Proximity (2 page)

Eli rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his dusty jeans. "And the Ellisons. She's constantly having people over these days. Do I look like I want to be entertaining?"

Her lips twitched as she glanced him up and down. "No, not even a little bit. You're the one who should be cleaning yourself up and pouring yourself a Bourbon on the Rocks to boost your charm."

He laughed and returned the once over. "Are you going to get on the plane like that? It wouldn't kill you to fancy yourself up every now and then. Who knows? Maybe you'll meet my future son-in-law on this trip of yours."

"Right." She snorted before unbuckling the tool belt at her waist and walking toward her truck. Her last boyfriend had said something similar about her 'fancying herself up' to which she'd replied by deleting him from her phone contacts, unfriending him from social media sites, and blocking him from email. Everyone had their triggers and hers seemed to be anyone calling her a tomboy.

She was
not
a tomboy. She liked dresses and high heels like any girl, had once thought her life might be different, but as the oldest child of one of the most in demand general contractors in Texas, she had a legacy to uphold that involved jeans and work boots.

Again, apprehension trickled up her spine at the idea of leaving her father alone for a week. She twisted her head to see him limping over the work site, his tall lean form and weathered skin looking older than she'd noticed several months ago.

What if he dies?
She averted her gaze and brushed away the persistent thought. Would she keep up the business? Hadn't that been the plan? None of her three younger sisters would carry the burden, she knew that for certain. Busy with their husbands, toddlers, and social calendars, none of them understood why she chose to follow her father's footsteps. But she enjoyed getting dirty, slamming a nail into a piece of drywall, going toe-to-toe with obstinate men who challenged her role as 'boss lady', and being outside more days than not with the Texas blue sky as the only ceiling she ever noticed. She slid her gaze back to her father.
But what if he dies?

"What has you looking so serious? Aren't you headed off to the Caribbean?" Scott, the foreman for this job, peered around the edge of the truck. Blond hair and a perpetual grin, the man oozed good will. "Why are you still here?"

"I'm not the one with a family waiting for me like you and Pop. Aren't you supposed to be making sure he gets home in time for dinner? Mom is going to have your hide when she sees you." Savannah locked the toolbox in the back of the truck before walking toward the driver's door.

"Doesn't your plane leave in a few hours? You're not going to the airport like that, are you?"

"Why is everyone so damn concerned about what I'm wearing to sit on airplane for six hours?" She laughed as she pulled herself into the seat. "Hey, Pop!" She waved at her dad from the open window. "Get home now. You can't avoid being charming forever."

"Be safe, Girl!" Eli waved over his head and smiled. "Don't break too many hearts down there in Costa Rica!"

"Costa Rica?" Scott tapped the hood of the truck as he walked around to her side. "I thought you were headed to the Caribbean or Mexico or something."

"Not this time. We're cave diving, staying at a cool tree house resort in the jungle." She stared at her dad's back as he piled some lumber near the framed house. "Watch him, okay? I don't want him overdoing it. He acts like nothing's happened to him. I'm not sure he understands the phrase 'take it easy'."

"Like father, like daughter." Scott shook his head. "You and Barbara worry too much. He's good. Working makes him happy, being outside makes him happy, let him be. He likes being busy, feeling productive, don't you?"

She bit her lip, again doubting her decision to go with the club this time. She hadn't gone on a dive trip since before her dad's stroke and the itch for adventure drummed loud in her heart.

"Hey, Savannah." Scott snapped his fingers in front of her eyes to get her attention. "Go home. Shower. Change into something less coated with dirt. Have fun. Think you can handle that?"

She smiled before sliding her gaze again toward her father who had now stopped to stare at her with his hands on his hips. When he saw her looking at him, he shooed her with his hands and hollered something she couldn't understand.

"I've never felt so unwanted in my life, you two ungrateful sons of bitches," she yelled before winking at the foreman. "I won't have my cellphone so—"

"Don't need you. Go." He slapped the door before turning his back on her and walking toward Eli.

With a laugh, she shrugged away any doubts and drove away from the worksite toward her small house on the outskirts of Dallas/Ft. Worth that overlooked a lake. When she noticed the convertible Mercedes parked in the driveway, any second-guessing evaporated on a sigh.

Bill Evans knew how to fill out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Shaggy brown hair tossed over his eyes in the breeze as he held up a bag of take-out Chinese food and walked toward her from where he'd been lounging on her front porch swing as if he belonged there. Then again, they did spend more time together than with anyone else and he'd helped her hang that swing when she'd first moved in a few years ago. Seeing him saunter toward her with that mischievous grin, she couldn't resist laughing.

"Are you lost?" She jumped from the truck and pointed over her shoulder. "The airport is that way, my friend. You've always been GPS challenged."

"I thought you might need a lift and some encouragement to not leave us high and dry this time." He exchanged the bag of food for her toolbox, always the gentleman even though he knew she was fully capable of carrying her own things.

"Where's Lexi? I thought you had a date for this trip." She slid her gaze up his neck, over his grinning face, and locked on his hazel eyes that always danced with the promise of mayhem. "Let me guess...she heard we weren't spending all of our time at a swim-up bar and decided to pass?"

"Something like that, yeah." He adjusted his hold on the toolbox while she opened the front door. "You'd better hurry. Why are you so late?"

She peered into the bag and noticed the absence of eggrolls. "I see you were munching while you were waiting. Damn it, Bill, you know those are my favorite."

"You were late so..." He shrugged and motioned toward the hallway. "Get your ass in gear. We have a plane to catch."

"Believe me, I know. Everyone keeps making sure I'm well aware of that fact." She grabbed her carton of sweet and sour chicken, pulled a fork from the drawer, and jogged toward her bedroom. "Thanks for feeding me on the fly!"

"You need a keeper, Savannah! Someone's gotta make sure you're fed! Hurry up!"

She practically moaned at the taste of the food. She'd forgotten to eat all day because she'd been in such a frantic state of making sure all was in order before she left. With a sigh, she kicked off her boots and peeled her pants free. Deciding to do a quick wash over the sink, she rinsed off all the places in need and brushed her hair until all the tangles were removed. Satisfied that she didn't stink anymore, she tossed on some deodorant and pulled on a cotton dress that skimmed the top of her knees.

"It may not be fancy, but it's comfy," she muttered, thinking of her dad's words.

Shoving her feet into a pair of flip-flops as she jabbed her fork back into the carton, she looked up as Bill stepped into the doorway.

"I didn't hear the shower," he said, a strange look shadowing his face as he looked her over from head to toe. "You're ready? Where is your dive bag?"

"By the door." She grinned over a mouthful of sweet and sour.

"You're the only woman I know who can manage to look drop dead gorgeous in less than ten minutes." He turned his back on her and disappeared down the hall.

She chewed slowly, thinking that his words sounded more like an insult than a compliment. She dropped the carton in the trashcan before shoving a few more essentials into the duffel bag. Men. She spent her life surrounded by the species and still couldn't figure out their moods. Rolling her eyes, she went to meet him and was surprised to see him standing in the living room looking at a picture of their dive club taken during a New Year's Eve trip to Belize over a year ago.

"Alyssa and Luke missed you when you didn't show up at our reunion," he said without looking at her. "We're all invited to their wedding in the fall. Do you think you'll go?"

She stopped short and shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it."

He looked at her then, eyes filled with an emotion she couldn't identify. "One of these days you're going to need to let the past go, Savannah. How long do you think you can go through life avoiding weddings or commitments?"

"Whoa, where did that come from? You're awfully prickly. If we're going to go, let's go." She put their used forks into the dishwasher and started it while avoiding his piercing gaze. "I don't want to come home to dirty dishes."

"You're a walking contradiction—spend your days getting dirty, yet your house is immaculate. I'll never understand you."

"Probably not." She winked at him over the edge of the granite counter before taking a final look around the kitchen. "I still don't know why you met me here instead of the airport."

"I wanted to talk to you alone for a few minutes." He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, the movement stretching the material of his shirt tight across his chest. How a self-proclaimed computer nerd could look so damn hot all of the time baffled her.

"If this is about Lexi and whatever tall tale my sister Emily told her, I—"

"I don't give a damn about that."

Her grin faded. So Emily had spewed her theories, huh? Good to know whom not to trust. Strange how that list grew as she got older. "Listen, Bill, she's got it all wrong."

"Go to Alyssa and Luke's wedding with me."

"Where is this coming from?" She turned her back on him and preoccupied herself with making sure the faucets on the sink were tightened as far as they could go without snapping off.

The truth was she avoided events like weddings, no matter how much she liked the bride and groom. Once upon a time, in a reality that no longer seemed true, she'd fantasized about happily ever after; but then she'd grown up and witnessed the cruelty of the world.

On the eve of her own wedding over a decade ago, a week after graduating from Baylor University, her fiancé had shot himself in the head. His friends had found him when they'd arrived to take him to the bachelor party. She'd never forget that phone call or the crippling despair that had rendered her almost mute for months afterward. And all the accusations, the whispered innuendo that he'd rather die than be married to her...words she would never forget no matter how much time filled the void between then and now.

"Aren't we rushing to the airport? Late, late, remember?" She walked toward him and indulged in roaming her gaze over his solid body. Even though they'd cemented themselves into the friend zone long ago, she appreciated a hot guy like any other hot-blooded female. She took the picture of the Belize trip from Bill's hands, grinned at Luke and Alyssa, and placed it gently back on the end table. "I'm happy they're getting married."

"Then go with me to their wedding in September. I'm sure it will be fun."

She avoided eye contact while motioning to the door. "Let's go. We have a pending trip to get out of the way before we make plans for another. C'mon."

Needing to get out of here before changing her mind about the entire vacation, she walked onto the porch without him. She inhaled the spring air and exhaled the tension. Birds chirped in the trees, budding flowers cast their fresh scents in the breeze, and the scent of her neighbor's cut grass permeated the air.

"You're afraid of going to the wedding, aren't you? Think you might catch the bouquet and be on the hook yourself?" Bill loaded her bags into the trunk with his before holding the door open for her.

When she stepped past him to sit, she looked him in the eye. "We go on adventures every few months. Never say I'm afraid of something as silly as a wedding."

He smiled slowly before pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why, honey, you're reaction is a bit overblown," he drawled in that slow easy way he had that always stirred her blood into a frenzy. "Sounds like something you should talk over with a therapist."

She swatted him—hard—before sinking into the leather seat.

"You're the most infuriating man," she said while he adjusted his seatbelt.

"That's the consensus today." He winked before backing from her driveway. "You have sweet and sour sauce on your chin, by the way. You might want to fix that before—"

"Before we get to the airport, I know. Everyone is so damned concerned about what I look like on the goddamn plane." She pulled out her cellphone and used its camera to fix her face.

When he laughed, she did, too. Being with Bill relaxed her better than any stiff drink ever could. Looking at his profile with his smile and his shaggy hair that always reminded her of dark chocolate, the worries of only an hour ago evaporated on a sigh. Good friends were hard to come by and Bill ranked right up there with the best of them. She'd never do anything to jeopardize that.

"Here we come Costa Rica!" She raised her hands up in the air as he drove them down the freeway with the Dallas skyline already lighting up in the twilight.