls and a healthy distance between herself and the guy with the great ass.
Allie emptied the glass, then opened the dishwasher and started putting the dishes into the cupboard, resolutely pulling her thoughts away from Jason until she heard the bathroom door open and her nerves jumped. Jason’s tread was heavy on her old wood floors and each step made her heart rate speed up just a tiny bit more.
Then the steps stopped.
Allie froze, wondering what he was doing, until he started moving again and she busied herself arranging glasses in the cupboard. Unaware. Unaffected. Yes. That was her.
“I didn’t know you painted,” Jason said as he came into the kitchen, carrying the bucket in one hand and the soiled towels in the other. His pant leg was soaked from the knee down, where he’d washed the blood out of it. Just looking at it made Allie feel a little clammy. Wet jeans were never comfortable.
Nor was facing the guy who’d caught her checking him out.
“I don’t paint,” she said matter-of-factly. “Not anymore. It was just a...phase.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her in an expression that said he’d like to know more, but wasn’t going to ask—probably because of her forbidding expression. “I only used one towel, but I did a number on it. Where should I put it?”
She gestured toward the mudroom and he followed her to the washing machine. She lifted the lid and he dropped the wet, bloody towel inside.
“I’m sure there’ll be more to follow,” she said
