The Bluff (Love Stories in Sheet Cake, Texas, #2)

by Emma St. Clair

Despite the benefit of extra help, I’m stressed, irritated, and overwhelmed with a near-crippling frustration. All the tension has centered in my skull, giving me a headache to end all headaches. And a big cause of it all is the woman walking by precariously balancing a stack of rotten boards. I resist the urge to scoop them out of Winnie’s hands. She would fight me, first of all—I may not know her well, but I know this for certain. Plus, she’s shown through the day how well she can handle heavy lifting. Now that she’s wearing my gloves, I don’t need to worry about her getting splinters. She should really be wearing long sleeves to protect her arms though. Or so you won’t find yourself distracted by her tattoos? Busted. By my own internal monologue. All day long, I’ve struggled. Struggled not to boil over when another person I hardly know shows up to “help.” Struggled not to snap when Winnie baits me—because, oh yes, it’s very clear half the things she says are to get a reaction out of me. Struggled not to stare at the tattoos covering her toned arms. Struggled not to worry about her safety—which is a thing I don’t know why I’m worrying about at all.