Built To Last (Saltwater Springs #1) (4 page)

S
carlett paced back
and forth in her would-be bakery, wringing her hands together. Growing tired of wearing a path in the concrete, she decided to check her make-up in the compact mirror she kept in her purse. Again.

She tried telling herself it wasn’t because she cared whether Luke still found her attractive or not, but she knew it to be a lie. She did care, but she shouldn’t. Nothing more could happen between them. She could never be what he needed—not anymore—nor could she bear to tell him the truth of what had sent her running from town a decade before. It would crush him, and she wasn’t sure she’d survive reliving that time in her life.

The bell above the door rang and Luke waltzed in wearing a plaid shirt similar to the one he’d worn the day before. Another pair of perfectly worn jeans clung to his hips and strong thighs.

“Can you hold the door for me while I bring some stuff in?” he asked stiffly.

She was going to have to stop staring at him like he was a steak dinner and she hadn’t eaten for a week. “Sure thing.” Scarlett reached the door a few seconds later, but he’d already headed back out to the pickup truck he’d parked in front of her shop. Apparently, there’d be no pleasantries this morning.

Luke came around from the back of the vehicle with a bunch of two-by-fours in tow. Scarlett wasn’t sure what he was doing given that she hadn’t told him exactly what she needed done yet. She opened her mouth to say something, but it was clear the load was heavy and he was concentrating on getting it through the doorway without impaling her with the wood. She’d wait until he was finished.

At last he appeared from the other side of the truck with empty hands, save for the toolbox he carried in his right. She stayed where she was, holding the door open so he could pass by, but he came to a stop beside her, reaching over her to place his hand on the door.

“Ladies first,” he said, motioning in front of him with his free hand.

“You have your hands full. You go ahead.”

“My mother raised me properly, and last I checked, only one of us here is of the female variety.” His eyes dipped down to her chest, causing her nipples to contract until they were as hard as stone.
Damn treacherous body.
His gaze widened for a moment then rose to meet her own.

Scarlett dipped her head, attempting to hide the blush that had crept into her cheeks, and entered the building, more than cognizant of Luke’s presence behind her. But then when hadn’t she been intimately aware of his proximity? It seemed even a decade apart hadn’t changed that.

She cleared her throat. “What’s all this?” She nodded toward the large pile of wood in the middle of the store.

“That’s what we’re going to use for the framing.”

She cocked a hip and crossed her arms. “We haven’t even discussed what I want done here.”

Luke arched a brow and gave her an intense stare. “Save your Southern sass, woman. I took the liberty of assuming you wanted walls.”

Scarlett’s face heated. “You assumed correctly,” she replied in a small voice, a little abashed. Now she felt foolish. And a little like a bitch for even questioning him when he was the one going out of his way to help her out. Though she still hadn’t figured out why. She would’ve put money on the fact that he hated her after she’d left town without a word all those years ago. But that kiss yesterday sure didn’t make it seem like that was the case.

She had to stop thinking about that kiss—it was a one-time thing and wouldn’t happen again. It was leftover emotion from two people who hadn’t gotten any closure. That was all.

“Look, we’re going to discuss what you want done here. But the inside walls all need to be framed anyway, so I stopped on the way here to pick up the wood. No big deal.” He shrugged.

“So, where do you want to start?” Scarlett asked, just wanting to get past the awkwardness of that particular moment.

“Let’s do a walk-through and you can tell me what you’re envisioning. I’ll take some measurements and make some notes, and we can talk about a budget.”

Scarlett gulped, swallowing the humiliation eating away inside at letting herself be conned by that contractor and losing most of her money. She nodded to Luke in short, sharp movements and made her way to the back of the store.

“These boxes contain most of my kitchen equipment. I picture all that back here with a counter over here.” She motioned behind her and walked the length of where she thought the counter should go. “Obviously, the kitchen will need to be closed off from the area up front. I need the display case to go here”—she pointed out the area—“and then I picture a bunch of little bistro tables near the entrance for people that want to come in and stay for a bit.”

Scarlett glanced around the large, open space, visualizing exactly the way she wanted it to be. She’d paint the walls a warm color that complemented the hardwood floors she wanted to have installed. She smiled to herself, so deep in thought that for a moment she forgot Luke was there. Blinking a few times, she glanced over in his direction.

He stood with his feet hip-width apart, arms crossed over his broad chest. The look in his eyes was almost her undoing. He gazed at her with such reverence and awe. Not only did she not feel deserving of it—especially from him, of all people—she didn’t understand it.

“What?” she asked in a soft whisper, still drawn in by his eyes and unable to look away.

“I’m glad to see you still enjoy baking.” A small, sad smile formed on his lips.

Luke had been one of the few people in her life aware of her passion. Growing up, the few times she’d shown an interest in baking at home, her mother had shooed her out of the kitchen, insisting it was the staff’s job to prepare the food, not hers.

Luke’s mom had allowed her to use their kitchen to try out different recipes, even sharing some of the ones that had been handed down in his family over the years.

His voice interrupted her reminiscing. “I remember you made me your chocolate brownie cheesecake bars once. Those things were to die for.” He grinned at her and laughed. The memory seemed to have warmed him up to her. Gone was the chilly reception she’d received when he first arrived.

Scarlett remembered that day. They’d been playing house over at his mom’s while she was working at the diner, and who knows where his dad had been—off on a bender, more than likely. Luke had almost finished the entire plate on his own. At one point, he’d smeared some of the batter on her nose and she’d returned the favor. In the end, they’d found themselves undressing on the kitchen floor, pawing at one another until they’d made love right there, surrounded by baking sheets and bowls full of batter.

Heat poured into the juncture of her thighs and she pressed them together, hoping to ease the ache. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her body’s reaction to Luke to dissipate. She needed his help, and though he seemed like he was trying to put the past behind them, she was certain that if he knew what had happened all those years ago, he wouldn’t be so quick to forgive.

She opened her eyes to find his intense gaze roaming her body. “I also remember what happened afterward.” He dropped his arms to his sides and removed the distance between them in a few strides until he stood in front of her, almost pressed up against her body.

“You do?” She shouldn’t have asked, but a small part of her was thrilled that being with her had made enough of an impression that he could recall it a decade later.

“I remember every detail…of every time we were together.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Memories are all I’ve had to soothe me for ten damn years,” he said with a note of sadness to his voice, then turned and began measuring the space.

Scarlett was more than familiar with the feeling…and that’s what made this situation so bittersweet.

A
fter a couple
of hours they’d managed to plan out the renovation and measure the entire bakery so that Luke could begin to frame the inside walls and the kitchen area. Once he’d dragged his Skilsaw in from his truck and set up the sawhorses, he turned to Scarlett.

“Don’t suppose there’s much chance you know how to use one of these?” He raised an eyebrow, motioning to the dormant Skilsaw.

“Didn’t have much need for them in the accounting office, sorry.” She shrugged.

“No time like the present to learn.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened to the size of those chocolate macadamia cookies she used to make, and she stepped back a few paces. “Maybe I could measure and you can cut.”

“Come on. I’ll show you how.” He waved her over. “Nothing to it.”

She tried putting up a brave front, but Luke knew her better than that—the tense set of her muscles and the way she pressed her lips together were telling. “What if I cut a limb off or something? I happen to like all the parts of my body right where they are, thank you very much.”

Luke gave her a once-over, starting from her dark, glossy locks all the way down her shapely legs. “I’d have to agree that everything looks good right where it is. But if we’re going to have any chance of finishing this place on time, I’m going to need your help with this.”

She chewed the tip of what he’d have expected would be a perfectly manicured fingernail, though he noticed with surprise that Scarlett’s nails were all cut short and unpainted. “I don’t know…” she finally said.

“The Lettie I used to know would’ve taken the challenge on headfirst and not let a little fear stop her. Don’t tell me city living made you soft.” There it was. He’d managed to light that fire he knew had to still be in there somewhere. He recognized the spark in her eyes as soon as he’d issued the challenge.

With a huff, she stomped over to the saw and stood in front of it with her hands on her hips. “Fine. Show me what I’m doing here.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But if I lose a finger, I’m forcing you to take me to the hospital. And you should know that I plan to bleed all over your truck on the way there.”

Luke chuckled and stepped over to the wall to measure the height and width he wanted for the framing. Then he pulled his tape measure off his toolbelt and extended it, marking on a piece of wood where it would need to be cut before double-checking his measurements.

“I thought you were going to show me how to use this bad boy.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Scarlett gesturing to the piece of machinery in front of her.

Luke had to bite his tongue to refrain from making some caustic remark about how she’d already used a bad boy a decade earlier. He’d managed to put what happened behind him years ago and get on with his life…make something of himself. His latent anger at the situation seemed to boil up without notice at the strangest times.

“Measure twice, cut once. First rule of carpentry.”

Scarlett simply nodded as he made his way toward her with the piece of wood in his hands. “Here, hold this,” he said, passing her the two-by-four when he reached her.

Luke got down on his haunches to retrieve the pair of safety glasses he’d brought with him. He shoved a pair onto his own face then stood and pushed the clear glasses onto her face gently, not missing the way her pupils dilated as he did so. He stood for a moment, gazing at her and wondering where things had gone wrong between them, then cursing himself for it.

The past was the past, and there was nothing he could do to change it. That’s what he told himself, but the truth of it was that he now felt this pressing need to know why she’d left so abruptly all those years ago. By his account, they’d been happy—hell, they’d talked many times about settling down and having a family together, as insane as that was given Lettie’s age at the time.

Scarlett’s breath grew shallower, and it seemed as if she were waiting for him to make the next move.

“You’re going to need to pull your hair back,” he said, not moving his gaze from her irresistible eyes.

She swallowed, then pushed her free hand into the pocket of her jeans and removed a hair tie. He reached for it, and when his fingers grazed her skin, Scarlett inhaled sharply.

“Turn around.” She did as he asked without commenting. Seemed the decade apart had changed
some
things. Back in the day, she’d never been able to take orders without some type of sass coming from her mouth.

Luke gathered her hair up at the crown of her head and smoothed out the bumps as best he could. The scent of cherry blossoms wafted from her ebony hair and he bit back a groan. Pulling the hair elastic up from his wrist, he secured her hair into a ponytail. He only knew how to do it because he’d had to help Gabbie with her hair when his mother wasn’t feeling up to it. His niece wasn’t easily impressed and had forced him to redo his work on more than one occasion.

Luke noticed a freckle at the base of Scarlett’s neck. He squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered how many times he’d kissed that exact spot when they were kids, and how much his Lettie had liked it.

He patted her shoulders lightly. “You should be good now.”

Scarlett turned toward him again, flushed in the face, and Luke took the lumber from her. She appeared to be as flustered as he was. “Should I bother asking how you got so good at putting ponytails in girls’ hair?” She’d tried to keep her voice light, but Luke detected anxiety underlying her question.

He cleared his throat. “Probably not.” His situation with his mom and his niece wasn’t something he wanted to get into with her—and certainly not right now.

“Okay then, how do I look?” she said in a joking manner, pushing her chin up into the air and batting her eyelashes several times.

“Perfect,” he said quietly. He paused for a moment before adding, “Like always.” Luke held her gaze.

The smile fell from Scarlett’s face and he immediately regretted his comment. He didn’t seem able to help himself when she was around. This was going to be the longest damn project ever if he couldn’t get himself in check around her.

Time to get things back on track. “Pick the saw up by the handle with one hand.”

She did as he asked, seemingly happy to go along with the ruse that he hadn’t just been completely inappropriate with her. She winced when she lifted the tool’s full weight. “Oh my God, this thing is heavy.”

“For a young thing like you? Give me a break.”

“Says the big, muscular guy,” she retorted.

“Seems someone needs to work on her fitness.” He winked at her before taking a step closer.

After he’d gone through all the safety elements of the saw, Scarlett still looked petrified to touch the thing. He passed it back over to her anyway. She reluctantly took it from him and held it out from her body. He chuckled to himself because her stiff posture reminded him of the first time he’d held his niece. Gabbie had been so tiny, and he’d held her about as far away from his body as humanly possible. Oh, how times have changed. Now he coveted the times she would sit still long enough to cuddle with him.

Luke placed the piece of wood across the sawhorses. “First thing you need to do is bend over and look down the right-hand side of the blade. See the notch on the left side?” Scarlett looked to the front of the saw until she found what he was referring to and then nodded. “Line up my pencil mark with that notch.”

She did what he asked, taking only a moment to get the saw in place. “Okay, I think I have it.”

“Place your left hand on the piece of wood away from where you’re cutting, but close enough that it’s comfortable.” She did as he instructed. “Good, just like that. Now you’re ready to cut.”

Luke moved to stand beside her. Scarlett was nervously biting her lip. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She glanced up to him, her eyes almost pleading with him not to force her.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the spitfire of a woman she’d been blossoming into before she left town. Not only had she lost some of her Southern accent during her time away, but apparently she’d also lost some of her “hear me roar” attitude. What had shaken her confidence so much that she questioned her abilities? His stomach twisted at all the different scenarios running through his mind that could have made that possible.

“I’ll help you with the first cut.” Luke positioned himself behind Scarlett and leaned over her bent frame, placing his hand over hers. Her soft hand twitched underneath his for a second and then settled. “All right, the key is to keep an eye on the saw base as you cut and to push with enough force that the saw keeps moving through the wood, but not so fast that the saw seems to slow down. Sound good?”

She nodded, the movement of her body shifting her hips ever so slightly—enough that he became painfully aware of his crotch’s proximity to the juncture of her thighs. He shifted his weight, trying to get comfortable in pants that were becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Scarlett’s whole body tensed underneath him.

With a deep breath, Luke decided the best course of action was to ignore her response to being so physically close to him, even though her rigidity further twisted the knife she’d dug into him a decade earlier, leaving him wanting to question why he was never good enough.

Scarlett cleared her throat. “Let’s get this over with.” Her words dug the knife in deeper. “Once I have the first one under my belt, I’m sure it will get easier.”

Maybe that’s all he’d ever been to her—a notch in the proverbial belt for experience sake. He’d never thought he was just a good time to her, but she’d left him questioning everything. “Turn the saw on then, and I’ll help you guide it,” he said in a brusque tone.

The sound of the blade whirling against the side of the wood cut through the silence in the storefront and Scarlett jerked a bit, startled, bumping into him.

Not at all helping the situation below his belt.

Luke lightly squeezed her hand below his, indicating that she should push the saw forward. As she did, bits of wood and sawdust bounced up and into the air. Five seconds later, the small piece they’d cut fell to the ground and the saw’s rotation started to slow.

The noise died down, and Luke was about to congratulate Scarlett on making her first cut when a shrill voice rang out from behind them.

“Well, well. Isn’t this cozy? Still trying to sleep your way into high society, are you, Luke?”

Marlena Gibbons.

Luke leaned in to speak directly into Scarlett’s ear through gritted teeth, “You’ve really got to start locking that door.”