The Bride Plan. Кейси Майклс

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      Jace turned to look at his head framer, who was holding the unrolled plans in his hands and looking confused.

      “I know it’s the hard way, Carl. The back of the house consists of the owner’s bedroom and bath upstairs and, downstairs, the room where they store the wedding gowns and all that stuff. We can’t just rip out those walls and have them open to the elements until we get the job done. Not to mention the noise.”

      “Uh-huh,” Carl said, nodding. “But we are going to strip off the siding before the new walls go up, get rid of the shutters, the rain gutters, right? Tie in to the electricity and plumbing, since there’s going to be another bathroom? Then just cut in the two doors giving access to the building, right, cutting through those two existing windows? No way we can do any of that without some noise and dirt. We’re not knitting a sweater here, Jace. The owner knows that, right?”

      Before Jace could answer there came the shrill beeping sound of a warning signal and the rumble from the engine of a piece of heavy equipment backing up into the yard along the cement driveway. This was followed hard by the squeal of massive air brakes, the grinding noise of gears meshing, lifting and then loudly depositing the large metal Dumpster that would hold the construction waste. The ground beneath them actually shook a little from the impact.

      “I’d say she does now,” Jace said, grinning. “Okay, get the guys up on the ladders and start stripping off that siding. I’ll be back later to see how it’s going.”

      He’d almost made it to the alley at the back of the yard, and to his car, when he saw her. Her appearance hit his brain in separate bursts of information. Coppery curls tumbling wildly around a pale oval face. Eyes as blue as the summer sky and big as quarters at the moment. A slim, trim, not-too-tall body, with pinup-calendar-worthy legs that went up to her ears. A chest that heaved up and down interestingly as she seemed to be trying to catch her breath. She wasn’t wearing a bra under that T-shirt, either. Nice. Bare feet. A TV remote clutched in her right hand.

      A TV remote?

      “Wh-what do you think you’re doing?”

      Nice voice, he added mentally. Sort of husky. Sexy. Possibly slightly tinged with homicidal rage, but still sexy.

      “Uh—Jace?” Carl said, backing up as the woman advanced on him. “You wanna come back here a minute?”

      Jace tipped back his baseball cap as he approached, holding on to the bill as he said, “Ma’am. Your neighbor didn’t tell you we were beginning construction today?”

      “Neighbor? What neighbor? I—” she gestured rather wildly toward the building “—I own this place.”

      This was Chessie Burton? For the next four weeks or so, he could come to the job site and she’d be here? Every day? And who said the gods weren’t kind?

      “So you’re Chessie Burton? Marylou’s business partner?”

      “No. Marylou is my business partner. I’m the senior part—Oh, who cares? I live here. You should have checked with me before you started playing the “Anvil Chorus” on the back of my house.”

      He could kiss her. Right here, right now, for no good reason he could think of, Jace really wanted to kiss her. She was so damned cute …

      “What’s the matter? Why are you grinning like that? And another thing—who the hell are you? Do you know it’s only seven freaking o’clock in the morning? What do you do for an encore—march a brass band through here? Maybe some elephants bringing up the rear?”

      “Name’s Jace. Jace Edwards. Elephants? Let me guess. Not a morning person, are you?” Jace asked, doing his best not to laugh. God, she was magnificent. A little on the wacko side of normal, maybe, but he hadn’t seen anything this good in the morning—or at any time, come to think of it—in a long, long time. Maybe never.

      She rolled those big blue eyes. “Oh, he made a funny. Ha. Ha.”

      The sound of industrious hammering and ripping of siding quickly followed. Clearly, Carl and the crew had heard enough.

      She waved the TV remote in Jace’s face, then seemed to realize she was holding what might be construed as a weapon, and lowered her arm. “Make … them … stop.”

      “You don’t want the addition?” He was being mean to a clearly upset woman, but he couldn’t help himself.

      “No—yes! Yes, I want the addition. I just don’t want it at seven o’clock in the morning. I don’t want anything at seven o’clock in the morning, at least not until I’ve had my coffee, damn it! And stop grinning at me like that. What did you say your name was again?”

      “Jace,” he told her, this time leaving off the Edwards as he held out his hand to her. “And you’re Chessie Burton. I think Marylou and I had some miscommunication when we met here two weeks ago to plan out the job. In a couple of ways.”

      “Uh-huh,” Chessie said, holding out her own hand, and then quickly transferring the remote to her left palm before she shook hands with him. “I was working a wedding and couldn’t be here. Look, I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot here, and I’m sure you and Marylou will work together just fine, but one minute I was asleep, and the next I thought the world was about to end. I’m not usually so … so fierce.”

      “Apology accepted, Ms. Burton.”

      “That wasn’t an apology, it was an explanation,” she said, turning mulish again.

      “Okay. And while you’re explaining—what’s with the TV remote?”

      “I fell asleep on the couch last night,” she said quietly, her freckled cheeks blushing a pretty pink. “I don’t know why I’m holding the stupid thing. Are you going to start every morning at seven?”

      “I’ll talk with the guys. Maybe they’ll want to go eight to six instead of seven to five. Of course, then Carl over there won’t be able to pick up his grandson from his day care, and Jimmy’s a newlywed, and you know how new brides are. Oh, and George has to get home because his wife works part-time at—”

      “All right, all right, I get it. You start at seven. At least now I’ll be prepared.”

      “But hopefully not armed,” Jace said, actually feeling a little sorry for her. Nobody liked to wake up thinking the world was about to end. But not sorry enough to keep him from beginning to unbutton his shirt, because he wasn’t blind, and he’d noticed how she’d been looking at him. Faintly mad … but at least marginally interested. Which was good, because he was feeling pretty interested himself. It was a good enough reason for making a jerk of himself, if he were still in high school. But what the hell. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ms. Burton, I’ve got to get to work.”

      Chessie’s eyes widened slightly as she watched him strip out of his shirt and toss it over an azalea bush that was still blooming. Smiling, he grabbed a short pry-bar from Jimmy’s tool belt and headed for the rear of the house even as she was making a pretty fast retreat back down the path to the side door leading into the Victorian.

      Safety glasses in place, he inserted the pry-bar and began stripping off a length of siding, the morning sun feeling good against his bare back.

      “I thought Bob was going СКАЧАТЬ