Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,32
still aimed at me. “Get any good shots, Annie Leibovitz?” And there’s the winning sarcasm I know so well.
Mimicking his stance, I lean closer to him. “This extra project was your idea, but you seem to have lost all interest. Someone has to stay on top of it. I guess it falls on me.”
Brushing past him, I make my way across the wide space to the area that will eventually be the kitchen and dining room. I drag a nearby ladder outside so I can get some exterior photos and hopefully a cool aerial shot.
Tate grabs the other end of the ladder, despite me trying to tug it away from him. It’s no use. The ladder is too heavy, and Tate is too strong for me to do anything other than drop my end at a random spot. I set it up at the back corner of the house and walk around. Tate looms like an overprotective bodyguard. I climb up the ladder for the aerial shot, ignoring the ache in my side. All this physical labor from the last few days is leaving me with soreness in muscles I didn’t even know I had.
“Jesus, Emmie.” Tate curses from several feet below. “Don’t lean over like that.”
When I glance down, he’s gripping the ladder to steady it. “You can let go. I know what I’m doing.”
He remains planted below me. “Oh really? You’re afraid of heights. Don’t be so careless.”
A tiny punch lands in the middle of my chest. He’s right. I have no idea what I’m doing, but it still hurts to be scolded by the jerk I spent an entire postkiss weekend fawning over. A very handsome jerk who looks like a calendar model in his work clothes, while I look like a frazzled mess in yoga pants and the only clean tank top I could find in my laundry pile. Invisible steam pumps out of my ears.
“No worries, man. I’ve got it.” My jaw drops when I look down and see Jamie standing below. Tate’s left arm remains on a middle rung, but he pulls away when I make my way down.
The moment my feet touch the ground, Jamie pulls me into a hug. I grip onto his massive arms, which are nicely on display in a sleeveless shirt. A glowy tan covers his skin. He must have gotten a ton of sun on his trip.
“What are you doing here?” I can’t help the cheesy grin on my face.
“A storm was moving into the Rockies, so we left a day early. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”
“What a great surprise.”
He removes his hard hat, placing it on my head. “To satisfy the safety police over there.”
Tate stares daggers at the two of us while leaning on the ladder.
Jamie beams at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or text while I was gone. Doing a week of off-the-grid camping and hiking in the Rockies was a blast, but there was no cell service.”
“No worries at all. You’re here now.”
Jamie brushes my ponytail over my shoulder, and I let out a soft chuckle. Weirdly, Tate hasn’t moved since Jamie arrived. It occurs to me I’m flanked on either side by two very handsome, very strapping men. For a fleeting moment, I can’t remember which one I like more. There’s something hypnotic about Tate’s milky glow, how it highlights his cut musculature. I can’t seem to shake it. Then Jamie smiles at me, and heat creeps up my face. Oh, that’s right. I like him too.
“You look lovely, by the way.” Jamie takes a step closer.
I’m blushing hard core now. Jamie’s killer charm has me feeling fab.
Tate scoffs loud enough to scare a nearby bird into flying away, then walks off. Jamie frowns, tipping his head in Tate’s direction, then shrugs at me.
“I have no idea what his problem is,” I whisper.
From the nearby worksite, a low voice hollers for Jamie.
“I should say hi to the guys, but you up for lunch later?”
My insides mush together. “Absolutely.”
I try for a sweet smile. He returns a sly one before jogging away.
Scooting the ladder over, I climb back up to take a few more aerial photos, but the sun glare makes it tough to get a clear shot. Even though I’m only about ten feet from the ground, my hands start to shake. No more height-related activities after today. I step down and hear a softly muttered curse float up from below.
Tate scowls up at me. “You really need to be