Forged of Steele Bundle (Books 1-4) - Brenda Jackson [139]
Jocelyn nervously chewed the insides of her cheeks. Could it be possible that Bas had enough clout with Arnett to rectify a major screw-up? She couldn’t help remembering the last house they’d done for Marcella Jones and how she claimed the kitchen fixtures hadn’t been the ones she’d ordered. She’d pitched such a fit that Jim had taken the six-hour drive to Birmingham and back to pick up the ones Marcella claimed she was supposed to have. Jocelyn didn’t relish the thought of having to tell her about the tile.
“Mark Arnett, please.”
Bas’s words intruded into her thoughts and she wondered how he’d gotten past the auto prompts. She wondered too if he’d gotten any more sleep last night than she had. He didn’t seem tired and grouchy this morning. Evidently he hadn’t had a restless night remembering how they had indulged in such a mind-blowing kiss. Maybe it had been mind-blowing just to her. Maybe for him it was just so-so.
“Mark? How are you? This is Sebastian Steele. Yes, I’m fine.” Then cutting to the chase he said, “Look, I need your help and I want you to put it to the top of your list.” He nodded. “Good. There’s been a mix-up with a supplier of one of our subsidiary companies and I need it straightened out. I need a particular style of marble tile sent to me right away.” There was a pause. “How soon? Overnight if you can.” Another pause. “Here’s the style number,” he said and began reading the information off the invoice.
“Think you can handle that?” he asked without missing a beat. “Great. Here’s the address I want it sent to.”
Five minutes later Bas was hanging up the phone, smiling. “Any other fires you want me to put out?”
Not unless he wanted to drop a gallon of water on her head, Jocelyn thought as intense heat ran through every part of her body. While he’d been on the phone with Mark Arnett, trying to save her company from Marcella Jones’s wrath, she’d been studying him like a teenager in lust. Every time he moved his body, she got the full effect of seeing him in his tight-fitting jeans and saw how they contoured to his muscular thighs. And if that wasn’t bad enough, that Pittsburgh Steelers T-shirt was clearly emphasizing muscular arms, a firm flat chest and nice wide shoulders. Display Bas on a poster and she would buy whatever he was advertising.
“Jocelyn?”
Snatched out of her reverie, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “No, there aren’t any more fires you need to put out. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He glanced around. “Where’s Reese?”
“Doing a pickup.”
He blew out a breath and frowned. “When do you expect him back?”
She lifted a brow. “Not sure. Is anything wrong?”
“No, just have him call the office when he returns.”
For some reason Jocelyn felt he wasn’t telling her everything. Why did he want to talk to Reese? He was just the foreman. She was the one in charge of things. Maybe she needed to remind him of that.
“Look,” she said, leaning closer and looking intently at him.
“Yes?” he said, and she felt the force of his own gaze back.
“You do remember who’s in charge, don’t you?”
He smiled. “Yeah, I think so, but do you want to remind me again?”
She frowned, and suddenly wanted to find the hammer and clobber him. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“You shouldn’t have to try so hard. It should come naturally,” he said and reached out and tweaked her nose. “I’ll see you later.”
She was ready to throw out an angry retort when she saw that Harry had reappeared and the two of them were talking with obvious familiarity. Evidently they remembered each other from that summer Bas had worked with her father. Jocelyn decided what she had to say to Bas could wait. There was no need to put him in his place in front of Harry. She would have enough time to read him later.
She was pulled away from those thoughts when her cell phone rang. “Yes?”
“Is Reese there?”
She recognized Leah’s voice immediately. “No. Why?”
“Because