The Haneys: What You Do To Me Part 3

"Good, because I certainly will not be initiating . . . anything." She lifted her prim little nose into the air. "I want to learn as much as I can about home repair. I'll try not to get underfoot, but think of me as your new apprentice. My involvement with the work being done means odd hours and working around my schedule. Are you OK with that?"

"When you say odd hours, what are we talking?" He glanced at her. "Evenings? Weekends?" This could seriously cut into his personal life, and the hockey tournament season was about to begin. "I do have other obligations."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. We can work around your other obligations."

Again with the smug. Who does she think she is? Or rather, who does she think I am? "I can do a few weeknights and maybe Sat.u.r.day mornings, but it will take longer to get the job done. Will that suit you?"

"Yes. When do we start?"

"Can I call you once I know my schedule?" he asked. "I'm going to have to coordinate with my brother. He'll help me get the old stuff out of here, and he'll be the one taking care of the electrical work."

"Sure." Haley walked to her dining room table and tore off a corner of his estimate. She grabbed a pen and scrawled her name and number down. "You can reach me on my cell."

"I'll arrange for a dumpster to be delivered. If you have it placed in your driveway, we won't have to pay for a permit." Sam took the sc.r.a.p from her. Their fingers touched, and his stomach flipped. The same thing had happened when he'd drawn her close, but then he'd blamed it on antic.i.p.ation. This was nothing but a simple exchange. Odd.

He stared at her. More blotches appeared on her neck and crept up to her cheeks. Awkward seconds ticked by, and still he stood like an idiot with his stomach knotted and his tongue tied.

"Great." She broke eye contact first. "Let me know when the dumpster will be delivered, and I'll be sure to park in the street." She started for the front door, opening it wide again. "I'm expecting someone soon, so if you don't mind . . ." She gestured toward the outside.

"Oh. Right." He didn't like it. He didn't like the way she affected him one little bit. "I'll drop some catalogs off for you. If you're not home, I'll put them inside your storm door, and I'll give you a call next week."

"Do that."

The door closed behind him. Sam shook himself free of the annoying sensations she'd caused. The only reason he'd reacted to Haley Cooper the way he had was because she'd rejected him and insulted his skill as a tradesman. That's all there was to it. Wasn't it? He did admire her determination to learn, the way she set the ground rules, and he had to admit her quick wit appealed to him.

Still frowning, he climbed into his van and headed for The Bulldog. His brother and sister were waiting for him. A few cousins and friends were bound to show up too. He'd have a couple beers, a burger and call it a night.

Half an hour later, Sam settled himself into the high-top chair Wyatt and Josey had saved for him at their favorite watering hole. "You'll never guess what happened at an estimate I did this afternoon. I-"

"Let me guess," his younger brother quipped, his hoodie pulled up over his head as usual. "You didn't get laid on the job."

His sister laughed, and he scowled at both of them. "Ha-ha. Very funny." The server laid a coaster down in front of him. He smiled at her. She smiled back, and a spark of interest flickered in her blue eyes. He turned away. Not tonight. He wasn't even tempted. Couldn't she see he was just being friendly? "I'll have a Michelob Golden in a bottle, please. No mug."

"Coming right up. Anyone else need anything?" she asked, keeping her eyes on him.

Wyatt and Josey each ordered another beer, and Sam chewed on the Haley-and-her-mother puzzle.

"So?" Josey nudged him. "What happened on the estimate?"

"Huh?" Sam tore his eyes away from the tabletop. "Oh. You know that radio show fiasco last week?"

"Yeah." Wyatt sighed. "You're killing me, Sam. You know that, right? Ever since that stupid show, I've had women throwing themselves at me, thinking I must be like you because I'm a Haney." He pulled the hood of his sweats.h.i.+rt lower over his forehead. "It's enough to make me think about changing careers. I should've gone into the accounting business. A small, quiet office somewhere in the back of a building would be nice." He glanced at Josey. "Women don't throw themselves at accountants, do they, Jo?"

"How should I know?" She frowned. "I've never met an accountant, since I do my own taxes. Besides, I wouldn't throw myself at anyone, no matter what they did for a living."

"Sorry, Wyatt. Didn't mean for my s.h.i.+t to spill over into your life, but at least now you know women aren't put off by the scars." Sam shot his brother an apologetic look. Wyatt grunted and scowled back at him.

His brother had been eight when he'd decided he needed to find out what would happen if he squirted lighter fluid onto hot coals. Their dad had been getting ready to barbeque, and he'd only stepped into the house for a minute to get the burgers. A minute was all it took for Wyatt to set himself on fire. Sam still remembered the screams, the smell and the shrill sound of the siren as the ambulance came to take his brother away.

He shuddered, and turned his mind away from the memory just as the server returned with their beers. The three of them placed their orders for food, and he waited until the waitress left before continuing. "Can we get back to my story?"

Jo shrugged, and Wyatt grinned. At least the mood had lightened. He launched into a brief description of the day's events from the time Haley's mother requested he do the estimate to what had happened at her house. "Why would someone do that? Do you think I'm the b.u.t.t of some kind of sick joke here, or what?"

"Well." Wyatt smirked. "You're definitely a b.u.t.t, and you're pretty much a joke as far as I'm concerned." Josey and Wyatt laughed.

Sam stared his brother down, far too used to his brother's teasing.

"Don't worry about it." Wyatt shook his head. "You're not taking the job, right? There were bound to be repercussions from the radio show. Just be prepared to let a few jobs go. Eventually people will forget about you and move on to other things."

"I'm doing the job, and you're going to help, Wyatt."

"What?" Josey leaned forward. "Did I hear you right? After a setup like that you're taking the job?"

He nodded, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"Why?" the two said in unison.

"Because Ms. Cooper thinks I have to offer s.e.x on the side to get work." He focused on peeling the Michelob label from the gla.s.s. "I'm good at what I do, dammit." He had his reputation as a tradesman to defend, and for some reason, he needed to prove to Ms. Cooper that she had him all wrong.

Haley answered the door the minute Kathy knocked. "You'll never guess what just happened." Indignation still thrummed through her veins. She needed to vent, or she'd call her mom and give her a piece of her mind. Until she calmed down, that would be a mistake. Fighting with her mom never accomplished anything, and doing so would only make her more miserable. Talking it through with Kathy would help, and then she'd decide how best to deal with her meddling mother.

"OK. I won't guess." Kathy took off her coat and laid it over the back of Haley's couch. "Tell me."

"You remember that handyman from Loaded Question?" Haley paced around her living room.

"Sure I do. Why?"

"You'll never guess-"

"You already said that." Kathy stood in front of her, stopping her midpace. "Spill it, Haley."

"My mother hired Sam Haney to work on my house. He was here. He made a pa.s.s at me."

Kathy let loose a loud peal of laughter. "You're kidding."

"I'm not." Haley shook her head. "He's gorgeous, by the way. Dreamy, like that guy who plays Thor in all those Marvel comic book movies. Only Sam's hair is really curly."

"Sam looks like Chris Hemsworth?"

She nodded.

"Wow."

Haley nodded again. "My mother set me up for a one-night stand with Sam the Handyman from Loaded Question." She paced again. "Can you believe that?" It was pace or tear out her hair, and she didn't want to have to redo the hair before they went out. "She's really outdone herself this time."

"It could have been a coincidence, Haley. What are the odds that your mother heard about Hands-On-Haney?"

"Oh, this was no coincidence." She swung around to face her friend. "When Mom called to make the appointment, she pretended to be me. My mother told Sam that I wanted his special touch."

"Oh . . . wow." Kathy's eyes went wide. "Can we trade mothers?"

"Absolutely. Take her. She's yours." Haley paced again. "You have no idea what she's like. Once, when I was in the fifth grade, the most popular girl in my cla.s.s was having a birthday party sleepover, and I wasn't invited." She arched a brow. "My mother called her mother and wheedled her into inviting me."

"What did you do?"

"I refused to go of course, but I suffered the mean-girl teasing and hara.s.sment for the rest of the school year. Thank goodness she and I ended up in different middle schools."

"That must have been mortifying," Kathy said.

"It was." Haley nodded. "Then there was the time my freshman year in high school when I was feeling down because I hadn't been asked to the homecoming dance. Trudy paid a neighbor boy to ask me to the dance. She swore him to secrecy, but he told me anyway." She snorted. "Those are only two examples out of many, many more. You still want her?"

"Um, no. I get it. She's over the top, but have you talked to her, asked her what she intended when she hired Sam?"

"Not yet." Haley stopped and tapped her chin. "I wanted to calm down first, give it some thought." She grinned. "You know what I'm thinking?"

"Again. I have no idea. Quit asking me questions I can't answer." Kathy threw her hands up. "What are you thinking?"

"My mother is going to go crazy wondering what happened here today. I'm going to let her stew in her own juices." Haley laughed out loud. "I'm not saying a word to her about Sam Haney and what happened today. That ought to fix her wagon."

"Haley."

"What?"

"You just laughed. It's been a while since I've heard you laugh, and I like the sound." Kathy put her hands on Haley's shoulders and gave her a shake. "It's good to see you happy, even if the cause is something so bizarre. So, tell me all about Handyman Haney."

"Oh, he's a tall piece of man-fluff." She flapped her hand in the air and paced again. "Nice to look at, but . . ."

"But?"

"I don't know." Sam had been considerate enough to walk back to her door with electrical caps. Plus, before he'd made the pa.s.s at her, she'd been all for having him do the job. He was efficient, professional and he clearly knew what he was about. He'd agreed to keep his hands to himself and teach her as they went. He wanted to prove his skills as a carpenter, and she appreciated his efforts. Still, he was a promiscuous hound dog.

"He's going to teach me stuff about home repair, and I get to watch him flex his muscles." She laughed again. "You should have seen the look on his face when he realized my mother pimped him out."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was like watching one of those old silent movies on steroids. His expressions changed so fast I had a hard time keeping up. Poor guy." A car pulled into her driveway. "They're here."

Kathy put her coat on. "Why poor guy?"

"If everyone at our law firm's reaction is anything to go by, along with what we've seen on social media, he's been the b.u.t.t of everyone's jokes since that radio show aired last Monday. And now my own mother is using him for . . . I don't know what. Who knows what Trudy Cooper is up to? I wouldn't want to be in Sam's shoes right now, but he is the one who stepped into them."

She shook her head and snorted. "Besides all of that, he doesn't strike me as the kind of man who gets rejected. Ever. I can see why women throw themselves at his feet." Haley grabbed her coat from the closet. She grinned at her friend. "Let's go get a little stupid and have some fun."

"I like this new att.i.tude. I think maybe Sam the Handyman is good for you."

"He's not for me at all. Not my type. Definitely no dating potential there. He's done it with just about-"

"You know, Haley, it's all right to go out with a man just for fun. They don't all have to be husband candidates."

One guy. She'd had one man in her life. Period. And he'd broken her heart. "I've never done the casual dating thing."

"Maybe it's time you did. Play the field. Learn what it is you want in a mate, and what it is you don't want."

"I'll give it some thought, but I don't really know how to meet men. I don't want to go out with some guy I met at a bar or a nightclub though, that's for sure."

"Why not? We're nice, normal women, aren't we?"

"Yeah, so?" She opened her door and gestured for Kathy to go out first so she could lock up.

"We're going clubbing. Don't you think there are decent men out there who are doing the exact same thing we are tonight, and for the same reasons? Everybody needs to blow off steam and have a little fun now and then."

"Hmm. Hadn't thought of it like that." Her enthusiasm for their club crawl rose a notch. Maybe she would meet someone nice-or at least someone to dance with tonight.

"Sam said he normally doesn't do the touching part until after the job is finished, but for me he was willing to make an exception." Laughter spilled out of her again. "He is hot, and kind of sweet, in a messed-up way."

"Fling."

"We'll see." Did she have it in her? "We'll see."

Trudy added b.u.t.ter and milk to the ceramic bowl of boiled potatoes and started the electric hand mixer to mash them. She glanced at the clock. Haley hadn't called her after Haney & Sons did her estimate. How had things gone with Sam? The timer dinged, and she stopped the mixer and reached for the oven mitts. Pulling Sunday's pot roast out of the oven, she inhaled. "Mmm."

"Hey, Mom." Frank Junior poked his head through the back door. "Wow, it smells good in here."

"Thanks." She smiled at her youngest. "Did you pick up the rolls like I asked?"

He handed her the bag dangling from his hand. "I did, and I also bought a cherry pie while I was at Kowalski's grocery store. I hope that's OK."

"Oh, good. I didn't make a dessert."

Haley trailed Junior through the door. Trudy's heart leaped to her throat. Had she done the right thing? The wrong thing? She studied Haley. She didn't look any different.

"Hi, Mom." Haley set a ca.s.serole dish on the kitchen counter and unwrapped the scarf around her neck. "Yum, pot roast. I'm starving." She gave her younger brother a hug. "Good to see you, Junior. How's school?"

"Stressful." He hugged her back.

Her children took their coats off and hung them on the hooks by the back door. Trudy frowned. Had the handyman made a move on Haley or not? "Dinner's ready. Junior, go tell your father it's time to eat. He's in the family room watching the game."

"Dad," Junior shouted, "grub's on."

"Coming," her husband called back.

Trudy tsked and shook her head. "I could've done that."

Grinning, Haley wrapped her arm around her mom's shoulders. "Do you need me to do anything?"

"Take the potatoes to the table, and then you can pour the wine." Her hands full, Trudy gestured toward the fridge with her elbow. "The bottle is already open. It's on the bottom shelf of the door."

A few minutes later, her family was seated at the dining room table. Trudy pa.s.sed the platter of pot roast to her husband. "How'd it go with the construction company yesterday?" she asked, forcing the burning curiosity out of her tone.