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said, getting the milk out of the refrigerator and handing it to him.

    “Yeah. Only four more houses to go and the development will close. But the pressure, man, I had to hire five new framers this week.”

    “So you’ll be overseeing everything to make sure the quality is—”

    “You don’t have to tell me how to do my job, Mand.” He poured some milk.

    “I know. You do a great job, you really do,” she said, pulling out a barstool next to him. They both sat.

    He was trying really hard not to smile and let the pleasure show on his face, Mandy could tell. She grinned, reached over and plucked a nugget of cereal from his bowl.

    “You going out with Lar tonight?” she asked. He shrugged, spooned and chewed. “What? You two not making the rounds anymore?”

    “He’s making them. You know Larry.” He paused.

    “I’m out of that scene, at least for a while anyway.”

    “I’m proud of you. You want to come to the bookstore with me and Boston tonight?”

    He let out a good-natured sneer. “Don’t push it.”

    “I thought you said you could appreciate a babe anywhere. There are babes at the bookstore, you know.

    You might do well with an intellectual type.”

    “Like I care if she’s interested in my brain.”

    Mandy plucked another piece of cereal from his bowl. “You care or you’d be hanging with Lar tonight.”

    “What I care about is eating this bowl of cereal right now. Don’t you have something to do, like read a book or something?” He lifted the nearly empty bowl and drank down the milk.

    “You can camouflage all you want Marcus, but I know you. You’re tired of disposable. You’re ready for a keeper.”

    “Who asked you?”

    “Sister’s intuition.” Mandy tapped her temple. “Try the bookstore. You never know,” she said, standing, stretching. She looked at her watch: one more hour until she saw Boston again. “So, tomorrow, work. Yes! I’ve been dying to get back.”

    “Well, then, your dreams are about to come true.”

    Because Marc was now overseeing all of the houses under construction, Mandy didn’t drive with him to the development. She liked having her own car, anyway.

    That way, she could meet up with Boston at lunch.

    The morning was warmer than usual, even for late August. The air felt as if temperatures were going to skyrocket. She opened the sunroof and let the hot beams bathe her. From her CD player, something jumpy blasted, and her nerves ticked thinking about the new job.

    She’d worked with the best crew already, she doubted this group of guys could top the fun camaraderie she’d felt with A.J., Larry, Marc, and Boston.

    That was a given. But it really didn’t matter. She was excited about the work, about building, watching yet another home rise from the dust.

    With a smile on her lips, she pulled up to the site. The area buzzed like a beehive, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. A large truck with a load of wood was parked in front of the cement foundation. Men she didn’t recognize were unloading the lumber and carrying it to piles outside the groundwork. She couldn’t wait to inhale the natural scent.

    One Haynes truck was parked on the street as well as a handful of other trucks. Not knowing any of the new crew didn’t bother her. She was there to learn, and the variety in foremen and their techniques was nearly as vast as the variety in home designs and floor plans.

    She got out, went around to her trunk, and fetched her tool belt. She’d worn khaki shorts and a white tee shirt today figuring she’d spring her tanning attire on the crew once she knew them better.

    After she secured her belt, she jogged onto the site. One of the workers, an older man with gray hair and black glasses, smiled at her. She waved. There was no need to feel butterflies. These guys all knew who she was, but the butterflies were there, stuck in her stomach anyway. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to jump any hurdles like she had on her first