Flirting With Disaster

“Fortunately for you I was interested in more than a great body. I love Cord for his mind,” Dinah said piously.

“Yeah, right,” Maggie retorted. “As I recall, Bobby Beaufort had a great mind. It wasn’t enough.”

“If you’re interested in Josh, I could introduce you.” Dinah offered, her tone casual.

“I’m a big girl. I can introduce myself,” Maggie said. “If I decide I want to.”

“If? You’re practically salivating now,” Dinah said.

“All the more reason to wait,” Maggie said. “I don’t want to appear too anxious. Besides, I’ve sworn off men, remember?”

“Maybe so, but can I assume that in the last five minutes you’ve experienced a miraculous recovery from your heartbreak over Warren?” Dinah inquired wryly. “It would be fitting if it took place here in a church.”

Maggie frowned at her. “Warren didn’t break my heart. He just put a dent in my ego and threw a monkey wrench into my self-confidence. None of that means I can’t appreciate a fine male specimen when I see one.”

“So you’re simply admiring the view?”

“Exactly.”

And to prove her point, Maggie waited to be the very last person in line to get her assignment for the start of construction next weekend. After all, nobody on earth recognized trouble as readily as she did. Why would she rush right into it?

And if waiting in line gave her a few more minutes to study Josh’s fine body, so much the better.

Josh had done his share of hiring and firing on the various jobs he’d held through the years. He’d been on the receiving end of more interview questions than most people here today combined. He approached the task of assembling this roomful of volunteers into a construction crew with guarded optimism.

So far he had twenty-seven people who’d never done a home repair more taxing that plunging a stopped-up drain, five who’d painted the interior of their homes, three who owned decent tools and one who’d actually worked construction—thirty years ago as a summer job. It was discouraging.

“Next,” he called out, already sliding a form across the table.

The well-manicured hand that reached for it immediately caught his attention. Long, slender fingers, silky-looking skin and nails painted fire-engine red. He sighed at the sight and snatched the form back almost before she’d put her fancy Mont Blanc pen to paper.

“You don’t need to fill this out,” he said, his dismay complete when he realized the owner of those hands was his last chance to complete a decent crew.

Dark eyes clashed with his. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because …” He glanced at the form she’d begun to fill in. “Ms. Forsythe, I’m assigning you to the lunch team.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice shook with indignation. “Did I hear you correctly? You want me to fix lunches?”

“And coffee,” he said, meeting her gaze for the first time. The fire in those eyes could have seared the paint off old lumber. It certainly sent a jolt through his system.

“What sort of macho head trip are you on?” she demanded. “I’m female, therefore I cook?”

“Works for me,” he said, gathering up the forms that had been filled out and trying not to meet that disconcerting gaze.

“Well, it doesn’t work for me, Mr. Parker. Dinah and Cord talked me into volunteering because they thought I could make a real contribution on this project, and I intend to do just that. I’ll be here on Saturday with my tools. I plan to use them.”

“You want to hammer a few nails after lunch, we’ll talk about it,” he countered. “Make sure there are plenty of sandwiches. Construction is hard work.”

Ms. Maggie Forsythe whirled around and stalked away. Josh had a hunch it was the last he’d see of her. That suited him just fine. The woman spelled trouble. The last thing he needed on this job was some hoity-toity society woman going crazy because she’d broken a fingernail.

Then, again, if she ever wanted to rake those nails down his back, something told him he wouldn’t say no.

“Do you realize that not one single person in that room has ever built anything bigger than a birdhouse?” Josh grumbled when he, Cord and Caleb went out for a beer after the meeting at the church. “How am I supposed to get this house built? I’ll be spending all my time fixing what they screw up.”

“Think of this as your chance to teach others the skills that have made you a great carpenter,” Cord said. “You’ll be sharing your knowledge. It’s a noble endeavor.”

Josh lifted his beer in a mocking toast. “Nice spin. You should go into PR.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stick to working with my hands,” Cord responded. “My brother’s the spin master.”

“All in all, I think it went really well,” Caleb said, appearing more relaxed now that the organizational session was over. “I think it will be exciting to build something substantial and enduring. In the end, despite whatever Winslow has up his sleeve, I think this project will be a unifying thing for the church. How long do you think the house will take to build?”

“With any luck, good weather and at least a few people on-site who are quick learners, Amanda and her kids should be in there by Thanksgiving,” Josh said. “The plans aren’t that elaborate or complicated.”

Cord chuckled.

Josh regarded him with a narrowed gaze. “Okay, what was that for?”

“You’re assuming that everything’s going to go according to the blueprints.”

“Of course I am,” Josh said. “That’s why we have them. What’s your point?”

“Let me ask you this. Did you meet Maggie Forsythe?”

Josh didn’t have to give the question that much thought. “Yeah, we met.”

“I don’t suppose you noticed that she’s … opinionated,” Cord said.

It had been a brief but definitely memorable encounter. “I noticed.”

“She’s bossy,” Cord added meaningfully.

“Doesn’t surprise me a bit,” Josh replied.

“She thinks it’s her duty to turn this from a bare-bones house into a home,” Cord concluded.

Josh ground his teeth. “If it’s not on the blueprint, it’s not happening.”

Cord and Caleb exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.

“Good luck with that,” Caleb said. “I don’t know her but I do know her reputation for getting her way.”

Josh didn’t like the implication that he didn’t stand a chance against Maggie Forsythe and her whims.

“You hired me to get this house built, right?” he said, his gaze locked with Cord’s.

“Absolutely.”