Free Melting Point by Terry Towers Page A

redone."
    He paused, started to say something, stopped himself, turned and walked off in the direction of a group of men – the same men she’d noticed earlier lounging around one of the company's pick-up trucks.
    She was almost finished packing her equipment up, when she felt someone else behind her. With an exhausted sigh, she spun around to come face to face with the new guy. Trent, she believed his name was.
    She couldn't help herself from looking him up and down. He wa s a solid foot taller than her, with dark hair and eyes. She had to admire his strong build. She also found her eyes lingering over his broad shoulders, covered with a tight-fitting, red t-shirt with United Welding printed across the front in bold white letters. His powerful thighs were clad in faded blue jeans. When her gaze finally reached his face, she noticed it had grown a couple of shades redder. His lips wore a slightly embarrassed smile. Evidently he hadn't missed her blatant evaluation of him.
    Perhaps I'm picking up some of the guys ’ undesirable habits? she mused. The inability to ogle discreetly. Before I know it I’ll be belching and farting in public, if I don’t watch myself. Okay, maybe it won’t get that bad.
    "Don't pay any mind to my brother, he was born an ass hole."
    She smiled weakly, feeling a blush color her fair skin. "I never do. Won't start now."
    "I'm Trent, by the way," he said, extending his hand to her.
    " Faith," she responded with a smile.
    Pulling her welding gloves off and tossing them into her toolbox she took his hand. His handshake was firm and seemed to linger just that extra moment longer. As he pulled his hand away she felt a stirring in her stomach. The stirring demanded more of his touch, but she pushed it down deep and with force. Faith wasn't about to break one of her cardinal rules for any man, regardless of how attracted she seemed to be to him.
    The cardinal rule was simple. Never, ever get involved with the men you work with. Ever . If you did you were simply begging for trouble.
    Been there, done that, won't be doing it again. Being the interloper was one thing. Being that interloper who slept around was a dozen times worse.
    The y continued watching each other, sharing a tense, awkward moment, before he gave her a final smile, nodded and sauntered off. She watched as he walked away, paying close attention to his sexy, tight ass under the denim.
    She had just finished packing up her things and was in the process of removing the elastic from her sweat- and dirt-filled shoulder-length, chocolate brown hair when she heard the foreman’s announcement for everyone to be ready for inspections of their work. Brian had been the one working closest to her, a mere few yards away. Quickly he manned his station. He could have been on the other end of the work site and it would still have been too close for her liking.
    She watched as the inspector went from person to person ensuring that everyone's welds were up to code. He inspected Brian's work directly before Faith’s. Even though she tried not to look or eavesdrop, she couldn't help herself. She wasn't close enough to him to hear everything, but she was able to hear him being told his work was horseshit and he would need to gouge it out and redo it first thing Monday morning.
    Serves the asshole right for rushing through his work then having the balls to ridicule me .
    Faith found that she was smiling despite herself, so she looked away for fear Brian would notice she had heard what the inspector had said.
    Head down, eyes straight ahead.
    She was next.
    The inspector was a small, pudgy man , perhaps an inch or two taller than her 5'2. He wore thick, black, horn-rimmed glasses. She watched as he visually inspected her work, making notes on the pad he carried with him. He was one of the few men on the site who didn’t seem to take notice of the fact she was a woman.
    "Visually, it look s sound," he mumbled, more to himself than to her. He dug into his case