Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,14
man.”
“Nah. I’ve got it.” Tate’s stern response is practically a bark. He stomps to the warehouse, leaving Jamie and me alone.
“Pretty cool that your company is building a house with Midwest Family Homes. My company is too. I’m one of the lead contractors on the project.”
“Really?” My stomach jumps at the thought that I might see handsome Jamie again, hammering away at the worksite, hopefully sweaty and sans a shirt.
“If our worksites are anywhere close to each other, you’ll have to stop by and say hello.”
“Definitely.”
We keep eye contact a beat longer than you normally would with someone you’ve just met. I give myself a mental fist bump for the fun result this bout of faking it brings me.
The squeak of metal wheels dragging against the floor yanks us away from our flirty banter. Tate pushes a massive platform truck in our direction.
“We ready to haul this stuff?” Tate parks it so close to Jamie that he has to take a step back.
Jamie frowns at him. “I thought you said you didn’t need any help.”
Tate chucks box after box of supplies onto the flatbed. “I changed my mind.”
Together the three of us load it up and deliver the supplies to the warehouse to be unloaded. We follow Jamie back to his truck.
“All that rock climbing must have paid off. You two made light work of that.”
Tate scowls while Jamie graces me with a half smile. I blush.
He pulls a pen and paper from his back jeans pocket. “Can I get your signature on this form? Just so I can prove to my boss I dropped the supplies off at the right place.”
I sign it.
Tate takes a drink from the nearby water fountain before doubling back. “We done here, then?” He crosses his arms while scowling at Jamie and me. “We’ve got plenty of work to do today. No sense wasting time standing around and staring at one another.”
Instead of rolling my eyes like I want to, I blink. My normal daily to-do list at work has grown. In addition to those press releases, I have a marketing plan to flesh out for the charity homebuilding project, thanks to Tate.
I lift my hand in a small wave to Jamie. “It was nice to meet you.” I start to walk away behind Tate, then flip back around. “Your pen. Sorry.”
Jamie takes the pen, brushing my fingers for a long second. I feel my cheeks heat, then he hands it back to me. “Nah. You hang on to it.”
“Why?” I giggle like a giddy schoolgirl who’s been noticed by the hot guy in class. What a dork I am.
“Because it’ll give you an excuse to find me at the worksite.” The slick way he raises his eyebrow, it’s like he’s smirking without moving his mouth.
“Can’t wait.”
I tuck my hair behind my ears, fumbling with Jamie’s pen in my free hand. My response makes me sound weirdly gung ho. I manage to keep a polite smile on my face while I cringe on the inside. My God, am I out of practice at this flirting thing. For a moment I try to think of something witty and cute to say to recover, but instead I let the pause rest between us. What would a confident, unflappable woman do? Let him think of something to say.
He lets out a soft laugh. “I can’t wait either.” I swear there’s a cheeky gleam in his eye before he waves good-bye and climbs back into his truck.
By the time I’m upstairs, I’m officially on cloud nine. It’s silly how a minor exchange with a handsome stranger has my insides all mushed up, but I’m currently in the middle of an eleven-month dry spell. I may be jumping the gun a bit, but I’m sick of waiting around.
“You’re flirting with contractors now?” Tate says the moment I pass his open door.
When I look up at him sitting behind his desk, he’s flipping through his notepad, not even looking at me.
The smile drops from my face. “Excuse me?”
“I overheard the meathead chatting you up around the corner.”
“Wow. Eavesdrop much?” He is the king of rude today.
“I have to say, I never thought of you as someone who goes gaga over office supplies.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“He gives you a special pen and you’re all smiles. It’s a bit much is all I’m saying.” His fingers make air quotes when he says “special.” Sarcasm drips from his voice with a biting undercurrent of contempt.
My sudden happiness is smashed. “No one