Build Me Up (NaNoWriMo)

Day 11 (653 words)

Kristen looked up from under her bright yellow hardhat. It was threatening to swallow her whole, but Ford had insisted she wear it on the construction site. Well, his exact words had been ‘wear it at all times or you’re out of here’.

Over the past couple of months, they’d made a lot of progress. The old light keeper’s cottage remained untouched as a guest house, but Kristen still held hopes the historical society and building committee would come around. They’d better, or Quinlan Bankhead would have her head on a platter. A nickel silver one.

The building site was teeming with activity. She’d learned that Ford worked with a number of sub-contractors and that he also had short-term employees to handle the work load. He made an excellent team leader, and she’d caught herself admiring his intensity and, yes, his strong, stubbled jaw, on more than one occasion.

She wasn’t strictly needed on the site, but Mr. Bankhead wanted her to oversee the entire project, and that’s what she was determined to do.

It was late October now, and the weather was bleak and chilly. She was happy for the office trailer that Ford kept heated and stocked with coffee, and spent more time than necessary in there, supposedly studying her designs and working on the interior plans.

Right now, though, she was overseeing the replacement of the old staircase in the lighthouse. She couldn’t help making comments and offering helpful suggestions to the workers, but they didn’t seem to pay her much attention.

“Stop bugging my men,” a rich voice grumbled in her ear and Kristen flinched.

“I’m not bugging anyone,” she huffed and straightened. “This is my job, Ford.”

“No offense, but you don’t know a thing about this kind of work.”

“Gee, how could I not be offended by that?” she said drily.

“It’s just plain facts, Kristen. You’re distracting the guys by hovering out here. Don’t you have designs to work on, deals to hammer out, that sort of thing?”

“They don’t seem that distracted to me,” Kristen shrugged. How could she be distracting anyone when they were ignoring her?

Ford looked at something over her shoulder, but before she could turn to look, his hands were on her coat – the finest fall/winter coat she could find at the Spend n’ Save – and his fingers were buttoning her up.

“What are you doing?” she frowned and pulled away.

“Eliminating part of the distraction. If you insist on standing around here, at least don’t tempt the guys to fall down trying to look down your top. My insurance doesn’t cover those kinds of accidents.”

She should be furious with him for being a chauvinistic jerk, but his lips were twitching and they coaxed her to mirror his expression.

“Fine. I’m do for a coffee, anyway,” she said, lifting her chin and walking away, bumping his shoulder in the process. It was a strong shoulder, but he let her push past him as if he was a cardboard cut-out.

Ford watched Kristen walk over to the trailer, allowing his grin to widen. He enjoyed yanking her chain, enjoyed watching the sparks fly, starting in her eyes and trickling down to her fingertips. She was positively electric.

Every night as they wrapped up the work for the day, he would grab his things from the trailer and catch her scent lingering there. He couldn’t describe it, nor would he want to – he wasn’t one for waxing poetically – but it didn’t make him want to air out his little office, that’s for sure.

Kristen may be oblivious to the attention she was getting just by being on the site, but he sure noticed it. He’d had to have a stern talk with a couple of the guys and remind them they were hired to do a job, not ogle the pretty designer lady.

Maybe he should have given himself the same speech.