Chapter 32

Smith Everette

"You there?" Zane asked through the sound system of the Escalade.

"Yep. Just pulled up."

"She there?"

The "she" being Aria Taylor. The latest social media personality to hit it big. After watching hours of her videos I understood why. Not only was the woman gorgeous in overalls, hair pulled into a ponytail hanging out the back of a baseball cap, face free of makeup, making swinging a hammer or using a drill look damn sexy, but she ratcheted up the sex appeal by knowing how to use the hammer she was swinging, the drill she was whirling, and whichever type of saw she was using in her videos. Hell, the fact she knew the difference between a coping saw and miter saw was enough for her male followers to get a hard-on. That coupled with her sweet, sexy, girl-next-door pretty, it didn't take a marketing expert to understand why she'd gained the popularity she had.

But she was a fuckuva lot prettier in person carrying a bag of trash to the garbage bins at the side of her house.

"Yep."

"Call me after you talk to her."

"Copy."

I disconnected the call and watched Aria toss the bag into the can and make her way back into the garage for no other reason than I liked the way she moved. It didn't hurt her ass looked phenomenal in a pair of supremely faded pair of Levi's. The fact those jeans were faded due to use and not trendy fashion was dead-ass cool.

Unfortunately, I wasn't there to stare at the woman's ass.

Her neighborhood was nice, as it would be, situated near the water just over the Bay Bridge on the north side of Route 50. Closer to the water—either side of the peninsula the Chesapeake or the Chester River, middle income would turn to upper. Waterfront would turn to wealthy. Her house was the nicest on her block. Not surprising with her occupation. What was surprising however, was she'd done all the work herself, only calling in day laborers when the job required more. It was impressive and not because she was a woman. The closer I got to her front door the more the craftsmanship became evident, her impressive skill level becoming clearer. The woman knew what she was doing.

I was admiring the shiplap planking of her wraparound porch when the door suddenly opened. Startled brown eyes locked on me from behind the storm door. And when I say locked, what I really mean was they held me hostage.

Until the fear registered.

"I'm Smith Everette from—"

"Right." She cut me off and opened the flimsy glass door. "I wasn't expecting you for another five minutes. I was going out to get my mail. Come in."

"I can wait."

"No. Please come in, and thank you for making the trek all the way over here. I know bridge traffic is a pain in the ass. I would've come to you but I need to leave in an hour to go up to Philly and I couldn't take the day off of work."

She paused, shook her head, and started again. "Not that I think my time is more valuable than yours. It's just that I can't break these plans. Rehearsal, then dinner with the bridal party, wedding is the next day, and Sunday's a whole farewell brunch thing. I would've come to you on Monday but my dad's a little…a lot protective and wouldn't stop nagging until I called Zane. Then he called Zane and made this huge deal out of the situation and here we are, you wasting your day sitting in construction traffic—"

"Aria?"

"Yeah?"

"Making sure you're safe isn't a waste of anyone's day. Especially not mine."

Her grin was lopsided when her lips bowed up.

Totally fucking cute.

"Great. You're one of those overprotective types, aren't you?"

I wasn't—not usually.

But standing in Aria's living room with her in those faded jeans, warm brown eyes, sun-kissed brownish blonde hair, lopsided grin, teasing me after her explanation about why I was in her living room, meant I turned into one.

"Yep."

She rolled her eyes to her kickass vaulted wood ceiling that was done in a badass herringbone pattern. Then rolled them back, her grin turned into a smile and she swept her hand in the direction of the back of her house.

"Well in that case, let's go sit in the kitchen where I can offer you some coffee, or a beer, or water since I deduced from that I won't be able to convince you that Captain Taylor is seriously overreacting."

Captain Taylor was her father, a friend of Zane's from the Navy who had called in a favor. The remark could've been interpreted as snarky or bitchy but the way her expression turned soft and the way her eyes danced when she mentioned her father, made the comment teasing.

"You've assumed correctly," I told her.

Her glossy lips pinched but one side remained hitched up.

I followed her into the kitchen and looked around.

"Did you do all this, too?"

She didn't break stride when she said, "Yeah. The kitchen was outdated. But the cabinets were custom made, even if the made part of that was in the seventies. So all they needed was sanding, stain, and some distressing so the door fronts that were beat-up wouldn't stick out. The countertops were a bust but those are easy enough to replace and nowhere near the cost of replacing cabinets. The appliances were so old they'd come back into style if I'd been going for vintage. But I wanted sleek and modern so they had to go."

Whatever look she was going for, it was shit hot.

Dark-stained cabinets with a black glaze that highlighted the distressing she'd done. The granite was black with crazy cool gold veining. Gold cabinet handles and drawer pulls tied everything together.

I rounded the bank of cabinets that delineated the kitchen from an eating area with a four top table dominating the space and stood opposite her

"It's badass, Aria. You did a great job."

She stopped looking at her cabinets and tipped her eyes to look at me from under her lashes.

"Thanks."

That was shy and cute.

And fuck me, I felt that straight in my dick. The only reason I shoved that aside was the same reason I was ignoring how good her ass looked in those jeans, and her smile, and her pretty eyes and gorgeous face.

Her father was a close personal friend of my boss.

The shy slid away, flirtatiousness sparked in her eyes, and I knew she was going to say something smartass that was going to make it harder to ignore how much I totally dug this chick.

I'd been in her presence all of three minutes.

Fuck me.

Time to get to work.