The last thing Tom needed on his second day home was a damn hurricane. He needed no stress, not a bitch of a storm threatening his home and business. “Mr. D’s not going, is he?”
“He’s trying, but Patty will duct tape him to the floor before she’ll let that happen.”
“I’ll help her,” Sid said. “Lucas headed in then?”
“I think so.” The line went quiet and Sid feared Beth knew about her non-date turned pseudo-date with Lucas. “Sid, I’m scared. I’ve never been through a hurricane before.”
Remembering her first experience the year after moving to the island, Sid understood Beth’s fear. But she’d dealt with Mother Nature often enough since then to know they were in no severe danger from a category two storm.
“No worries, Curly. These things are a nonevent around here.” Not exactly true, but Beth didn’t need the truth in that moment. “I’ll pack up my tools and be at the restaurant in thirty minutes.”
“But what about your place? You’re right on the water. Won’t that be worse?”
Her pier faced more danger than her house, but Sid knew how to prepare. “We’ve got more than twelve hours. Plenty of time to board up the place once Dempsey’s is secure.”
Forty minutes later, Sid pulled up before the restaurant and hauled her drill and tool belt out with her. The extra ten minutes had been spent debating what to wear so as not to look too butch in front of Lucas. While checking her ass in the mirror, realization dawned. She was not one of those chicks, and to hell if Lucas would turn her into one.
The scene on the porch was chaos. Boards were being brought from the back storage room, but no one seemed to know where to put them. Lucas was nowhere to be found.
“What are you guys doing, trying to recreate some Stooges skit?” Four men froze in place, staring wide eyed in her direction. How the hell men ever managed to rule the world, Sid did not know. “Put the boards down where you are.”
Two large sheets of plywood hit the decking with no hesitation. “Vinnie and Chip,” she barked, “put your board against the railing here.” Sid pointed to her right and the men followed the order. “Now you two,” she said to Mitch and Lot. “Slide yours in place in front of it.”
As soon as the boards were stacked, Lucas came around the corner with his head down and a plastic container in his hands. “I can’t believe these things are still in the same box.” Looking up, he spotted Sid standing on the top step.
Her heart did some crazy flutter thing so she worked harder to school her features.
“What are you doing here?”
“I work here.” If he made a crack about men and tools and women and kitchens, she’d deck him. Date or no date.
His eyes dropped to the drill in her hand. “Good. You have tools.” He handed her the box. “See if you’ve got a bit that will work for these.” The flutter turned into a full-on somersault. Turning to the silent crew, he said, “There are six more sheets of plywood inside. We’ll bring them all out and stack them, then start putting them up.”
It took the guys five minutes to carry out the rest of the boards. During that time Sid found two bits that would work on the two-inch screws. Passing one off to Lucas, she asked, “You know how to use a drill?”
Lucas pursed his lips. “How would you feel if I asked you that question?”
Point taken. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Sid didn’t apologize often so the word didn’t come naturally. “I suggest we work in teams.” Glancing toward the guys dropping the last sheet on the stack, she said, “I’ll take Vinnie and Chip. You can have Mitch and Lot.”
“Why do I get Mitch and Lot?”
“Because if I take Lot, we’re going to be a man down after I drill a two-inch screw through his forehead.”
“Good point.” Lucas nodded. Turning to the crew, he said, “Mitch and Lot, you’re with me. We’ll start at the left down here. Vinnie and Chip, you go with Sid around to the other end. We’ll meet in the middle and have this done in no time.”
The words were clearly an order, but delivered in a way that sounded more like a suggestion. Interesting technique. None of the men questioned the plan, each following their respective leader. Sid hadn’t expected resistance, except maybe from Lucas. But he’d treated her as an equal.
There went that fluttery thing again.
Thanks to the wind, the job took a good thirty minutes. Every time they lifted a board off the floor, it threatened to blow out of their grip. Vinnie bitched about his delicate hands getting blisters, as only one side of the plywood was treated, but Chip kept his mouth shut and picked up the slack.
Once all was secure, the guys headed out to help other friends and board up their own homes. Sid turned to Lucas. “We might as well head over to your place. Beth said the fire crew was going to do your parents’ house, but we can get a head start on the bottom and let them use the ladders to do the second floor.”
“Works for me.” He picked up the drill and tool belt from where he’d dropped them by the steps. The combination of khakis, polo shirt, and a tool belt hit harder than expected.
The man was sex on a stick. And he was staring at her as she went loopy picturing him in nothing but the tool belt.
“You okay?” he asked. “You look like you’re going to pass out or something.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “So I’ll see you over there?”
“Right behind you, boss.”
Sid drove away from Dempsey’s grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care. Curly was right. Being nice worked. Not that she’d ever tell Curly that.
By six o’clock that evening, Lucas was tired, soaked, sore, and starving. They’d boarded up his parents’ house, Joe’s place, and then helped with the fitness center, which had the window wall from hell. The plywood sheets required four guys just to hold them and even then the damn things nearly broke their wrists when the wind caught them.
“I may never be able to lift my arms again.” On his back on a weight bench, Lucas turned his head to the left. “What are the chances you’d lift my beer so I can get a drink?”
Sid snorted. “No chance at all.”
And she’d been so nice all afternoon. He should have known it couldn’t last. “You’re not going to carry me home on this bench either, are you? I’ll have to sleep here then. It’s not like anyone will be going out in a hurricane to bench-press dumbbells.”
“There’s no kitchen here and once the power goes out you’ll be screwed. Go home, Dempsey.” Sid rolled off the balance ball she’d been using as a chair and tossed her empty beer bottle in the trash. “I’ve got to go put the boards up at my place.”
“What?” he said, sitting up faster than his body liked. A pain shot through his ribs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Sid shrugged. “We were busy doing all these other places.”
Lucas pushed off the bench, taking two tries to reach his feet. “I’m coming with you.”
“Are you kidding?” Sid poked him with one finger and he swayed. “You’re spent, dude. I can handle it.”
“There’s no way I’m letting you do that alone. Not when you’re right on the water and by now the winds have to be pushing sixty out there.” Damn stubborn woman. “Let’s go before we lose what light is left.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me,” he yelled over his shoulder, pulling his keys from his pocket as he stomped to the door. What was wrong with her? Did she have no sense of self-preservation? She’d spent all day helping everyone else, and never asked for a hand in return. Well, she was getting one.