A Rare Gift Page 3

Wyatt was there along with two other guys. She stayed out of sight and watched as he directed his employees.

If she thought he was gorgeous before, seeing him strip off his jacket and strap on a tool belt nearly made her knees buckle. There was something about a man who worked with his hands that was downright devastating to a woman’s libido—or at least her libido.

She walked over to him, and just seeing him put a giant smile on her face.

It was already noisy, his two laborers setting up the frame with hammer and nails. Wyatt was inside the small trailer he’d brought with him hitched to his truck. She stepped inside, knocking on the open door as she entered.

“Hey.”

He straightened, turned to her, frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking in to say hello. How’s it going?”

“It’s not going at all yet since we’re just getting started.”

He was good at pushing women away. Tori had told her he hadn’t dated at all since the divorce. It was time to put a stop to that.

“If you or the guys need anything, come on in to the center and the staff or I will fix you right up. There’s coffee or soda or—”

“We have everything we need right here.”

“Okay. I’ll let you get to work.”

He didn’t say anything, so she stepped out of the trailer and got back to doing her job. Other than listening to drilling and hammering, she mentally tuned him out. Kids were excellent for that. They commanded your attention and didn’t let you think of anything but them. By the time the last kid and the last of her employees left the center, it was six-thirty. She figured Wyatt and his crew would be long gone by then, but she was curious how much work they’d gotten done in a day, so she put on her jacket, closed and locked the doors and set the alarm, then headed around the corner to see what had been done.

It was dark, but the streetlight shed enough light on the project. They’d made a good start on the framing. She was impressed.

And Wyatt’s truck was still parked on the street, a light on inside the trailer. She went over and knocked on the door. No answer at first, then Wyatt opened the door, his typical frown on his face.

“What do you want?”

She stepped up and came inside. “I thought I’d stop by to take a look. You did a great job today.”

“Thanks.”

He stood there, arms folded. She skirted around him to see what he was working on at the table. “Are these the blueprints for the room?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

She leaned over the table. “Looks complicated.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I could never figure this out.”

His gaze met hers. “It’s not that hard. Look. This is the frame of the room. This is electrical…”

He outlined everything in the blueprint for her, not that she was paying attention. She was close to him and he smelled like sawdust and sweat, a lethal combination. She leaned closer and breathed him in, her shoulder brushing against his.

“Calliope.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

Fantasizing. “Trying to get a closer look. My prescription is old and I probably need to see an eye doctor to get new glasses, but I haven’t had time.” She bent closer to the blueprints—actually shifting closer to Wyatt.

“Any closer and you’re going to be on top of my desk.”

Wouldn’t that be fun? She wondered what Wyatt would do if she climbed on there? Would it give him ideas? She wished she had something sexier on—like a dress—instead of jeans covered in spilled chocolate milk and a sweatshirt baby Ryan had spit up on. Not an alluring ensemble at all.

Still, she wasn’t about to give up on him. She had her jacket zipped up to hide the spit-up and it was dark enough he might not notice the milk stain.

She turned around and leaned against the desk.

“Wyatt, do you ever date?”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Do you ever date? You know…women?”

Wyatt damn near swallowed his tongue. Where the hell had that come from? He’d thought she’d left and he could spend an hour or so going over the blueprints to make sure they were on track with this project. But then Calliope knocked on the door of the trailer, forced herself inside and then threw herself all over his blueprints, practically draping her body over him. Her scent drove him crazy. He was sure if he’d walk her through the outline of the project she’d be satisfied and leave.

Instead, her curls brushed his cheek, and her hip nudged his, and then she flipped around and leaned against his table, making him think thoughts he had no business thinking, like bending her over his drafting table.

Her green eyes mesmerized him, and then she asked him if he ever dated?

She was driving him out of his mind and it was only the first day of the project.

“Calliope…”

“No, really. I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but you don’t seem very happy.”

“Calliope, you need to leave.”

She didn’t look like she was going anywhere. She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Have you been out with anyone since you and Cassie divorced?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“That means no. Why not? It’s been three years.”

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“No. Why, do you?”

He wished he did.

“If you don’t, we could go out.”

He had no idea what to make of this woman. She was like a bulldozer. “What?”

“You know, go out. That thing you do when you’re single.”

“I know what it means. Are you asking me out?”

“Well, I wasn’t, but sure. Would you like to go out with me?” She wasn’t teasing or playing a game with him. She was honest to God asking him on a date. And she was beautiful and made his palms sweat and she was Cassandra’s sister and no way in hell was he going anywhere near her.

“No.”

He figured it would crush her. Instead, she cocked a brow, brushed an errant curl away from her cheek and continued to stand firm. “Why not?”

“You know why not.”

She took a step forward. He took one back, but the trailer was small and there wasn’t much room. He bumped the wall. She moved forward again and he was reminded of playing checkers with his brothers. He was backed into a corner with no place to go, and if he moved, he was going to be jumped by his opponent.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why that was such a bad idea, especially when Calliope moved into him, tilted her head back and stared him down with her deep green eyes.

“I can’t believe a big tough guy like you is afraid of a little thing like me, Wyatt.” Then she stepped back, her gaze traveling halfway down and staring at the part of him she had no business staring at. When she lifted her gaze again, she grinned.

“I know you have balls in there. Why don’t you try and find them? When you do, it’s your turn to come ask me out.”

She stepped out of the trailer and shut the door behind her.

Wyatt had never been so confused, confounded and downright irritated with a woman in his entire life.

No balls, huh? A man didn’t take an insult like that from a woman.

He’d show her balls.

No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t about to show Calliope anything, especially not his balls. If he was smart, he’d ignore her completely. She was his client, he’d been hired to do a job, and that was all he should do.

But no balls? He couldn’t let that one go.

No way in hell.

Chapter Four

“You told him he had no balls?”

Tori tilted her head back and laughed, making heads turn all around them.

Ensconced in the booth at Lodge by the Lake, their favorite outskirts-of-town restaurant, Calliope and Tori ate their dinner and had their weekly gossip and catch-up session.

“I did tell him that.”

Tori scooped up a forkful of pasta and slid it between her lips. A couple guys at the bar near their booth watched every bite Tori took. It always amused Calliope because Tori was gorgeous, with her flaming red hair and killer body. Men flocked to her, and Tori was immune. It was like she never even noticed men looking at her. Likely because she had the hots for Brody Kent, though Tori would never admit to it. She wasn’t sure why Tori wasn’t going all out for Brody. He was cover-of-a-magazine gorgeous, lean and sexy, and the two of them had combustible chemistry.

“So what did Wyatt say?” Tori asked.

“Nothing, because I never gave him the chance to respond. I just walked out of the trailer. That was four days ago and he and I haven’t spoken a word to each other since.”

Tori leaned back and took a long swallow of raspberry iced tea. “He’s avoiding you.”

Calliope nodded. “Like you wouldn’t believe. He doesn’t come inside the center at all, and whenever I pop outside to check on the progress of the addition, he ducks inside the trailer as if I caught him na**d or something.”

“That’s great,” Tori said. “You’ve got him on the run now. He must really like you. If he didn’t care, he’d tell you to kiss his ass, or even worse, he’d ignore you, shrug his shoulders and go about his business. You’ve got him rattled, girl.”

Calliope pushed her plate to the side and sipped her soda. “I’d like to think so. The man is simply too uptight for his own good.”

“Don’t I know it. I’m the one who has to work with him every day. He needs to get laid in the worst way.”

Calliope sighed. “I’d love to be the one to take care of that for him.”

“I have no idea why anyone would want to poke that bear. Get him all riled up and who knows what could happen.”

Calliope knew exactly what. Her fantasies ran amok with the possibilities. “I can only imagine. If he hasn’t had a woman since my sister, he’s got all this pent-up passion inside just ready to explode.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Calliope grinned. “No clue, but won’t it be fun?”

After dinner and girl talk, Calliope and Tori parted ways. It was still early and the weather continued to be unseasonably warm, so Calliope took a drive around the lake.

And, okay, maybe she was checking to see if Wyatt was home, since his house was near the restaurant. She drove by his house, the one he’d built for him and Cassandra.

Technically this could be classified as stalking, but what the hell. It wasn’t like she was going to knock on his door. She loved his house.

It was a beautiful place nestled at the foot of the hills, surrounded by lush forest and the lake off to the left of the house. He’d built the house for him and Cassandra thinking they’d never have to move again. A two-story, it was big, rustic and gorgeous, with blue-and-gray trim and white gables.

Cassandra hated the house. She’d said it was too big, too remote. She hated the woods that backed up to the house, claimed it would draw wildlife.

Well, duh. That was the idea. Calliope could imagine watching deer while sitting on the back porch drinking coffee. How awesome would that be?

Their marriage had ended before the house had been finished. Wyatt had completed it anyway and moved in. She was surprised he hadn’t sold the place. It was kind of big for one person.

She’d never known two people more wrong for each other. But both had been so stubborn and determined to make it work. That relationship had failure stamped on it from the get go. They’d wanted different things out of life, but Cassie had wanted Wyatt, and Wyatt had been head over heels in love with Cassie, so they’d both been blind.

His truck was parked in the driveway, and the garage door was open. Wyatt was in the garage, and since he’d looked up when she drove by, there was no sense in pretending he hadn’t seen her. She pulled in behind his truck and got out.

He was under the hood of a pretty sweet muscle car—a Chevelle, maybe? It was some kind of Chevy. It was beaten up and had seen better days, but shades of its former glory could still be seen in the parts Wyatt was restoring. She didn’t know a whole lot about cars, but she knew a great engine when she saw it. He’d already dropped that in and was working on sanding a fender, his body once again sweaty, greasy and smelling like motor oil.

What a turn-on.

“This is nice. Is it yours?”

“No, I stole it. I work part-time for a chop shop.”

She leaned against the wall of the garage. “You’ve got a bit of the smartass in you, Wyatt.”

He lifted the safety glasses from his eyes and glared at her. “You stalking me, Calliope?”

“Maybe a little. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Thank God you finally noticed.” He grabbed his can of beer and emptied it in three swallows.

Undeterred, she followed him into the house.

For a big place, it was ridiculously devoid of furniture. Sofa and chair in the living room, big-screen television and that was it. Small kitchen table with two chairs. Everything looked garage-sale quality.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed another beer. Just one.

“I’d love one. Thanks for offering.”

He frowned, then grabbed another and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She popped the top off her beer, waiting to see if he’d head back out in the garage. He didn’t, instead took a couple long swallows and leaned against the counter, so she grabbed a stool at the bar and opened her beer, sipped and swiveled around to take a look at the house.

It was stunning despite the lack of furniture. High ceilings with natural wood beams. Tile and pale wood floors. Rustic, charming, and though it needed a few rugs and some decent furniture, it looked as though it had been made with a man’s handcrafted expertise—someone who had taken their time and used a keen eye for detail, from the carefully constructed stone fireplace to the cornice at the bottom of the staircase.