Page 14 of Perfect Guy

Madelyn

My encounter with Canaan has been replaying in my head. I didn’t expect to see anyone when I climbed the water tower the other night. Yet he was there, sitting silently. I was seeking a place to think, and the reason I needed to think was right there. It’s like the universe likes to prank me.

When I saw Canaan at the construction site on Monday, I attempted to keep my eyes off him. I spoke to the project manager and witnessed how they had already broken ground since they were able to start on that part of the job before I finished the plans. A giddiness spiked inside of me, and I wanted to squeal like a crazed fangirl at her favorite boy band’s concert.

I can’t wait to see more of the process today.

This is what I always dreamed of. This was my ultimate goal. For months, I’ve felt stripped of it until Canaan asked me if I was interested in this job. I hesitated a moment before agreeing to talk to Bill. I didn’t want the same experience to repeat itself. A pretty, young woman taken as an idiot. I want jobs based on my talent, not my looks.

Everything just flew from there, and now we’re breaking ground on my first true design, not something I had to create for a class portfolio, nor a job offered based on conditions that involve sexual favors as a thank you.

I came so close to telling Canaan about that when we were at the water tower. I held back, biting my words. I don’t want pity. It happens to a ton of people, unfortunately. It’s insignificant in the grand scheme of things since I left the job and any other contact with that professor.

I′ve always considered myself a strong person. I′m tough. I was raised with two older brothers on a ranch. My daddy taught me to shoot a gun when I was old enough to understand gun safety. Wilder and Levi taught me how to defend myself if anyone ever attacked me. I′m the proverbial tomboy.

While college helped me break away from that role a bit, bringing out a more feminine side, deep down, I′m always going to be the same girl, though. Just the thought that me trying to be something different than I′d always been attracted my professor to talk to me that way makes me so angry.

I should let it go already, brush it off and live my life as I want. I’m proving to myself that I have what it takes to get a job on my own, even if a temporary one. I don’t need so-called favors from egotistical professors. I’m stronger than that, always have been.

Hell, if I didn’t know how to fend for myself growing up, my brothers would end up eating all the bacon and leaving me with the worst chores on the ranch.

Looking around the site today, I breathe in the fresh morning air and smile. The foundation in progress gives the land a clear view of whatwe’re doing. It’s all starting to take shape.

“What do you think?” Oscar, the project manager, walks up to me. He hands me a hard hat, which I take and place on my head without question.

I’ve learned about safety on sites in my classes and know the precautions to take. I’d like to be alive and well to see my first baby done.

I spot Canaan a few feet away, drilling together two wood planks. He hasn’t seen me yet, so I walk in the opposite direction. It was less than a week ago that we were dancing together, and he was flirting. Now, I’m avoiding him. I’m not even sure why. Getting involved with Canaan is a complication, but we can be friends.

That doesn’t stop me from thinking about him.

How do you go from seeing a guy like a friend to fantasizing about him at the snap of a finger? Maybe because I’ve been away in college for a few years, and although I’d visit, it was a short weekend trip or for the holidays. Maybe it’s because I no longer feel like a little girl trying to catch up with her older brothers. I’m finally an adult, and that changes perspectives.

“This looks great,” I tell Oscar, trying to focus on the moment and not get lost in my thoughts. I need to be present.

Eventually, we make our way around toward where Canaan is working. Our eyes collide, causing my heart to skip a beat when those dark green eyes sweep over me. He doesn’t say a word, but there are unspoken things in his gaze. I offer a small, professional smile and a nod.

His arms flex as he holds a wood beam and drills a screw to hold it against another piece of wood. He wipes the back of his gloved hand across his forehead before turning his attention back to his work. He looks sexy when he’s so focused.

After my walk-through, I talk to Oscar for a few more minutes and leave the site. I don’t need to be present the entire time, but I’ll likely be around more when there’s more of a structure. Happy with the progress, I drive back to town and stop at Java Jitters.

The barista gives me a sly smile when I walk in. It’s not full since it’s already mid-morning, so I walk straight to the counter to order.

“Hey, Madelyn…” Her eyes twinkle as her smile broadens. “What can I get you?”

“A latte, please.” I’m unsure why she’s looking at me as if she’s in on a secret, but I shake it off and add, “For here.”

“Sounds good.” I pay her and take a seat.

I look around the shop. The few people who are here stare at me until I hold their gaze and lift my brows. Quickly, they look away, whispering something. What in the…

I don’t have time to think about it since the barista calls my name. I stand to grab my coffee, and she remains on that side of the counter with the same smile.

“Okay, do I have something on my face?” I wipe my cheeks. “What the heck?”

“No,” she furrows her eyebrows.

“Then why do you keep smiling at me like I’m…I don’t know what.” I throw my hands in the air.