Built For Love

Built For Love Chapter 4

She doesn’t trust me and I can’t blame her. As a single woman,she’s probably learned all men are sharks or worse. I don’t mind her being wary of the male species. Hell, she can keep her guardup around them at all times—except for me. For me, her guard should be on the floor along with her clothes. But I’m realistic. I know that’s not happening within the next thirty minutes. After that, though, who knows? Fortune favors the bold. “You need some help?” I holler through the closed bedroom door. I can’t hear any activity because the walls in here are solid even if the place is more run-down than a country rest stop. The bones of this old building

are good. It has a solid brick exterior, thick and straight walls, and high

ceilings. Renovated properly, we could sell this for a good amount of

money. I was stubborn not wanting to do business with Walker.

“If you’re bored, feel free to move on,” she yells back. “Not in this lifetime,” I respond.

The door flies open and a skeptical Pepper appears with her laundry

basket propped against her waist. She has emptied it of her clothes and put a bunch of knickknacks in there like books, candles, and a couple of pillows. “I’m ready,” she tells me. “That’s all you’re taking?” I look around her frame and see the bedroom mostly intact. She’s barely packed enough for a sleepover, let alone to move out. Did she mishear me? “You left most of your stuff here,” I point out.

“That’s right, because I live here and since I don’t even know if I want

to stay at the place you’re putting all the tenants while this building is being renovated, I’m not about to go through the hassle of boxing everything up more than once. This is all I need for a few days.”

“It’s going to take more than a few days to renovate this place.” The

plaster on the ceiling is cracked and peeling and who knows what kind of disasters are waiting inside the walls? Besides, since Pepper will be moving in with me, I foresee this being the longest renovation I’ve ever done. It

might take months instead of weeks or however long until she is convinced that she needs to be in my bed on a permanent basis.

“What all are you planning to do?” she asks. Her tone is suspicious, as

if she can read through my façade of helpful handyman to the predator

underneath—the one that wants to strip her bare and f**k her raw on that soft mattress right over her shoulder. I wonder what position she likes the best. Then I frown. She should not have any favorite position yet because that would mean another man has touched her. I guess that’s why I’m good

with a backhoe. I’ll find him, kill him, and then bury him with my heavy

construction equipment.

“If it’s some big secret, don’t tell me,” she says, pushing by me. I grab

the laundry basket from her hands and follow her out. “It’s not. In fact, you can help me if you’d like.”

She stops at the door. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’re a designer, so why not help me out?” I warm to this idea. Beck might not like it, as he has a thing for Marist, the on-staff

designer for our company, but I don’t see any problem with having two

people working for us. Beck’s been wanting to expand the scope of our

projects, and if I can rope Pepper into helping me, then Marist can be freed up to do the corporate building that Beck wants. In corporate Beck-speak, I think we’d call that a win-win proposition. I grin widely at my genius. “What do you say? I’ll knock your rent down.” “By how much?” She’s interested. My smile grows wider. I’d say free,

seeing as she won’t be having any rent at all since she’ll be living with me from now on, but I throw out a number that seems reasonable.