Read Online A Small-Town Homecoming by Terry McLaughlin - Free Book Online Page B

in the paperwork late at night or before dawn.
    She could have stopped and asked how things were going, in a friendly manner, instead of scooting past. It would probably improve their business relationship if she’d make an appearance and mention her admiration for what Quinn had accomplished in near-record time. Still, she’d prefer to check on the site when he wasn’t there.
    It wasn’t because she was uncomfortable with what they’d discussed in her office that Monday afternoon following the vandalism incident. There was no point in ignoring the mutual attraction, especially if there was a chance they could enjoy the possible benefits without gumming up the work. A pretty slim chance, given the fact that he hadn’t made a move in her direction, even after she’d given him the green light.
    No, it was because the man made her uncomfortable with his impassive stare and his unnatural stillness. And she didn’t want to hand him an excuse to accuse her of sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong.
    Even if her nose had a right to be stuck in any place she chose to stick it at Tidewaters.
    Several blocks from the bakery, Tess parked herroadster between a row of pickups and the pump operator’s boom truck. Before collecting the coffee and pastries, she brushed back her bangs and then pulled on the second layer of a matched-sweater set that coordinated with the casual tan slacks she’d chosen for today’s wardrobe challenges. And then she carefully picked her way across the muddy job site in her pretty new low-heeled boots, careful to avoid the worst of the mud.
    Circling around a stack of rebar, she paused near the ridiculously handsome driver washing out a Keene Concrete mixer. “Shorthanded today?”
    “Nope.” Jack Maguire flashed a deeply dimpled grin at her as he sprayed the chute. “Spying.”
    “Didn’t Charlie give you a full report?” Her friend had delivered the first load early this morning.
    “Can’t let her have all the fun. I wanted to check on things for myself.” He stepped to the side and hung the hose on its hook. “And I wanted to personally deliver a dinner invitation. For tonight, if you can manage to pry yourself away from all the excitement here. I know it’ll be tough. There’s nothing like watching concrete setting up…unless it’s watching grass growing.”
    “That depends on the concrete. This happens to be mine. In a supervisory sense, anyway.”
    “You’re not going to mark your initials in it, are you?”
    “ Please. I’m a professional. I’ve got a stamp. Just kidding,” she added when Jack shot her a quizzical look.
    “I figured. I didn’t think Quinn would let you pull a stunt like that, anyway.”
    She ignored the reference to the contractor and lifted the bag of fritters. “Are you cooking?”
    Jack nodded as he pulled off his gloves to take one of the pastries Tess offered. “Extra-thick steaks, mycountry-bean salad and a bottle of Napa Valley champagne. To celebrate Tidewaters’ foundation.”
    Tess turned to study the view, her heart swelling with pride and anticipation. Wide, slick surfaces of gray concrete spread along the bay’s shore, boxed in by stake-studded forms. Quinn’s crew guided the power trowels, smoothing the surface as it hardened.
    “Sounds good,” she said. “But I want to stay here until they’re finished.”
    “I reckoned that might be the case. Looks to me like they’ve just about wrapped things up.” Jack stuffed the last bite of fritter into his mouth before removing the chutes and placing them on their hangers. “Another hour or two, then, at most. No problem. We’ll wait till you and Quinn show up.”
    “Quinn?”
    “He’s invited, too. Come on, Tess,” Jack said when he noticed her scowl. “He’s a big part of this, too.”
    “And one of your biggest customers.” She felt a pout coming on, damn it. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t waste any emotional energy on Quinn this week, but she wasn’t having