“I’m pretty sure implying being a lesbian is a ‘fault’ would not score you points with a lot of people.”

I felt so backed into a corner. I didn’t know what to say. I knew all the things my grandparents had told me and all the things I was taught at the Christian academy. “You know what I mean,” I said softly.

After a few seconds of eyeing me until I felt two inches tall, he nodded. “I do. I know what you mean. But not everyone would.”

“You’re gay,” I said as it hit me. Everything so clear. Of course my mom wasn’t with him. He was gay. That explained his reaction to what I said.

Without a shred of offense, he shook his head. “No. I’m not gay.”

I frowned. “It’s wrong.” Rubbing my lips together, I shrugged. “I was taught that it’s wrong.”

He stared at the last bite of his toast for a few moments before popping it into his mouth and lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. “Well, good thing you’re out of that place they called a school. Now you can fucking think for yourself.”

Cringing at his use of the F-word, I felt insecure and completely exposed. I had no idea Fisher Mann would teach me so much during our time alone.

Chapter Six

“What?” I looked down at my jeans, gray tee, and white tennis shoes as Fisher leaned against the back of his truck with one foot propped up behind him on the bumper, eyes taking way too much liberty with inspecting me.

“Approximately seventy percent of my young male crew will try to get into your pants. I’ll do my best to keep them from humping your legs and licking your face, but I just want you to remember that they went to public school and lost their virginity before they could legally drive a car.”

I hugged my arms to my waist. “And that makes it okay to act like animals?”

“No.” He laughed, pushing off the truck. “They’re not animals. Just guys being assholes because they haven’t had a good woman to keep their dicks in check. Give them a day or two to get used to you before you go filing any sexual harassment complaints because they looked at you the wrong way or whistled a little too loudly. They’re good workers. I need them more than I need you.”

I should have been offended that he was suggesting I turn a forty-eight-hour blind eye to his crew’s bad behavior—but I wasn’t because I was too preoccupied with how he didn’t need me. “If I’m nothing more than a burden, I don’t have to work for you. I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would love to have me.”

Fisher’s crew? Ha!