Jason hooted with laughter, then went back to hammering. Caleb had originally wondered how she handled herself with a bunch of testosterone-fueled, rough men, and now he had his answer. She walked the perfect balance of businesslike command and biting humor. She also had thick skin and no trouble giving a tongue blistering if she felt like anyone was out of line. Basically, Morgan Raines gave as good as she got.

He wondered if she took that same kind of attitude in bed.

Aggravated with his thoughts, he chugged some water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Need anything from me today, or can I get back to work?”

Those wide eyes chilled to Arctic blue. “We’re supposed to be done with framing. We’re behind.”

“It will be finished.”

“I need to confirm inspection.”

“Already done.”

Frustration clung to her aura. Caleb hid a smile. He found giving her the answers she wanted with no backup explanation drove her nuts. She liked to know who had scheduled it and when but was too annoyed now to ask. Her clipboard was so much a part of her, he wondered if she took it to bed at night. “You’re missing five guys. I cleared Rich’s schedule so those pipes can be run and we can get the HVAC system going.”

He bit back a groan. “You called Rich again? For God’s sake, leave the man alone. He knows what he needs to do.”

She gave a haughty sniff. “Rich overbooks clients, and you know it. I refuse to let him try to sneak in a smaller job and throw us off. Oh, I need you to meet me at Blossom and Company tonight.”

He held up a hand and shook his head. “Hell no. Take Tristan.”

“I can’t. He’s in New York dealing with textiles, remember? You’re the closest I got.”

“It’s not my job to look at lighting and pick out froufrou chandeliers. Take Dalton.”

“He’s busy; I already checked. Stop complaining. If I do it now, we won’t have to deal with it later when things are even more complicated. You’re coming.” She hesitated, and he watched the flickering emotions in her blue eyes. Almost like she wasn’t sure if she should utter her next words. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

He paused. The thought of having more alone time with her was intriguing. And pathetic. “You’re paying?”

She let out a husky laugh, and his heart did a weird tumble. This was like opening the cage a few inches, tempting the beast to escape. He searched her face for any indication that her invitation meant something bigger, but he couldn’t gauge her calm expression. Not that he’d take her up on the offer. “Yeah, I’m paying. Consider it your fee for the torture.”

“Fine.” Two trucks pulled in and kicked up a burst of gravel. “Here they are.”

She turned, and they watched as five giant guys made their way toward them. “About time you ladies rolled out of bed,” Caleb barked. “What the hell happened last . . .” He trailed off. Damn, they must’ve been drinking shots of one hundred proof. They walked with slow, tentative steps, sunglasses shielding their eyes and a green tinge staining their skin. Tiny, pitiful groans escaped their lips, as if each step was pure pain.

“You look awful,” Caleb said.

Sam stopped in front of him. His throat worked as if trying to speak. His voice was a threadbare sound. “We’re real sick, boss. All of us.”

His team swayed on their feet. “I think we ate a batch of bad oysters,” Mike said. “We all ordered them last night.”

Caleb cursed, then looked at Morgan. He wasn’t a monster, but damned if he wouldn’t be screwed by a loss of a whole day’s work. “It’s okay, Cal,” Morgan said. She addressed his men. “If y’all don’t feel well, please go home and rest up. We’ll work something out.”

Knowing it cost her a lot to say that, he turned to his team. “What’d you wash them down with?” he asked.

Yep. They all shared a guilty look. “Some tequila,” Frank finally said.

Caleb gave them a hard look.

Sam spoke up. “Come on, guys, we can do this. Sorry, boss.”

They slowly trudged in, each of them taking various spots and beginning to work. With every bang of the hammer, it looked as if they wanted to shriek in horror. Caleb shook his head. “That never happens on my watch. They must’ve been celebrating something.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen it happen,” she said. Her eyes glinted with amusement. “I’ve celebrated with them, and they usually recover fine. You have a good team.”

Pride rushed in. “Thanks. They’ve been with me a long time, and other than an occasional screwup, they’re solid guys. Talented. And in this business, a lot more dependable than other teams I’ve been with.”

The words were floating like a cartoon bubble out of his lips when it happened.

Above the screech of guitars and hammers, a familiar retching noise cut through the air. Tools clattered to the floor, and groans of disgust peppered his ears.

Oh. No.

Frank vomited all over the floor. Clutching his stomach, he rolled himself back and forth in an effort to stop, but it only made it worse. Seconds later, Sam followed, his retching sounding like a baby monster who’d eaten an animal that disagreed with him. Jason hurried down the ladder, backing up from the two men with his hands in front.

“Ah, stop it! I’m a sympathetic vomiter!” Jason shouted.

Morgan took a step back, and Caleb watched in horror as the short story from Stand by Me, one of his favorite King tales, came to life—the disgusting scene about a pie-eating contest gone horribly wrong.

“Help!” Jason bent over and let loose. Then it was game on.

Mike turned the color of avocado and puked from the top of the ladder, and the last two guys surrendered. The sound of retching and groaning and male misery rose to a crescendo, and all Caleb could do was watch the nightmare unfold.

Finally a terrible silence descended.

The song ended and the boom box clicked off.

Caleb turned from the horrific scene and sighed. “All of you. Get the hell out of here.”

One by one, the men left, heads hung in misery. He stood for a while, thinking about the long, terrible day stretching ahead. Then she spoke.

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me. Let’s get to work.”

Morgan quickly switched gears and walked back to her car. Popping the trunk, she took out her hard hat and work boots, setting her mind to the task at hand. Sure, they’d still be a bit delayed, but if they worked all day with few breaks, they might be able to make up some time. She donned her boots and hat and stood.