Free Designed for Love (Texas Nights) by Kelsey Browning Page B

pocket and swiped at his sweating face, even though the temperature was in the sixties. “And who the hell’re you?”
    Ashton arranged her face into her best let’s-work-together-for-a-win-win smile and held out her hand. “I’m Ashton Davenport, Adelaide Chappell’s granddaughter.”
    “Where’s Mrs. Chappell?” He shook her hand in that catch-and-release way some older men thought women still liked. “She’s the one supposed to meet me out here.”
    “Plans for Lily Lake have changed a bit. I’ll be managing this project instead.”
    Cravens looked Ashton up and down. All assessment, no innuendo. Well, that was a relief. “What’re you, eighteen?”
    “I can assure you I’m plenty old enough to handle this project.”
    “Ever run a multimillion-dollar commercial construction job before?”
    “No, but—”
    “Butt’s right. Does Mrs. Chappell think I’m some half-assed GC who’ll work with someone so wet behind the ears her whole head needs to be wrung out?”
    Obviously, polite “let’s work together” wouldn’t work with this man. This time, Ashton’s smile showed plenty of teeth even though her legs wanted to run and hide. “If that’s the case, then I’m sure there are other general contractors who would be more than happy to have a multimillion-dollar notch in their belts. Although it was nice to meet you, Mr. Cravens, I can see this might not be the project for you.”
    “Whoa, whoa there, Miss Big Britches. You trying to fire me?”
    “You obviously aren’t comfortable working with someone of my experience, so I assume you’re resigning. I’m sorry you drove all the way out here just to discover this project isn’t for you.”
Please
,
please don’t call my bluff.
I’m no better at poker than I am at blackjack.
“I’m happy to walk you back to your truck and—”
    “Fine,” he snapped.
    Her legs stopped their yellow-bellied shaking. “Fine, what?”
    “Fine, I’ll work with you,” he huffed. “On one condition.”
    “Which is?”
    “I’ve got a helluva lot more experience than you do. If I say we do something a certain way, then that’s the way we’re gonna do it.”
    “You can’t expect me to just accept your judgment and decisions, no questions asked.”
    His sausage-sized finger looked even bigger when he jabbed it close to her nose. “You can ask questions, but I’ve been doing this for going on forty years now. If I say we do something, it’s because I know it works. You, on the other hand, know jacksh—” He broke off and glanced down at his feet.
    “I believe the word you’re looking for is
shit.
”
    “Look, I don’t mean disrespect. But construction, it can be a rough business. If you’re gonna get your pretty little head all offended every time you hear a bad word, this isn’t gonna work.”
    “You’re the one who censored your words.” She tapped her clipboard. “Now, why don’t we get down to business?”
    “Follow me.” He took off walking, striding through the thick underbrush along the shore. “We’ll start with about fifty lakeside lots. If we keep them to under a half acre each, we can make the most of the lakefront available and—”
    “No.” Ashton drew even with him.
    “What did you say?”
    “I said no.” She riffled through her notes. “I want to start by building something that can be used by the community as a whole. An outdoor facility for events and one other community-wide amenity. I’m thinking an over-water deck that could be used for fishing or small gatherings.”
    “That doesn’t make sense. You need to sell off the lots so you have money to fund those fancy extras women always want.”
    Ashton pulled a bundle of papers from her bag. “In my research, I’ve found that half the developments never make good on their promises for all those extras that attract homebuyers in the first place. Lots of developers make big promises about playgrounds, clubhouses, picnic pavilions. But not all of them