He didn’t need her shit. Didn’t need to feel less when it was obvious she could give herself more.

What he needed was a job. His resources were running low. It didn’t take him a lot to get by but it was coming time when weather could not be assured he could jump on his bike whenever he felt the need to take off. This meant it had come to the time where he settled in Carnal, got a job and made some cash so when the weather turned, he could jump on his bike whenever he felt the need to take off.

It would not suck, shoving his hand down those overalls to trace with his fingers the lace he saw of her panties. This being before he took those fucking ugly things off.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Deke knew her kind and he’d learned a long time ago not to go there.

He set her out of his thoughts and stared at the lake, thinking about her deck and the fire pit, which, once done, were going to be dead cool, just like the rest of the house.

A house Deke knew was not a place he’d ever belong.

And he watched the mirror of the lake turn yellow and orange, pink and purple and then blue.

When it was blue, he got up, walked to his Airstream, climbed in, closed the screen behind him and started dinner.

Chapter Three

Bounty

Justice

Loud banging on my door made me open my eyes.

I blinked, rolled, reached out, missed the nightstand, shoved forward, tagged my phone and engaged the screen.

The banging continued.

I stared at my phone.

It was ten to seven.

In the morning.

What the fuck?

The banging stopped only to start again.

“Goddammit,” I muttered angrily, tossing back the covers, feeling the violent hit of the chill of the early morning and ignoring it to throw my legs off the side of the bed.

I reached down to the floor to grab the wool socks I’d worn to bed (because the down didn’t kick in for a while and last night it had gotten super-chilly, then the comforter kicked in and I’d had to take them off). I yanked them on and nabbed the big, bulky, loose-knit cardigan at the end of the bed that I’d thrown on last night when it started to get cold.

I pulled it on as I stomped out, the banging stopping. But I kept motoring toward the front door even if I was in my PJs under the sweater, which meant a cropped tank top and pair of baggy but clingy silk short-shorts that had flowered embroidery up the hips.

I tore my hand through my hair as I saw a white T-shirt at the door and suddenly I was not one with the idea that Deke Whoever-He-Was was not the only man in the universe for me.

Suddenly, I was ticked off that Deke Whoever-He-Was had not felt the same as me yonks ago in Wyoming, which meant we’d spent the ensuing time together and he knew I stayed up until earliest midnight and never got out of bed before nine.

Which was what I’d done last night, reading in my cold-as-fuck bedroom until two in the morning.

I unlocked and yanked open the door just as the pounding started again.

“Okay, okay,” I snapped, looking up at hot, man-bunned, colossal, alert Deke, a Deke who was so hot, the man bun worked so well on him, was so big and so…Deke, I didn’t notice his eyes take a quick journey south upon my opening the door. I just declared, “I’m up. What the hell?”

His brows shot together and his attention cut to my face. “What the hell?”

“Yes, what the hell?” I asked.

“Woman, I’m here to work on your house,” he informed me.

“I know that, Deke,” I returned. “But it’s not even seven in the morning.”

“Hours seven to four,” he stated shortly, something I vaguely remembered Max mentioning to me during our meeting. “For you, since you want overtime, seven to six. It’s seven.”

“It’s ten to seven,” I shared.

“It’s as good as seven,” he shot back. “You want me to show right at seven, whatever. I’ll do that tomorrow. Now I’m here.”

“Yes, and the here you’re here for, it’s my understanding, requires work outside the house. Not you banging on the door and dragging me out of my bed.”

“Can’t start work on a property without letting the owner know I’m around.”

“Is that a rule?”

“You want me to get on with it without disturbing your beauty rest, I’ll do that too. But just sayin’, construction ain’t quiet.”

He had me there.

And I was acting crazy, something I was wont to do on the rare occasion I was dragged out of bed before nine.

But Deke hadn’t spent the last seven years learning that about me so I reined it in.

“Point taken,” I granted. “Now I know you’re here. Go for it. I’ll keep the door open if you need anything. Do you want coffee?”

He did a slow blink.

It was hotter than him just standing there which in and of itself was hot enough.

“You bite my head off and ten seconds later offer me coffee?”

A new tone from Deke.

Incredulous.

“I’ll be making some, and if you drink it, I can make you some too,” I pointed out.

“Had some already.”

It was my turn to blink.

“You’ve been up long enough to make and drink coffee?” I asked.

“There are some of us who live in the real world, gypsy princess,” he struck out, his aim true, and I felt the sting of the bite. “Get up. Get juiced up. Go to work. That’s what real people do.”