Then it hit her. Maybe the D stood for Donovan. Wow.
He jammed his hands into his pockets, emphasizing the muscled set of his shoulders. “You don’t look happy to see me.”
“Surprised.” So surprised she had to lean against the fender for support. “What are you doing here?”
“Rafe Montgomery was going to do the job, but I sweet-talked him into trading.”
“Lucky me.” Ava’s mind swirled. Montgomery must be the M in the company. Rafe had been a nice man who’d been her contact. “But why are you here in workman’s clothes. Aren’t you like an investment broker or something?”
“That would be my dad. Rafe Montgomery and I got to talking one night while we were studying for our graduate school exams. What we were really dreading wasn’t taking the test, it was being cooped up in an office all day. Just like our dads. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind putting in a good hard day’s work, but I felt put in a box. It wasn’t for either of us. So we pooled our resources and went into business.”
That was the most unlikely story she’d ever heard. MBA dudes who built stuff? “I’d like to think you had woodworking training. A certificate of carpentry competence.”
“I’m good at what I do, believe me.”
Oh, she did believe him. And how was it possible that he looked even better dressed for work than he had the other day in a tux? Today he looked genuine, capable and very manly.
“Let me get a coat hanger.” He strode to the green pickup and opened the crew-cab door. A big golden retriever tumbled out and ping-ponged in place in front of Brice, tongue lolling. “Whoa there, boy.”
Okay, she melted. She couldn’t help it—she was a softy when it came to dogs. “What’s his name?”
Goofy brown eyes fastened on her. That big doggy mouth swung wide, showing dozens of sharp teeth. The huge canine launched toward her, tongue out and grinning, moving so fast he was a golden-brown blur.
“Rex, no! Come back here.” Brice reached for his collar to catch him.
Too late.
Ava didn’t have time to brace herself, because the dog was already leaping on her, plopping one front paw on either side of her neck, almost hugging her. His tongue swiped across her chin. Happy chocolate eyes studied hers with sheer joy.
“Brice, I’m in love with your dog.” She couldn’t help it. The big cuddly retriever hugged her harder before dropping down on all four paws. As if he knew how much he’d charmed her, he posed handsomely, staring up adoringly with those sweet eyes.
“Excuse him. He’s very friendly. Too friendly.” Brice grabbed his collar. “This may come as a shock to you but he failed every obedience class he’s been in. From puppy school all the way up to the academy.”
“Academy?”
“I hired professionals, but in the end, he won.” Brice turned his attention to the retriever, his face softening, his big hand stroking over the crown of the canine’s downy head. He received a few swipes of that lolling tongue and laughed. “Life’s hard enough, isn’t it? Without being told what to do every second of the day.”
Ava couldn’t believe it. The big, macho, most eligible bachelor was tough looking with all his masculine strength and charm, but she knew his secret. He was a big marshmallow underneath.
Not that she was interested. Really.
“This’ll only take a second, now that I have the routine down.” He took a wire hanger—she hadn’t even noticed when he’d fetched it from his truck—and unbent it enough to slide it between the frame of the door and the roof.
True to his word, a few seconds later he’d hit the lock and was pulling her key from the ignition and silencing the alarm. He hit the back door release for her.
Okay, he was really a decent guy. On the surface anyway, and that’s the only level on which she intended to know him. He was the D in D&M Construction, so that meant for better or worse, she was stuck with him. Not that she thought for a moment he actually did the hard work. No, he was probably more of a figurehead. He probably just oversaw projects. He was Roger Donovan’s son, right?
She lifted the back and slid out the bakery box, and Rex bounded up to sniff at it.
“Hey, buddy, these are not for you.” Ava might be charmed by the big cuddly dog, but she wasn’t that big of a pushover. “Sit.”
The retriever grinned up at her with every bit of charisma he possessed.
“Look at him drool. That can only mean one thing. There must be doughnuts in that box.” There was Brice, as large as life, wrapping one big, powerful hand around the canine’s blue nylon collar. “Need any help carrying those?”
“I suppose you like doughnuts, too.”
“Guilty.” His warm eyes and dazzling grin, those dimples and personality and his hard appearance made him look good down to the soul.
She had been fooled by this type of guy before, but not this time. “These are not for you. They are for your crew. For the men who actually work for a living instead of walking around owning companies.”
“Hey, I work hard.”
“I don’t see a hammer.” She reached for a second box, but he beat her to it. It was heavy with big thermos-type coffee canisters. “I see you eyeing the thermoses and no, you may not have any of that either. Not unless you’re a construction dude, and I don’t see a tool belt strapped to your waist.”
“That’s not fair. My tools are in my truck.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure they are.”
Brice shut the door and hit the remote. Rex bounced at his hip, the dog’s gaze glued to the pink bakery box. “You know I’m the on-site manager of this project, right?”
“I’ll have to see it to believe it.” She snapped ahead of him with that quick-paced walk of hers, her yellow sneakers squeaking with each step. “I still don’t get why you’re here. Why I’m plagued with you and that dog of yours.”
She eyed him like a judge awaiting a guilty verdict, but she didn’t fool him. Not one bit. He saw in her eyes and in the hint of her smile what she was trying to hide. He wasn’t the only one wondering.
Maybe he wasn’t the only one wishing.
“Where do you want these?” he asked of the stuff he was carrying.
She gestured to the worn wooden counter in front of them, where she’d set the bakery box and was lifting the lid.
He did as she asked and nearly went weak in the knees at the aroma wafting out from the open box. Sweet cake doughnuts, the comforting bite of chocolate, the richness of custard and the mouthwatering sweet huckleberries that glistened like fat blue jelly beans.
“Where did you get these?” The question wasn’t past his lips before he knew the answer. “You made these. You.”
“Okay, that’s so surprising? I’m a baker. Hel-lo.” She rolled her eyes at him, but it was cute, the way she shook her head as if she simply didn’t know about him. Yep, he knew what she was trying to do. Because whatever was happening between them felt a little scary, like standing on the edge of a crumbling precipice and knowing while the fall was certain, the how and what of the landing was not.
She pulled a bag of paper plates from her big shoulder bag, ripped it open and pulled out a plate. She