Clear as Glass

braced both hands on his thighs and blew out a sigh that misted in the cold October air.
Jaye didn’t dare look at the fly of his jeans. “Are you…hurt?”
“Yeah. Being mistaken for a sex-crazed murderer stings like hell.” His gaze flicked to her car. “I’m gonna change your tire. Probably should’ve mentioned that before I came toward you.”
Accepting his help didn’t feel right after nailing him in the nuts. “If you could remove the flat, I’ll put on the spare.”
“No way. I’ll take care of everything.” He picked up an item beside his foot. “Your flashlight is about to die. Use mine.”
She gripped the metal tube and offered an apologetic smile. “I thought you were carrying a gun.”
“No wonder you slugged me.” He cleared his throat and met her gaze. “Defending yourself was the right thing to do. You had no idea if I was up to no good, and you bought time to run away.”
The unexpected praise sent a curl of warmth into her chest. Grateful he wasn’t holding a grudge, she pointed his flashlight’s bright beam toward her flat tire. Her gaze crept over her car’s hood to the trees crowding the road. “A few minutes ago, I heard something in the forest. What lives in these woods?”
The man knelt by her flat. “You probably heard a possum or a whistle pig.”
She jerked her gaze toward him. “What the heck is a whistle pig?”
“A groundhog.” He gripped the wrench with hands the size of dinner plates and loosened the remaining lug nut with an efficient yank.
“Whatever I saw was bigger than a groundhog. More like a bear.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’ll fall to his knees if you hit him with your flashlight.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Aim for the same spot you got me.”
She burst out laughing and covered her mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“Forget it.” He gave her an all-is-forgiven grin.
Her angel-trapped-in-two-hundred-pounds-of-muscle was a handsome man. Handsome enough to distract her from any bear shuffling through the woods. Yogi Bear. Smokey Bear. A grizzly bear. Didn’t matter. She couldn’t look away from the man kneeling a few feet away. “Thank you for stopping to help. I was beginning to think no one lived out here.”
“Plenty of people out here, but everyone is watching the game. I would be, too, but I have to meet some guy my father hired.” With a few industrious pumps of the jack, he raised the front end of her car. “Every year, he brings in some outsider to screw up our business.”
Foreboding skittered down her bare neck, sticking cold fingers under the collar of her blazer. “An outsider?”
“Yeah. A consultant who doesn’t know the first thing about our glassblowing factory.” He carried her flat to the open trunk. “Now I’ve got to come up with a good reason to fire some jerk I’ve never met.”
Her insides kinked. A few minutes ago, she hit him in the nuts and called him a murderous sex maniac. Now, he had very good reason to fire her. “You must be Mitch Blake.” She angled the flashlight at her chest. The bright light beamed off the ruffled white blouse peeking from the lapels of her blazer. “Your father hired me.”
Mitch’s gaze dropped to her skirt. “I’m supposed to meet someone named Jayson Davis.”
“I’m Jayson, but I’d rather you call me Jaye. Sorry about the confusion. If it’s any consolation, this isn’t the first time someone didn’t expect me. My father was convinced I’d be a boy. He liked the name Jayson too much to change it.” The confession eroded her confidence. Would Mitch be another man she’d never please?
The muscles along his jaw tightened, hard as the cold pavement. “Does my father know you’re a woman?”
“I have no idea. We made arrangements via email. He never asked.” Mitchell Blake was acting like a sexist oaf who thought women didn’t belong in a factory. Jaye gripped the flashlight, tempted to whack him in the nuts again. “Your father said he’d provide a place for me to live during our four-week contract. Could you point me to the hotel?”
“You’re not staying at a hotel.” Mitch’s terse words bounced off the road. “You’re living with me.”

Chapter Two
The loud clack of Jaye’s high heels against the kitchen floor punctuated the fact she didn’t belong in Mitchell Blake’s house. Determined to find an alternative, she swiped her thumb across the screen of her cell phone to activate her browser. “I’ll get a room at a hotel.”
“Don’t bother. Every place around here is booked.” Mitch shut the back door with a firm push. “There are no vacancies.”
“I don’t understand.” Jaye lowered her phone. “There’s nothing but woods up here. Have squirrels reserved every hotel room?”
“Not unless they’re hunting deer. This time of year, we’re swamped with hunters.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Let me get this straight. My father found you on the Internet, contacted you about doing some work for the factory, and hired you sight unseen?”
Apparently, their friendly banter about whistle pigs hadn’t eased Mitch’s reluctance to hire an outsider. So much for the warm welcome she’d hoped for. Now she didn’t feel guilty about clocking him in the nuts. “Your father didn’t hire me sight unseen. He saw my portfolio. Nick knows what he’s getting.”
Mitch’s shoulders shifted, angling toward her. “Are you a glass blower?”
“No. I specialize in virtual marketing. I’ll hone your factory’s brand, set up a presence on the web, and build a virtual store to sell your hand-blown drinking glasses.” She resisted the urge to tell him she majored in programming and marketing in college. Graduating summa cum laude hadn’t compelled her own father to hire her, so why would her accomplishments impress Mitch?
“An online store won’t work. People need to hold our products to see the clarity and quality of our glass.” He braced one arm against the back of a kitchen chair and shook his head. “Rather than pour our resources into virtual marketing, we need to offer new products to increase