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The worst burn is how she so clearly views our night together as a huge mistake. I don’t regret a single second of feeling her come apart for me, and it’s salt on the wound that she’s not feeling the same.
I’m beyond grumpy, and I don’t plan to do a thing about improving my mood. I stalk around picking up more sticks and debris from the front yard, hoping that the simple action of moving around and not being idle will help me vent my frustration. I can’t bottle it up forever.
Hayes pulls in with a second truck following after him. I’m slightly impressed that he’s so punctual, but when he scans the place, I have a hunch he came running because he wants a look at Aubrey.
The men are here to clean up the huge tree, and with chainsaws in hand, they head out to the back. I’m used to dealing with contractors. I’ve flipped and renovated more buildings than this mountain local could only dream about. I’m clear and firm when I tell him about what I need. While I’m standing in for Caleb, I intend to do my best in seeing to the work that needs done.
“Keep the wood,” I say. “No need to arrange for a chipper. Marian will want to stack it and dry it out for firewood for the winter.”
“Hey,” one crew member shouts out as he gases his saw. “I’ll chop them logs for an extra fee, too.”
I shake my head. “No, I only want it cut into logs. Caleb will split it all.”
“The fancy, rich guy?” another crew member jokes.
I refrain from glaring at him. In their eyes, I’m the same, just another so-called fancy, rich guy.
Hayes laughs slightly, though, amused, and he gives me a look. I stare him down, daring him to make a joke about my friend—or me. Envying another for their wealth isn’t cool, and using the fancy label to belittle us is annoying.
He smirks, turning to relay the instructions and tasks to his men, in case they didn’t already hear me the first time. I don’t like this man. I don’t care for the way he’s needlessly repeating instructions, as though he needs to be seen as the one in charge. I don’t care for the way he’s quick to join in on making fun of my best friend, either.
Something rubs me the wrong way about this guy, and I won’t lower my guard around him.
“Got it?” I ask.
“Sure, sure.” Hayes grins too smugly.
“I’ll be around in case you need me.”
I walk off, but I don’t miss his chuckle. “I won’t need you. I want her.”
I halt mid-step and look ahead. Pausing to catch sight of Aubrey, the only person here he could’ve been referring to, I try to calm down and steady my breaths. I am aware he’s got his eye on her, but I do not like the tone he said that in. Like a stalker. Like a perv. Like a man who’s gunning for an easy lay and isn’t shy about it.
I can’t stand predatory men.
Aubrey is ignorant of my concerns. She continues sweeping on the front porch, clearing the smaller debris that blew up there from the storm. In a loose t-shirt and short shorts, she’s dressed to deal with the humidity that returned. I wasn’t aware mountains were ever muggy, but I recall Caleb’s comment about the weather being funky this summer. After the storm, maybe something wacky is going on with the air pressure. The heat came back, and I’m not loving it. Sweat has dripped down my back all day, and I figure this crew will need frequent water breaks as they deal with the big tree that missed the house.
“Dude,” Hayes says to one of his men. “I don’t think she’s even wearing a bra.”
The other crew member chuckles.
I see red. I fume, letting my anger fill me as I consider how crude this guy is. Aubrey probably isn’t the first woman he’s treated like this, but now that I’ve heard him directly, I want to pummel my fists on his smug face.
Turning quickly, grit my teeth and stalk right back up to him. Hayes is broad-shouldered, but I’ve got him in height. I bet it pisses him off to have to look up to meet my glare. He puffs out his chest and smirks again.
“What did you say?”
He scoffs. “You heard me.”
My businesslike and assertive demeanor snaps. I prefer to be quiet, but I have no qualms speaking up in a moment like this. “I didn’t call you here to talk about her like that.”
He crosses his arms. “Yeah. You called me here to cut up this tree.”
“Then do it. And shut up.”
“You can’t tell me what I can say.” He steps closer, trying to get in my face, but because he’s so short, the effort falls flat. “In fact, if you don’t like it, I’ll leave and let your delicate hands get dirty cleaning it up.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’d turn down work just out of spite? Because I’m calling you out on being disrespectful?”
