“Earth to Chris.”

“Uh, I was just wondering about your shirt. You do construction work?”

“Yeah.”

Not a laborer, she decided. He didn’t seem the sort to take orders. A project manager or a supervisor, maybe. Certainly someone who worked in the field. He didn’t get all those muscles sitting behind a desk. “Should I take you to work?”

He looked at the cast. “I think I’ll pass on work today.”

“Won’t someone be upset if you don’t show up?”

“Relieved would probably be a better word.”

The truck idled at a standstill in the parking lot. “That’s a strange thing to say. Are you insecure?” she joked.

He shook his head. “No. I’m ruthless.”

An inadvertent shiver ran down her spine at the bitter tone in his voice.

“And I’m disreputable,” he teased, trying to lighten the conversation.

“It’s the stubble.”

He rubbed his hand across his whiskered chin. “Twenty-eight of my last forty-eight hours have been spent on a plane. And only three of the remaining twenty hours were spent sleeping. I was afraid to take a razor to my face at four-thirty this morning.”

“Where did you fly in from?”

“Everywhere.”

She felt him slump in the seat next to her. He passed a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ve been to three countries and seven cities in the last forty-eight hours. Six job sites. This would have been number seven. Maybe I’m glad you broke my arm. I think I’m running on empty.”

“Are you some sort of troubleshooter?”

“Troubleshooter? I guess that’s as good a name as any, but lately I feel more like a troublemaker.” He quirked a smile at her. “I’d like to make a pass at you, but all of a sudden, I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

“I don’t think I have a home.” It was a flat statement issued in a voice totally devoid of emotion. “There’s this place out in Loudoun County where I stay sometimes.”