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No one notices. Not a single damn man can see me jumping, waving my arms, and shouting. My throat is raw from shouting. Clearly, their ear protection is foolproof. Their noisy tools don’t help me either.
There’s nothing left for me to do but stomp over there and beg them to have some consideration.
“Hey!’ I shout grumpily at the first burly man I come across. He doesn’t turn off the drill, just peers up at me with raised brows.
“I’m talking to you!”
“What?” He scrunches his face, showing his struggle to hear me without considering shutting off his tool.
“For the love of…” I turn to see another man approaching. “Hey!”
He’s younger, and with every step that brings him closer, I see more of his handsome features. Tall, muscled, tanned, and with a sexy, smug smile.
He faces me, towering over me, and slips his sunglasses up to reveal striking green eyes that suggest he’s highly amused.
Still, I can’t help but lose my train of thought. I came over here to say something, but locking my eyes on this hunk, I clap my mouth shut and frown.
He runs his hand through his thick brown hair, and as he smiles deeper, showing me a dimple, he rakes his gaze up and down me, from my heels to my bed hair.
That does it. I will not let this construction idiot ogle me like that, like I’m some freak show interrupting his day. I don’t care how hot he is. I refuse to acknowledge how…aware of him that I am at first glance. And I don’t want to remember that these guys must be here doing their job for my cousin.
“How can I help you?”
Dammit, even his voice is sexy. Deep and husky.
I set my hands on my hips and breathe in deeply, gearing up to light into him. “I just got off a plane from Paris, and I can’t sleep with you all carrying on like this!”
He smirks, pissing me off even more, so I point at his face, making sure he hears me and knows I’m not anything to ignore.
“I’ve had a couple of really shitty, hellish weeks, so if you could keep it down out here, that would be great.”
Because I’m about to reach my breaking point, and I’m tired of staying strong to keep it together.
He extends his hand to me. “How about we start over with some manners this time?”
I look down at his calloused, dirt-covered hand and feel my lip curl in a scowl.
“I’m Sawyer Cameron. How can I help you?”
Chapter 4
Sawyer
I face off with the short, petite woman and hold back a smirk. She thinks she can come out here all full of fire and tell me to stop working? Snap her fingers and get her way? I know her type. I can tell just by looking at her that she’s one of those uppity, big-city rich women who thinks the world revolves around her.
I watched her pick her way over here. Tommy pointed out that the guest at the luxury cabin was waving her arms. At first, he thought she was trying to capture someone’s attention for the sake of having it. Women could be like that. This little blondie wouldn’t be the first I’ve come across, wanting to have men’s eyes on her for the thrill of knowing she was hot enough to turn heads.
Because she was. As she climbed down the wet steps at her cabin, then stumbled over the rocky dirt and clumps of mud between her lodging and the road we were putting in, she damn near teetered over and fell no fewer than a dozen times. I could give her credit for determination. Instead of stopping to preserve her fancy, pretty heels that made the trip far more treacherous than it normally might be otherwise, she charged ahead, not turning back until she could give us a piece of her mind.
I watched as she shouted at big old Barry, too, but he was tone-deaf to defiant women. He likely put up with enough crap from his three teenage daughters to want to hear this woman bitching at him while he was on the clock.
I took my time in approaching her, figuring she might cool down once she was no longer in danger of slipping or tripping on her walk here.
But no.
I stand before her for a moment, doing my best not to stare at her and make her any madder. She noticed when I lost control. My curiosity won out and yeah, I looked my fill. From her mud-crusted heels, up those shapely legs, past her trim waist, over her generous rack, and all the way up to her curly short hair, I took her in and sized her up. My diagnosis? She was hot, easily one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and with that defiant lift of her chin and the sizzling anger in her eyes, one of the boldest.
“I don’t care who you are,” she sasses back. “But you have to quiet down out here.”
