Chapter Two
Cress
About five minutes into my wait, I was whistling my way through “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider” when a lifted, big-ass four-wheel-drive truck pulled into the driveway of Hot Constance’s house.
Pausing before the rain could wipe the spider out, I frowned and leaned forward to peer out the front windshield.
“Well, who do we have here?” I murmured to myself.
The dude who climbed from the truck sported a gray T-shirt, black jeans, black leather jacket, and tan construction worker boots. I nodded because, oh yeah, he looked like he could be a construction worker. Big rough frame, not shaved but not yet beard status either, dark hair that spiked out, and a don’t-f**k-with-me look about him.
Mmm. Yes. There was just something utterly delicious about construction workers. They were
