15. Over-Joyed

Chapter 15

Over-Joyed

As Charlie drove back to the building department, he turned over the enigma that was Joy Holiday. When he'd first met her, she'd come off as self-centered, as someone who thought the world should revolve around her . But since then, he'd caught a glimpse of warmth she liked to keep tucked away. Hell, she'd passed the Luna-and-Sunny test with flying colors—and that carried its own weight. It was only him she didn't like, although she'd sought him out to warn him about Carl Weatherly, and she'd sided with him, which he hadn't expected of her. She might be as prickly as a barrel cactus, but she believed in justice for him, so there was that.

Another intriguing truth was that a fragility simmered beneath her shiny veneer, and that veneer looked a little thin and brittle in places.

Her nimble mind was finely honed, and she seemed to thrive on challenge. If one wasn't there, she invented it. She was also full of contradictions. Like what had the business with the romance book been about? She'd obviously been embarrassed at being caught, but she'd danced around like her toes were on fire instead of simply owning it and daring him to push it further—not the sort of reaction he would have expected of a confident woman like her. The fact that she read smut in the first place was another surprise that was at odds with her personality. Surrounded by the Wall Street Journal , the last six issues of Forbes , and a book or two about the art of war in business? That would have fit. Then again, what the hell did he really know about her?

Joy Holiday was a thought-provoking paradox that drove him insane—not in a good way—yet sparked something uncomfortable and raw inside of him. While he didn't understand his reaction, he knew he didn't like it.

He loved a smart woman, and the way Joy's brain worked was puzzling and provocative. It always seemed to be moving, processing, calculating. God, to spend a moment in her skin and get a glimpse at her inner wiring! He'd never known a woman like her … nor had he ever seen such warm sherry-colored eyes. Eyes that went wild with excitement when an idea struck. They lit from inside, like a candle flame being ignited.

His victory—and it had been a victory getting her to see the building's potential—had been hard-fought and sweet as hell to earn, but it left him wrung out, which probably explained his mind's current inappropriate meanderings.

A family of four, all holding hands, paused on the curb, and he came to a stop and waved them across. At least Joy hadn't taken possession of all his senses.

He parked in front of the town hall and sat for a moment, his arm draped over the steering wheel, while his thoughts returned to his new partner. They'd only known each other a few days, but their encounters had been intense and rousing. If he was brutally honest, he enjoyed sparring with her, and he was drawn to solve the mystery she was. She was made of steel but also one beguiling layer atop another, like yards of lace begging to be removed to bare the woman underneath.

What made her tick? What got her motor running, besides arguing and … motors? What did she like in bed? What didn't she like? What did she sound like? Taste like? Could he blow her busy mind and make it blank out for a minute? Two? Thirty?

He sat back as though he'd been slapped. How the fuck had he gone from trying to figure her out to picturing her in bed? And so seamlessly too .

"Knock it off, you perv," he berated himself. "She's not for you." For so many reasons. They had nothing in common, for one. For two, they didn't get along. When he turned right, she went left. If he pointed up, she looked down. His black was her white. And thirdly, she was his client, which put her so far off-limits she might has well have been back in Chicago.

As he climbed out of his truck, he reminded himself she was an obstinate control freak, and he wasn't interested in being under anyone's thumb, in business or in love.

Up on the second floor, he greeted Bea. "Thought I'd stop by and check on that demo permit. Oh, and I brought you these." He pushed a twine-bound pair of handmade soaps at her. They came from the local soap shop, and he reckoned he was supporting at least two Fall River causes at the same time.

She batted her eyes at him. Thank fuck . "Charlie Hunnicutt, are you trying to bribe me?"

"No, ma'am. I just thought of you while I was in there getting stuff for my mom. If you don't like them, feel free to give them to your niece. To Becky." There. Would his attempt at conciliation get him what he needed?

Bea flapped a hand and tittered, "Oh, you!" before deftly stashing them under the counter. "I'll check on that permit for you."

Within a minute, she was back. "I have good news. All approved and stamped." She pushed the paper toward him. The ink on the stamp looked like it was still wet. The soap had worked … which gave him an idea about a peace offering for someone else.

"Much obliged, Bea. Oh, and by the way, I've arranged a meeting with the investors at Silver Summit. We're going to talk about the train project." It wasn't a total lie. He'd asked Noah to set it up, and even if Noah hadn't done shit about it, Charlie had done his part in the arranging.

"Thank you." She tilted her head. "Are you still going to Doro on Saturday?"

The question threw him, unsettled him, but he saw no reason not to answer. "Sure am." Bea didn't need to know his plus-one had changed, though God knew that in this town she would probably find out anyway. He'd take his chances.

"The Silver Lode, huh?" She tapped her finger on her chin .

"Yep. Two or three bands are playing. Should be a blast." He was safe acting enthusiastic, wasn't he? Bea wasn't a country-rock-and-roller who hung out at dive bars. Right?

Her smile brightened. "Well, you have fun. You and Neve."

Hmm … what did Bea know? He didn't want to find out.

He woke up groggy the next morning to a dog licking his chin. With a groan, he rolled out of bed and stroked Sunny's soft head.

"Not exactly the girl I want licking me awake, but I love you anyway." Never one to be left out, Luna dashed in and danced in place on her spindly hind legs.

He stretched and yawned. "What were you two barking at last night anyway?"

This was one reason for his fatigue. Their sharp barks at 2:00 a.m. had awoken him, but he hadn't spotted anything or anyone when he'd climbed out of bed to investigate. The dogs had paced and panted and huffed, refusing to settle back down until around 3:00 a.m.

Thank God it was demo day. He didn't need to have his brain's "on" switch fully engaged.

Once he got cleaned up and took care of his morning chores, he stepped outside with a full, jumbo-sized shopping bag in hand. As he approached his truck, something looked off. That something became clear when he caught sight of his tires. He set the bag inside the cab and crouched by each tire, running his fingers over the rubber. All four had been slashed.

He yelled every expletive in his arsenal at the sky. Within minutes, he had Micky on the phone.

"I need a tow. Someone slashed my fucking tires last night."

"Who did you piss off?" Micky drawled.

"Not funny. Not only is this going to set me back a couple grand, but I'm supposed to start a job in''—he tipped his right wrist to check his watch—"five minutes."

"It's your lucky day because I have time to spare. I'll be right over, and I can give you a ride to where you need to be, but I can't guarantee five minutes, bro."

They hung up, and Charlie texted Joy that he was going to be late. When she asked why in a return text, he replied with the truth. Someone slashed my tires last night . He added another text: A guy named Felix is helping me this morning, and he should be there shortly. He was tempted to add, Don't let him give you any shit , but thought better of it. Talk about starting off on the wrong foot. Besides, if there was one thing Joy Holiday was good at, it was doling out her own shit while not taking any from anybody else.

Her reply came quickly. After I got up early to greet you at the door?

He snorted a laugh. Don't worry. It'll be worth it.

Next, he texted Felix to let him know he was running late but that Joy was expecting him. When Felix didn't reply right away, Charlie didn't think much about it. The guy was dependable. He was probably driving or otherwise occupied.

His final text went to Deputy Sheriff Shane O'Brien, who called him within seconds of Charlie sending the message. "You've got a crime to report?"

Charlie explained about the damage. "Micky's on his way to tow it. I hadn't thought about you maybe wanting to inspect it. Should I call him off?"

"No need. I'm right around the corner."

Even as Charlie was hanging up, Shane's SUV came into view. Soon the deputy was taking pictures and jotting down notes. "Can you think of anyone who's got it in for you?"

"Possibly Jimmy Culbertson."

"He's working for you, right?"

"Yeah, if you can call it that."

"You guys have a beef?"

"Let's just say Cully and I aren't exactly seeing eye to eye at the moment."

Dragging a hand over his jaw, Shane stared at the tires. "You said your dogs went nuts in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah. I'm guessing that's when whoever did this was … doing this."

"Security cameras? "

Charlie shook his head. Those had come in handy when someone had tried to set fire to the Miners Tavern. Maybe Charlie should put them up here too. Crystal Harmony Haven too, in case they wanted to mess with him there.

Shane slid him a sidelong glance. "Your dogs know Cully, though, right?" Charlie nodded. "They ever go nuts around him before?"

"No, not that I recall. You think them barking means it wasn't anyone they recognized?"

"It's a thought. One thing I do know: whoever did this to you definitely doesn't like you."

"Gee, ya think?" Charlie snorted. "Whoever he is, I'd like to wrap my hands around his neck."

Shane's mouth twitched with a wicked grin. "Don't count out the ladies in your life, bro. They can be handy at slashing tires too, especially when they're pissed. Ever heard of a woman scorned?"

Charlie's mouth dropped open. "No. No way." Much as they annoyed him, he couldn't fathom Germaine or Lauren skulking around in the middle of the night carving up his tires.

"Yes way. They might smell good, but women are vicious. Some women." Shane tucked his notebook into his pocket. "I'll let you know if I find anything, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. Meanwhile, think about adding cameras. You might only be a few blocks from Bowen, but it's still kinda isolated here, and whoever you've rubbed the wrong way might return to do more damage."

A half hour later, Charlie stood at the Haven's front door. It opened it before he could knock, making the little bell tinkle. He eyed it. I'm taking you down first .

"Good morning," Joy greeted. He lowered his gaze to her and was caught off guard. She was fresh and dewy, dressed in a pink T-shirt, overly large gray sweats, and white crew socks. Her lines were softer somehow. She looked most un -Joy-like, which made her almost approachable.

"Is Felix here yet?" His newly minted project manager hadn't replied, and Charlie was hoping the guy had parked in back. Charlie had only been able to bring a few tools from his truck, and he needed Felix's to fill in the rest.

"Haven't seen him." She shook her head, and her hair, caught in a high ponytail, brushed her T-shirt. A black bra showed through the thin pink fabric—not that he was taking inventory, although the observation did distract him from his frustration over Felix's absence. Hopefully, the guy wasn't hurt or broken down somewhere without cell service.

She pointed at the load he held in his hand. "What's in the bag?"

"A housewarming gift." He strode to the kitchen, and she followed in his wake, sputtering protests. Even if she hadn't been yapping at him, he would have known she was there because whatever perfume she was wearing—almonds and some kind of flower, he thought—wreathed him. Shane was right. Women did smell good.

He opened the bag on the old counter and extracted a boxed coffeemaker, followed by a grinder, a bag of dark roast coffee beans, a pint of cream, and a box of artificial sweetener.

Her eyes went saucer-wide. "What's all this?"

"Coffee-making fixings. The essentials for every home."

"But … but I …"

He held up his hand. "I know. You were going to get it yourself, but I happened to be in Montrose yesterday, so I thought I'd pick this stuff up." Her eyes turned soft and glossy, and she cast them down and to the side. He panicked. "It's as much for me as it is for you. I can't start my day without coffee, and since I'll be here early every morning, I thought …" Shit. Had he totally screwed up his peace offering?

She looked up at him then, and a beautiful smile lit her entire face. The effect was … stunning. "Thank you. That was very considerate. What do I owe you?"

"It's a gift, so nothing."

"We can discuss that later."

"Of course we can, but we won't." He folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. She mirrored the motion. They started a stare-down like they'd done yesterday, but it didn't last because she soon cracked up. He hadn't heard her laugh much, but the sound did funny things to his insides. It was a melodious sound, and one she should indulge in more often.

"All right, I'll let you win this time."

This tugged a grin from him. "You'll let me?"

"That's right. I'm in control here." Defiance danced in her tawny eyes .

The crazy urge to crash his mouth down on hers and show her control seized him. "Woman, someday someone is going to tame that mouth of yours, and I hope I'm around to see it."

She gawked at him.

Now that wasn't inappropriate , he scolded himself. Taking a few steps back, he gave himself an inner shake and pointed at the grinder. He cleared the embarrassment from his throat. "I figured you for a grind-your-own kind of girl."

She smirked, letting him off the hook. "I'm more of a buy-it or let-my-assistant-bring-it kind of girl, but since I'm on my own here, there's no better time to learn, is there?"

"I'm happy to give you lessons."

"Because you Hunnicutts are very skilled with your hands?"

Why that exchange sounded dirty, he had no idea, but she must have picked up on it too because her eyes flashed and quickly shuttered.

He helped her unpack everything, and she began washing the pieces while he tried reaching Felix again. He also texted Cully, whom he'd been trying to get hold of all morning. The guy hadn't responded to any of Charlie's texts or voicemails. He really needed to get to work, but he also had to figure out what the hell was going on with his guys. He would wait another fifteen minutes before heading to the other job site.

Biding his time, he watched as Joy finished washing the coffeemaker parts. An awkwardness hung between them, which wasn't that unusual, but it bugged him. Her back was to him, and he ran his eyes over her form, well disguised beneath the baggy sweats. "That's a new look for you."

She chuckled. "I didn't come prepared to stay more than a few days, and most of the clothes I brought have to be dry-cleaned. Shortsighted, I know. Meanwhile, the stuff I can wash seems to have shrunk—I'm wondering if it's got something to do with the water here—but I ended up hanging on to some of my mom's clothes until I can get to Montrose and buy new ones."

He didn't dare ask if her hamburger habit contributed to the tight clothing. It could explain why she looked slightly rounder, and frankly, he was a fan—not that it concerned him in the least. It was probably his imagination anyway.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Any idea who slashed your tires or why? "

He shook his head. "None. The girls barked their heads off in the middle of the night. I didn't see anything when I got up, but I'll bet whoever did it was the reason they went off the way they did. I thought about bringing them with me this morning 'cause I hate leaving them alone all day, but I figured I'd keep them there in case someone comes back. There's been some weird stuff going on at my house."

"Like what?"

"Tools disappearing, my locked shop door left open, and—this one's really strange—someone went through my medicine cabinet." Joy made a little strangling noise. "You okay?"

"Fine," she croaked and turned back to her chore, but he caught sight of her cheek, which blazed red. "How could you, um, tell?"

"Because nothing was where it normally is. The weirdest part is that the entire contents were put away meticulously, like someone wanted to mess with me, gaslight me." He smoothed the hair at the back of his neck. "I don't know. I'm probably just paranoid and seeing shadows where there aren't any."

"Can't say as I blame you." A phone rang, and she flicked suds from her hands. "That's work. I need to get it."

Just then, his phone buzzed too. Charlie picked up with a clipped voice. "Where are you, Cully?"

"Home. Sick. Can't make it in today." He hacked a few times, and it sounded fake.

Charlie let out a long exhale. If the guy really was sick, he couldn't fire him. Yet. "Do you know where Felix is? He was supposed to meet me at Crystal Harmony Haven."

"Oh. I guess he wasn't lying after all."

"What?"

"I talked to him early this morning. Told him to go to Montrose and pick up supplies and take them to the other job site. He's probably halfway there."

Which explains why he hasn't responded. No cell coverage.

"You should have called me and checked first."

"I was sick."

Had Cully found out what Charlie had put Felix up to? "But not too sick to tell Felix what to do. Are your thumbs broken too?"

"What does that mean? "

"Jesus Christ, Cully. You could have at least texted me."

"I thought I was your foreman, and as your foreman, I call the shots when it comes to these day workers." He paused to cough. His tone grew more sullen. "I can't have you breathing down my neck all the time, Charlie. I need some autonomy."

Maybe I can fire him today. "As my foreman , you're in charge of getting supplies, not a day worker who barely speaks English!"

"All he has to do is pick up the fucking order. It doesn't take a rocket scientist."

"All right. We're tabling this discussion for another time. I've got some rearranging to do."

When they hung up, Charlie considered his choices. He could pull one of the guys off the other job site, but they were bumping against deadlines. He could wait until Felix was back, but that would be hours. Or he could start demoing by himself. Suddenly, that notion held all kinds of appeal. Tearing things apart was going to feel damn good.

Felix called him as soon as the messages popped up on his phone, or so he said. Charlie was inclined to believe the man, but after Cully's bullshit and how his morning had gone sideways, he wasn't exactly in a trusting mood.

Felix ran on in broken English. "I so sorry, Mr. Charlie, but Mr. Cully say this what you want. I tell him I check with you. You the boss. He say he the boss and that he no give me work if I call you. What I do?"

"He can't do that, Felix. I will talk to him. Meanwhile, you stay there and work today."

"You no need me work with you this afternoon?"

"No, I got this." The demo work was just what the doctor had ordered, and Charlie was feeling more cheerful with each cabinet he pried from the wall and each tile he smashed. "But I want you here tomorrow."

"Yes, Mr. Charlie. I be there."

Charlie was hauling debris out of the back door and hurling it into the newly delivered dumpster when Joy appeared on the back stoop .

"Are you supposed to be wearing a hazmat suit or at least a mask?"

"Nope. We're good. The samples I took the other day didn't turn up lead-based paint or asbestos. If they had, I wouldn't have let you stay here while the work was going on."

"Oh. Well, thank you for that." She chewed one side of her lip. "What do you think of fencing the backyard?"

Dumbfounded, he paused to wipe the sweat from his face with his forearm. "What?"

"This backyard would look much nicer with a fence, don't you think? No one would see the junk, it would keep the animals out, and a dog could run and play back here."

What the fuck was she talking about?

"You just spent hours yesterday fighting me tooth and nail over design ideas that are going to increase the bottom line. A fence wasn't one of those ideas. What's more, the only effect it'll have on the bottom line is to reduce it." He tilted his head and peered at her, his mind buzzing with questions. She pursed her lips and wiggled her mouth from side to side. Her eyes were trained elsewhere, and he could practically see sentences and paragraphs racing through them, though he had no idea what the words spelled. What was really going on here? Was she concerned because he wanted to bring Sunny and Luna to work with him? Nah. Joy Holiday wasn't that selfless—not when dollars were involved.

"What dogs are you expecting to run and play back here?" Sweat continued trickling into his eyes, and he used the hem of his T-shirt to swipe at his forehead. As he lowered it back into place, he noticed her gaze dart from his stomach to his face. Her cheeks reddened. Without the layers of makeup, he could tell when she blushed, and she was blushing something fierce. He fought a smirk—nice to know she appreciated something about him.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "It would be easier to have your dogs here, right? And I was thinking about what you said about Hailey and Noah, and I pictured their pup back here."

His confusion bloomed. "Are you planning to dog-sit Chance? Invite them over for a play date? Or are you thinking of selling to them? I'm not sure they can afford the finished product."

Her prim little nose stuck up in the air, and she gave the hem of her top an indignant tug. "I'm … weighing options." Which answered nothing .

She pivoted and sauntered back inside, her hips swaying in a natural, feminine rhythm. Despite his warning bells going off, he watched her the entire way, appreciating the view. The words he'd gleaned in her notebook made an appearance in his head, as they'd done many times since he'd first seen them.

Dirty. Naked. Engorged.

Fuck! He had to stop this … this whatever it was messing with his mind. Maybe it was time to fall off the celibacy wagon and indulge his body's cravings. He had choices: Germaine, Lauren, and probably Becky. Other names popped into his head. Most men would say having alternatives to choose from was a good problem, but the thought of getting naked with any of them made acid bubble in his stomach—never mind the complications that would inevitably follow. When his imagination leaped to Joy—without his permission—his libido gave a rousing cheer.

Oh, this was not good.