Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

E mmerleigh

By the time I called it a day, I was covered head to toe in sawdust. Pretty sure there was some inside my nasal cavities tickling my brain, even though I'd worn a respirator, earplugs, and safety goggles as I sanded the wood floors in Warrick's mom's house. My body ached, especially my low back, from being on my knees and bending over the sander. It was a good kind of ache though. The kind that symbolized an honest day's work.

It was the sight of Georgia on Warrick's shoulders as they walked back from talking to Bessie that created the ache between my ribs. Georgia had a wildflower tucked into her light hair and Warrick was mooing like a cow as he trotted back to the house with those tough-guy tattoos lining his arms. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

And somehow hotter than any man I'd ever seen.

Georgia had never interacted for any length of time with a man. Clearly Cayden had been absent as a father figure and my own father had passed long before I even entered high school. Dating had been the furthest thing from my mind as a new mom, reeling from a breakup, and trying to start her own business. I gave my everything to my precious girl and had believed it was enough. When Georgia pulled on Warrick's ears and whooped, "Louder, Wa-wy!" a part of me wondered if maybe I'd been delusional. Maybe all those books about the importance of a father figure were right.

My spine stiffened. I forgot about the aching muscles and the sawdust infiltrating human spaces not designed for minuscule shavings of wood. My boots thudded down the porch steps to intercept them.

"Time to go home, Georgia," I snapped, general contractor voice in full effect.

Warrick stopped on a dime, his gaze studying the entire length of my body before he patted Georgia's leg and shifted her to one shoulder. As she slid down to the ground, he got her there safely before standing upright. The smile that had been on his face was gone. A stab of guilt hit but I quickly pushed it away. I only had enough time and attention to care about one other human and that would always be Georgia. Warrick was an adult. He could manage his own happiness.

Georgia, not sensing my anger or perhaps just ignoring it, plucked the flower from her hair and held it up as she toddled over. "For you, Mama! Wa-wy has a whole field of flowers!"

Breaking the staredown with Warrick, I accepted the flower and squatted down to hug my girl. She squealed, pulling away and sticking out her tongue.

"Yucky, Mama! You all gross!"

That got an honest grin from me. Standing back up, I avoided Warrick's stare as I hustled Georgia to the back seat of my truck where I'd wrestle with the car seat yet again. I felt Warrick's attention on us the whole time and even that irritated me. The man had been kind enough to watch my child and I knew I should be grateful, but an even bigger part of me was unsettled.

Unsettled seeing Georgia with a man.

Unsettled knowing he'd been able to enjoy a day playing with my daughter when I couldn't afford to take a whole day off to spend with her.

And if I was really honest with myself…unsettled that some ancient female part of me had perked up at the sight of my daughter and Warrick having fun together. For just a split second, I'd allowed myself to imagine he was Georgia's father and I was his wife and I could trust a man in our lives.

I really needed to save the fairy tales for the stories I told Georgia at bedtime.

"Tomorrow?" Warrick said from behind me, right before I stepped into the truck.

"Yep," I tossed over my shoulder and then shut the door, cranking the engine. Warrick watched us the whole time I backed down the driveway. I pretended I didn't see him.

Georgia spent the rest of the evening telling me every single thing she and Warrick did, along with commentary about flowers, cow patties, and butterflies. I tried not to dwell on the jealousy and tension that flared each time she called him Wa-wy in her sweet little voice. By the time I put her down for bed, her eyes were drooping and she only demanded I read her short book twice before she said goodnight.

I padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water before bed. Checking my phone, I saw I had a single voicemail from someone named Pearl Pippin in response to the advertisement I'd posted all over social media this morning, looking for subcontractors. Her voice was heavily accented but I was able to make out the gist of her message. She lived over in Auburn Hill and was looking for work. I called her back immediately and got her voicemail. I hired her on the spot and told her the address to come to tomorrow morning. I'd only hired one other female subcontractor before, but that had been in my prior life. I hoped this Pearl Pippin would be just as good. Lord knew I needed help with this project to get it done in time.

Finally sawdust-free and ready to give my muscles a solid seven hours of no movement, I sat on the edge of my bed and stretched my back. A hard knock on the front door had me flying down the hallway, rest forgotten. If whomever was here woke up my kid, they were about to get an earful. When I swung open the front door, it was just a stranger walking back to his car on the street. I opened my mouth to shout at him, but didn't want to wake up Georgia if the knock hadn't. Also, a fluttering sheet of paper nailed to my front door caught my attention. I ripped it off and scanned it, heart leaping into my throat.

It was a letter from my landlord, John Walter.

Telling me I had fourteen days to vacate the premises as he intended to sell the house.

I sank down to the porch floor just big enough for a single chair and one potted plant, not that I'd had enough time in this house to go out and purchase either. That motherfucker was selling the house? The one I'd just gotten unpacked in? The one Georgia was settling into so well? I tipped my head back, my skull thumping the doorframe. I had to squeeze my eyes shut tight to control the burning. I would not cry. I would not cry.

How many times as a single mother had I felt overwhelmed and defeated these last five years? Probably too many to count. If I cried every time, I'd be chronically dehydrated. I'd walked dogs and cleaned bathrooms with Georgia strapped to my chest when I couldn't find handyman work. I'd spent nights patting her back and walking the hallways when she was teething, giving up sleep to comfort my daughter. I'd watched her father build his contracting empire on the back of my hard work and then let him fire me when I got too pregnant to work. If all that hadn't killed me, this would not defeat me either.

I showed up at the crack of dawn, a sleepy Georgia in my arms as I knocked on Warrick's door. Dark circles under my eyes showed how little sleep I'd gotten last night, doing mental gymnastics to figure out how to best proceed. I needed that bonus, but I needed a full crew to get it done. I needed to move to a new house, but needed the time to house hunt and pack my belongings. I needed to spend time with my daughter, but I also needed her damn preschool to open back up.

And right now, I just needed a cup of coffee and a fucking break.

Warrick swung open the door, his large frame taking up the whole space and sucking the oxygen from my lungs. Dear God, the man had on low-slung pajama pants in some sort of silky gray material that should be illegal on hot men. I had zero interest in a man in my life and yet even I perked up at the sight. Didn't help that his T-shirt was as rumpled as his hair and a pillow indentation marked his scruffy cheek. Holy shit, even the sprinkling of silver hair on his chest had me breathing funny.

"Morning, Em," he said, voice scratchy and deep.

A full-blown shiver stole across me before Georgia stirred on my shoulder and reminded me of where I was. Warrick was a client. And I was a mom with only one interest: finishing this damn job on time.

"Wa-wy?" Georgia asked sweetly, rubbing her eyes.

"Sorry I'm early. Just wanted to get started before my subcontractor gets here." I shifted Georgia, but Warrick must have thought I wanted him to take her. He reached out and plucked her from my arms, spinning around and already getting a giggle out of her.

"Have you ever heard a rooster crow?"

Georgia clapped her hands on his cheeks and rubbed her palms against his stubble. The two already looked cozy together. And I was absolutely not jealous of my own daughter. Nope. Not me. I followed them inside, planning to distract myself with a cup of coffee before I got started. I swung the door shut behind me, but it was intercepted with a dull thud.

"The dumpster eez here," bellowed the largest woman I'd ever laid eyes on. I stood frozen in my tracks, taking in the skintight jeans, tucked-in T-shirt advertising a beer festival, and the slicked-back bun a ballerina would envy. I'd bet my life's savings this woman stood over six feet tall and at least three feet wide. "To be clear, the dumpster eez not me."

Warrick and Georgia were frozen behind me. Took me another second to click it all into place.

"Pearl?" I asked, finally finding my tongue.

My new subcontractor took a step forward and I swore the house shook. "Yes. But I go by Pip, not a stupid oyster hemorrhoid."

I blinked, thinking maybe I'd heard her wrong. Her German accent was quite thick. When she merely stared back at me and Warrick's chuckle rippled through the silence, I quickly held out my hand.

"I'm Em. Thanks so much for your help. Coffee before we get started?" I gestured over my shoulder to the kitchen.

Pip, her face devoid of makeup and set in a hard grimace that looked like it just might be her natural resting face, shook her head. Not one hair dared to slip out of the bun.

"You go. I will load the toilet into zee dumpster to warm up."

She marched out of the house, the thick white soles of her tennis shoes somehow making more noise than my steel-toed boots. I watched her go, wondering who, exactly, I'd just hired. I was used to being the female ballbuster on jobs, but I had a feeling I'd just been upstaged.

"She seems fun," Warrick said dryly, making Georgia laugh, not because she understood the joke, but because everything Warrick said made her giggle.

Shoulders slumping, I follow Pip outside. I had my pride to thank for missing out on coffee. A subcontractor couldn't work harder than me. I wouldn't allow it. Pip tossed the toilet into the newly delivered dumpster I'd rented like she frequently competed in strong women competitions. She belched and turned to the bathroom vanity.

"Here. I'll take the other end," I offered, stepping into place.

Pip shrugged. "If you want."

I picked up my side and gritted my teeth when my back barked at me from all the sanding. "I want."

We got the rest of the bathroom demo into the dumpster and then attacked the second bathroom. Not only could Pip swing a sledgehammer like a professional lumberjack on steroids, she liked to sing bawdy drinking songs while she did it. Some in English, some in German. I mostly stayed out of her way and made sure the kitchen was ready for us to take out the cabinets. Warrick would be without a working kitchen for a few days, so I made sure to set up my six-foot table in the middle of the spacious room so he could at least have a space for a coffee pot or to make a sandwich.

A squeal from outside got my attention midafternoon. I came rushing out the door with my heart in my throat to find my daughter cackling, nearly doubled over with laughter. Warrick was inside the pen with Bessie, Georgia safely two feet away from the fence line on the outside. He was sitting on the bucket again, talking to the large farm animal like he just might sweet-talk her into letting him milk her. His fancy jeans were covered in dirt, with one particularly gruesome patch of soft brown substance on his knee that I didn't want to ask about.

"It's the pants. She can't trust a city slicker," I drawled, forgetting for just a moment about all the pressures hitting me from every angle.

Warrick's head snapped up and that was his first mistake. Bessie took advantage of the moment and hip-checked her girthy body against Warrick's distracted one. The poor guy went flying back off the bucket, landing in the mud with a grunted curse. Georgia gasped and lunged forward to press her face against the fence.

"You okay, Wa-wy?"

I rolled my lips in to keep from laughing. He was clearly fine. The creative curses streaming from his lips told me so.

"I'm just great, Peaches," he finally answered, picking himself off the ground while trying to minimize the mud distribution.

My smile froze. "Peaches?" Warrick had given my daughter a nickname? Hearing it did something funny to my stomach, and I wasn't sure if I liked it or hated it.

Warrick shrugged, limping out of the pen and shutting the gate before Bessie got any other destructive ideas. Georgia danced around his feet, wanting to get close but not close enough to get any of that mud on her.

"Fucking f?rster ," Pip muttered from behind me, lumbering past me and down the steps. I didn't want to ask what that meant.

Warrick quickly stepped aside, wincing at the quick movement while Georgia just stared up at the woman in awe. Pip opened the pen and went right up to Bessie's snout, the two locked in some kind of who-has-the-biggest-balls staring competition. Pointing out neither of them actually had a set wasn't something I felt safe doing at the moment however. Bessie finally let out a soft moo and shifted back in the direction of the bucket. Pip nodded her approval and sat, milking the cow until she filled the bucket. Georgia watched the whole thing with rapt attention.

Warrick cursed again, slow and quiet .

I turned to Warrick. "Well, I guess she showed you, huh, Dick?"

Fire danced in his eyes, but only a single eyebrow lifted. "Dick?"

I shrugged, every bad mood the last few days had brought me converging into this moment. I didn't know why, but Warrick felt like a safe place to let my temper roar. He shouldn't have though. He was a client.

"You seem to like nicknames and calling you Rick just seemed unimaginative. Dick has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"I take it to zee refrigerator, yeah?" Pip stated, moving past us with the full bucket like it weighed nothing. I watched her go, amazed at how much she'd gotten done today. She was worth a whole crew of Bobs and Smellys.

"I'm only hiring women from now on. German if at all possible."

Warrick snorted softly. "Good. At least Bessie will get milked."

I turned to follow Pip inside and finish up for the day, but Warrick stopped me. "Can we chat for a second?"

And here we go, the next hammer to drop. Warrick was officially putting in his notice for watching Georgia. I couldn't blame him. It was exhausting watching a five-year-old, especially one that wasn't his and he wasn't getting paid for it.

"Georgia, honey, can you run inside and make sure Pip drinks some water? She keeps forgetting and I'm afraid she's dehydrated."

Georgia's face lit up. "I get her juice! Erbody loves juice, not water, Mama. She won't be de-hated."

"Thank you," I called after her. Then I turned to look at Warrick, rolling my shoulders back and facing the music, even if it wasn't a tune I wanted to hear.

"Yes? "

Warrick scuffed the toe of his boot in the grass, looking uneasy. I folded my arms across my chest.

"If you have something to say, just say it." I didn't have time for this. I had an impossible project to work on and apparently a new babysitter to find.

He lifted his head and seemed to pin me in place with his sharp gaze. "I went to Grass in town to have dinner last night. Overheard one of the Walters talking about evicting a tenant so he can sell the place."

I stiffened.

"Wouldn't have thought much of it. The Walter twins were assholes back when I lived here as a kid. But then they talked about a single mom and her daughter and my ears perked up." He took a step, the closeness making me feel claustrophobic. "Are you getting evicted, Emmerleigh?"

I could feel my ears turning red. I hoped Warrick wouldn't see it, or think it was simply a sunburn from the hot afternoon sun. I didn't need my client knowing about my personal life, or seeing the shambles it was in.

"None of your business."

Warrick took another step closer. I had to tilt my head way back to keep meeting his gaze. Which I would do until he gave first. A woman only had so much pride left and I was at the end of my rope. I didn't like being backed into a corner and I had zero intention of admitting weakness. I braced for him to fire me. I wouldn't even blame him. My life was a mess. I was a liability with a kiddo who needed watching, an almost nonexistent crew, and now homeless. But I'd be fired while looking him in the fucking eye while he did it.

"Move in with me."