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Authors: Rachel Hawthorne

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BOOK: The Boyfriend Project
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Chapter 19

KENDALL

“Hot studs,” Jade said. “And I am not talking about the nails being hammered into the wood.”

I didn't think she was. I was wishing I were still at the beach when I arrived at the shelter on Tuesday. I'd needed a little more time to get things right with Jeremy. He said we were okay, but things still seemed a little off-kilter. I tried to shake it off. Right now I needed to worry about the dogs.

I'd just let one of the strays—Jaime Lannister—that had come in over the weekend out into the fenced yard to romp around for a bit. From there, I could see that a lot of progress had already been made on the new addition to the shelter. Cement had been poured, and the frame was up.

Darla, who preferred hosing down the kennels to being
outside because of her fair skin, surprised me by stepping outside with a dog and unhooking its leash.

“Oh, wow,” she said, “there is just something about a rolled-up sleeve that makes my heart palpitate.”

I nearly strangled on the laugh I tried to swallow back. “Down, girl.”

She knocked her shoulder against mine. “There is one guy over there, a blond. Tall, slender, but his sleeves are rolled up, and I'm telling you—”

“I've already got dibs on him,” Jade said.

“You can't call dibs on every guy you see,” Darla said. “You called dibs on Chase.”

“Well, now I'm going with Thor.”

“Thor?” I didn't hold back my laughter with that.

“Close enough,” Jade said. “There are a lot of hotties over there. Pick another one.”

“I shouldn't have pointed him out,” Darla said.

“Which one is he?” I asked, curious, but at a glance it looked like there were maybe two dozen guys at work.

“That one over there, helping to hold a board in place,” Darla said.

I followed the direction of her finger. My breath caught. It couldn't be. Mostly I could see his back and a little bit of his side, but I'd know that profile anywhere. “I'll be back,” I said.

My mind reeling, I walked through the shelter. Once I
got outside, I headed to the construction area. They'd finished with that board. The guy was reaching for another.

“Jeremy?”

Looking up, he gave me an almost shy, definitely guilty grin. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

He glanced back. “Hey, Mac, I'm taking ten!”

The guy who I assumed was the foreman waved a hand. “Over here,” Jeremy said, and led me to the back of the fenced area, so we were away from where all the work was happening. Immediately a couple of dogs rushed over and began sniffing around. He put a couple of fingers through the diamond opening, let the dogs lick him.

“Jeremy?” I prodded. “What is going on?”

He removed his hard hat, plowed his fingers through his lengthening hair, and settled the hat back into place. He sighed. “I quit my job at my dad's law office.”

“Why? When? What happened?”

“My dad and I have been butting heads for a while, and I'd just had enough. I hated working for him, listening to his opinion on things, pretending I agreed because it was easier than creating waves.”

“When did you quit?”

“Before we went to the beach.”

I felt awful. He'd been dealing with this on his own. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I didn't want to ruin our time at the beach. There was nothing you could do. It was done.”

“But you must have needed to talk.”

“No. I was good with the decision. Real good with it.”

“What about college? What about—”

He touched his fingers to my lips. “I know you have a lot of questions.”

Understatement.

“But I have to get back to work. I'll tell you everything tonight.”

“Come over for dinner. Mom has another date.”

“You're going to cook?”

“I actually know how to prepare a few things.” Lifting up on my toes, I gave him a quick kiss. “See you later.” I started to walk away. Stopped. Looked back. “By the way, Darla and Jade both think you're hot. Jade nicknamed you ‘Thor.'”

“Oh, yeah?” It looked like he puffed out his chest a bit. He definitely appeared pleased as a wide grin spread across his face. He looked toward the porch. They were both standing there. If they weren't volunteers, they'd get fired. “Tell them that I think they're hot, too.”

“No way. I'm not encouraging flirtation.” But they were right. Something about the rolled-up sleeves was just downright hot.

When I got back to the area where the kennels were,
I discovered Darla and Jade hovering near the doorway.

“Sorry, girls, he's taken,” I said, and kept walking.

“Lucky girl,” Darla said. “Anyone we know?”

I swung around and grinned. “Me. That's Jeremy Swanson.”

“I thought he was a geek,” Jade said, her brow furrowed so deeply that the stud in her eyebrow jutted up.

“He's into computers and stuff. Doesn't mean he can't be hot.”

“You go, girl,” Darla said.

“And he's one of the gunslingers.” I spun on my heel and headed off to take care of the dogs. These girls weren't going to forget about my boyfriend anytime soon.

Chapter 20

JEREMY

Fletcher had been right about Mr. Simms looking for short-term workers. I hadn't realized until he hired me that the job would be helping to build the new annex to the animal shelter. I'd hoped that Kendall would be too busy with the dogs to notice that I was here. I'd planned to tell her about my job situation tonight, but I guessed her knowing now was no big deal.

A bigger deal was watching her talk to some guy in the dog run area. Seeing as he'd brought out a couple of dogs and set them loose to romp around within the fenced zone, I didn't think he was here to adopt.

On top of that, I'd seen him kissing one of the female volunteers earlier, off to the side of the building away from any windows. So the workers inside the shelter might not have seen him, but those of us building the new
wing had certainly gotten an eyeful.

He must be that guy, Chase, Kendall had mentioned.

I didn't know him, had never spoken to him, but I didn't like him.

I didn't normally judge people. I pretty much was a live-and-let-live kind of guy but when I saw him talking to Kendall my gut clenched. She gave him such big smiles and laughed at things he said. For some reason, I found it most difficult to deal with knowing that he could make her laugh.

That was my job.

To make her laugh, to keep her happy.

I leisurely tied a folded-up bandanna around my head to absorb the sweat. It gave me time to watch them. I'd never seen her give so much attention to another guy. In high school, she'd talked to guys in the hallway but it was mostly in passing. She was always waiting for me or we were together.

“Total bummer, man,” Tommy Simms said.

I jerked my attention to him. “What?”

“That was your girl, wasn't it?”

“She's still my girl.”

“Oh.” He squirted a bottle of water over his head, didn't move when the droplets fell onto his shoulders. “I thought maybe she was with him now.”

“They just work together.”

“Okay.”

“What does that mean?” I didn't like the way he said it: like I was totally clueless.

“They've been talking for, like, ten minutes.”

“Probably about the dogs. Kendall starts talking about dogs and she loses track of time.”

“Lot of funny stuff being said about dogs.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. Just to confirm my suspicion, I asked, “You wouldn't happen to know who he is, would you?”

“Yeah, man. Chase Harper. Graduated a couple of years ago. Hung out with my brother.”

So that
was
Chase, originator of the gun show idea. Even his muscles had muscles. No wonder Kendall had suggested I beef up.

“The guy is a total babe magnet,” Tommy added.

Yeah, I could see that, and it looked like Kendall was being pulled toward him.

Every muscle, muscles I didn't know I possessed, muscles I was pretty sure I didn't possess, ached as I got out of the car at Kendall's. They'd started hurting as soon as I got home. They'd stopped bothering me while I was in the hot shower, but once I was out of it, they'd started protesting again. I was pretty sure that I was not going to be able to move tomorrow. I was eighteen years old. I should not be
so out of shape. But apparently I was.

It took everything in me not to hobble to the front door, not to groan when Kendall opened it and threw her arms around me.

“I'm so glad you're here!” she exclaimed.

I was glad I was here, too, because it meant I wasn't dead yet. I wasn't quite sure I'd be able to say the same by the morning.

“I'm starving,” I said.

Releasing her hold, she smiled brightly. “I bet you are. I can't believe you didn't tell me everything that was going on.”

I shrugged. I wasn't exactly sure why I hadn't told her. We'd always shared everything. “I was stepping out of my comfort zone. Guess I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to retreat back to it before I said anything.”

“How do you like working construction?” she asked as I followed her to the kitchen.

“I actually like it. Not enough to want to do it for the rest of my life, but I'm glad to be out of my dad's law office.” I sat on a stool at the counter. Thank goodness, it looked like everything was done, so I wouldn't have to do any moving for a while. Still, I asked, “Anything I can do to help?”

“Nope.”

She pulled a tray of garlic toast out of the oven, the
aroma wafting toward me, popped a couple of slices onto two plates, and brought them to the counter. The stools were usually set up side to side but she moved one onto the other side of the counter so she could face me. Made it easier to talk. Made it harder for me to hide any grimaces when I moved.

“So why did you do this?” she asked.

Because I was tired of my dad hinting that you were going to ruin my life.
Not that I was going to tell her that. My dad was being a jerk. No reason to hurt her feelings.

“I didn't like what I was doing,” I said as I scooped out some spaghetti and meatballs from a bowl, then dug in. I didn't know if I'd ever been this hungry in my entire life.

“So you're not going to be a lawyer?”

I swallowed, took a gulp of cold sweet tea. “Yeah, I'll still be a lawyer. Just not in my dad's law firm. Besides, being a lawyer is different from being a gofer.”

“But wouldn't it look good on your résumé?”

“It'll be years before I need a résumé, and I'll have an internship somewhere before that.” Or at least that was the plan.

She twisted spaghetti onto a fork, let it fall off. I knew she was recalibrating our life. She didn't like changes to plans. She liked everything structured. It was one of her cute little quirks.

“Why construction?” she suddenly asked.

“Little late in the summer for finding a job so I couldn't be too picky, and I definitely wanted something quick so my dad couldn't hang my not working over my head. Fletcher mentioned that he'd heard that Mr. Simms was hiring, so I talked to Tommy. He put in a good word for me. Pay isn't bad, considering I have no skills but am learning as I go.” I grinned, finding some solace in the fact that my facial muscles didn't hurt. “I also figured it would be a great way to beef up. Hauling stuff all day is bound to improve the guns. And the best benefit of all? It puts me close to the shelter and you.”

I'd expected her to laugh, or at least smile, not look more worried. “You didn't do this for me. . . .”

“I did it for me,” I assured her, although maybe part of it was for her, too.

She was still stirring her spaghetti. “I just always saw you working in an office.”

“I will eventually. This is just part of your we-need-to-explore-and-be-adventurous-this-summer mantra. Change a little. You were right.”

This time when she twirled spaghetti onto her fork, she ate it, so I figured we were good. Her initial reaction had worried me a little. I'd started to wonder if she was going to be like my dad, who only thought I had worth as
long as I was investing in a law career. He hadn't bothered to hide his disappointment in me. The men in our family did not wield hammers.

“Your dad's okay with it?”

“Not even the tiniest bit, but at least he didn't kick me out or cut off the college fund.”

Reaching across, she placed her hand over mine. “I have to admit to being impressed that you've taken this stand. It took guts. I'm proud of you. And I'll see you a little more. Maybe you can take your breaks when I'm at the shelter.”

“When I can, sure. Although—” I stabbed a meatball. “You didn't seem to be lacking for company today.”

“What do you mean?”

I met and held her gaze. “I saw you laughing an awful lot with Chase.”

Did I imagine her looking guilty? “Oh, that. He was just telling me some stuff about his dog. It has this thing it does that he calls a ‘guilty shuffle' whenever it's caught doing something it shouldn't—like chewing up his sneakers.”

“I got the impression when you talked about him before that you didn't like him.”

“He's nice enough. He's just a little too cocky and thinks he has this competition nailed.” She furrowed her brow. “How did you know it was him, anyway?”

I lifted a shoulder, regretted it as soon as I did it when the muscles protested. Fought back the grimace. “Tommy knows him.”

“Tommy Simms? We should have him in the gun show, too. I'll ask him tomorrow.”

She really had a one-track mind when it came to the shelter. Although I completely understood, because animals were so important to her.

“How long will it take to finish the wing?” she asked.

“From what I understand, the rest of the summer.”

“It's going to be so nice when we can handle more dogs.” She squeezed my hand. “You'll be part of that, of making a difference.”

“I'm making a difference with that fund-raiser.”

“That, too.”

With her fork, Kendall broke off a bit of meatball and tossed it to Bogart. The dog snatched it out of the air. Then he settled down, chin on the floor, as though that small action had tuckered him out. I was tempted to join him. I didn't know if I'd ever been so tired.

“So, your mom's date? Same guy?” I asked.

“No, someone different. He took her to the Shrimp Hut. If Avery were working tonight, I'd have her text me a photo of them.”

“You haven't seen him?”

“Nope. Mom wouldn't even tell me his name. Think
she was afraid I'd Google him.”

“Has to be hard for her to date after so long.”

She started playing with her food again. “I miss him sometimes, you know?”

“You probably always will.”

She nodded. “But some days it's more than others. It's going to be hard on Mom when I leave.”

“But it'll be good for her and you,” I said, even though I didn't know if that was true. I had no experience with psychology.

“Was today scary for you?” she asked, her green eyes filled with earnestness.

“Actually I started working yesterday. It was a little strange. Totally different environment, but I like it.”

“I still can't believe you didn't tell me.”

“I didn't want you to worry about it.”

“I wish your dad saw you like I do.”

“You mean as hot stuff?” I asked.

She laughed lightly. “No! I just wish he had more faith in you.”

Sometimes I did, too.

She dropped her fork into her bowl. “I'm done.” Then she reached for my empty bowl.

“I'll help you clean up.” I slid off the stool, moaned a little as the muscles rebelled.

Her eyes widened. “You okay?”

“Just sore.”

“Want a massage?”

“That's a lot of trouble.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What else are we going to do tonight? You're obviously not up for walking Bogart.”

“It's not that bad.”

She gave me a pointed look.

Okay, so it was that bad. I sighed. “Be gentle.”

She gave me a seductive smile that almost banished all the aches. “I think I'm about to have you exactly where I want you.”

BOOK: The Boyfriend Project
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