The Perfect Hope Part 29

She bent to pet the dog, tipped her face up so her eyes glinted through a dark curtain of hair. "Maybe I should get my garden hose."

"I might just use it at the end of the day." He hesitated. "Have you got people coming in?"

"Yes. Three rooms, one staying through the weekend."

"Okay."

"Any particular reason you asked?"

"No."

Back to one-word responses, she thought, and tried another avenue. "I hear you shared your pie on Man Night."

"The kids were like vultures. I underestimated them."

"I've got half of one left. You can have it."

"I'll take it."

"Pick it up before you leave. I have to get back to work."

"We'll bring the table and stuff back. We appreciate it."

"All right. Oh, and I'm sure I can make time if you want me to hose you off."

She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes narrow in speculation before she turned and walked away.

Hope considered herself a pretty good judge, and in her judgment she and Ryder Montgomery were having a serious flirtation.

They'd see where it went from there.

OWEN SHOWED UP as Ryder climbed down from the roof for the last time of the day. He could've b.i.t.c.hed, but he noted Owen showed some sweat and dirt, and still wore his tool belt.

But what the h.e.l.l, a little b.i.t.c.hing between brothers was just another sign of affection.

"Figured you'd show up when the hard work was over."

"Somebody had to run the other crew since you got a wild hair to go off schedule. Those fugly tiles are gone over there, and wasn't that fun?"

Anything but, Ryder thought, and couldn't help but be glad he didn't have to do it.

"If you get material in here tomorrow, we can start the new roof."

"It'll be here at eight." Owen gave Ryder an up-and-down study. "Looks like you've earned a beer."

"I earned a f.u.c.king six-pack."

"Avery's closing tonight, so I'm going to go over, hang awhile. It's Beckett's turn to buy."

"Beckett's going home," Beckett announced. "And taking a five-hour shower. I may eat and sleep in the shower."

"Looks like you and me, Ry."

"Looks like you," Ryder corrected. "I'm doing what Beckett's doing, and so's my dog."

"Fair enough, considering how the two of you smell. We'll rain check it until tomorrow. We need to go over some things, both sites. We can do it before the crew gets here in the morning, or after we knock off."

"After," Ryder said, definitely.

"Friday night?" Beckett arched his brows. "No hot date?"

"My hot dates don't start that early, they go until early." But he didn't have one, and hadn't thought about it. Maybe after he'd showered off three or four inches of grime, he'd give it more thought.

"See you tomorrow then." As Owen strolled off, Beckett looked back at the building. He and Ryder stood together like a couple of refugees from h.e.l.l. "Flip you for who does the final check and locks up."

Mostly because he remembered early-morning coffee in the kitchen with Clare, Ryder shrugged. "Go on home to the wife and kids. I'll do it."

"I'm already gone."

Ryder went back in, grabbed his clipboard. He wanted to note a couple things down, after he could stand to be around himself again. He checked the door facing St. Paul, got his cooler.

Thought of lemonade.

No time for that, he told himself. And though he wouldn't mind the pie, he wasn't going into the inn in his current state. He'd have to rain check that, too.

He started out just as a truck pulled in.

w.i.l.l.y B's, he noted, with his mother riding shotgun. He tried not to think of the fact that Avery's father was sleeping with his mother. He'd rather just continue to think of w.i.l.l.y B as he always had: an old family friend-a h.e.l.l of a nice guy who'd been Tommy Montgomery's best pal since childhood.

If he thought of big, red-bearded w.i.l.l.y B as his mom's lover, it just got sticky.

Justine hopped out. She wore those pants that stopped inches above the ankle and some sort of girly T-s.h.i.+rt with fancy work around the neck.

She'd fussed with herself some-the hair and face stuff-and looked d.a.m.n pretty.

"Don't get too close." He held up a hand. "I'm not fit for close."

"I've seen you worse, but this is a new s.h.i.+rt. So." She blew him a kiss.

"Back atcha. How's it going, w.i.l.l.y B?"

"Going good." He stood six and a half feet. A big man with a big heart, and a full head of wild red hair that matched the beard he sported. He stood, thumbs tucked in pockets, eyeing the building. "Took the roof clean off."

"There wasn't anything clean about it. I guess you want to take a look inside."