Don’t Poke the Luna Chapter 129

Xena’s POV

"I didn't say that," I announced, pulling my helmet off as we approached the construction site. The air was filled with the sound of drills, saws, and the scent of sawdust. In the distance, we could see the top of the building taking shape against the sky.

"Oh?" Ryder's response was casual, but I could tell he was waiting for me to elaborate.

We began walking up the slope towards the site. "I just meant that when we go on trips, we can take the motorcycle. Honestly, I wasn't giving much thought to what your mother said."

"Okay."

"What do you think we should do?" I asked, looking up at him.

"That's entirely up to you." Ryder wasn't budging. His words were like a wall, pushing all responsibility back to me.

"This is something we should decide together," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, hoping he would understand my desire for joint decision-making.

"No, it's not. Since I've known you, you've done things your way. If I said, we're doing it this way, you would immediately pull back. No, I know you. You need to do things your way, in your own time. That's why I was upset when my mom brought it up."

I stared at him in surprise, but he kept walking forward. I didn't respond, just silently followed behind him. What he said was true. Many times I thought I'd changed, but I hadn't at all. I fucking hate this.

We reached the metal fence surrounding their construction site. Ryder walked straight past the warning signs and approached a trailer where a generator was running. After knocking once on the door, he walked right in.

"Who in the fu— Mr. Nash. I didn't know you were coming today." The burly man inside had an angry expression that instantly transformed into respectful deference when he saw Ryder. He extended his hand to shake Ryder's first.

"Mr. Roderick, this is my wife, Xena." The word 'wife' made my heart skip a beat.

I could sense Mr. Roderick was human. "Hello," I said, extending my hand. He shook it, but seemed annoyed. His grip was uncomfortable, but I maintained my smile.

"I didn't know you were married," he said, looking directly at Ryder. His belly hung over his jeans, somehow held up by suspenders.

"You never asked. I'm here to check on progress. How are we coming along? I'd like a tour, thank you." Ryder's voice carried undeniable authority.

"Of course." Mr. Roderick grabbed his baseball cap and led us outside. I followed just a step behind, observing everything. "We've completed all the framing."

There were blueprints nearby. While Ryder and Mr. Roderick discussed the joints, I quietly slipped over to examine them. The community center was massive. According to the plans, there would be a central space the size of a football field that could be divided into two separate areas if needed. Each side was symmetrical in terms of bathrooms, open spaces, and overall layout. It wasn't until I looked at the loft and roof structure that I noticed something was wrong.

"Ryder?" I called out, still studying the blueprints.

Both men immediately stopped talking and turned to me. "What is it?" A flicker of confusion crossed Ryder's eyes, but his tone was filled with trust.

"I think we have a problem." I turned back to the blueprints and pulled out the roof design.

"What problem?" Ryder moved closer to me.

"The angles. They won't support the weight of the space."

"Impossible! We've calculated these numbers multiple times!" Mr. Roderick immediately became defensive. His reaction was expected; nobody likes having mistakes pointed out, especially in their area of expertise.

"I have no doubt you did the calculations. I'm just saying the proportion of space between each arch, plus the type of connecting joints you're using. Those thin connections on this type of wood won't handle any kind of pressure. Like snow or a room full of people. I can almost guarantee you'll see failures here and here." I pointed to two different locations that concerned me most. "Probably more." My voice grew increasingly firm.

"They're holding fine right now!" Mr. Roderick pointed at the building, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, because there's no drywall or thousands of people inside right now." My tone was becoming impatient. "You need to place additional support beams in those locations to keep it safe."

"Wh—" Mr. Roderick began. He narrowed his eyes at me, his hostility almost tangible.

Mr. Roderick's mumbling was clear enough for me to hear the insult. I saw Ryder's eyes darken instantly, the Alpha presence within him nearly erupting in an instant. But before he could say anything, I gently touched his arm—a silent signal that I could handle this.

"Sir, I heard that comment," I said, my voice firm and calm, but not aggressive. I looked Mr. Roderick directly in the eyes without backing down. "Rather than attacking me personally, why don't we focus on the actual engineering issue?"

I walked to the wall where safety helmets hung, took one, and put it on, then pointed toward the door. "Let me show you what I'm talking about."

Roderick glanced at Ryder, clearly expecting his boss to stop me. But Ryder just made a gesture indicating we should proceed, letting me lead the way.

I guided them through the site, stepping over gravel and wood chips, until we came to an area beneath one of the main arch structures. Workers paused their activities to watch us, and I could feel their curious gazes.

"Look here." I pointed to a connection point, then took out my phone. "You're using this standard connector, right?"

Roderick nodded reluctantly.

I opened my calculator app. "Based on your design specifications, how many pounds per square inch is this timber bearing?"

"87 pounds," he mumbled.

"Now, add the live load with full occupancy on the upper level, multiplied by the safety factor..." I quickly entered numbers into my phone. "And snow load..."

I turned the screen toward him, showing numbers far exceeding the connector's pressure standards.

"Your connection points will need to bear almost 1.7 times their design capacity," I said calmly. "I don't care who fixes it, but it needs to be fixed. I won't allow people's safety to be compromised."

Roderick's face went from red to white, then red again. He took my phone, checked my calculations, then repeated them on his own phone. His forehead began to sweat.

"I... I need to make a call." He stepped back and walked away.

I turned to Ryder, whose eyes sparkled with pride. "I saw some engineering books on your bookshelf. Didn't realize you had an interest."

"Anyone with a motorcycle shop needs to understand the basics of structural mechanics," I shrugged. "Besides, I've always been interested in buildings."

A few minutes later, Roderick returned, his expression completely transformed.

"Mrs. Nash..." He cleared his throat. "You're right. My engineer just confirmed your calculations. We'll add extra support structures immediately."

He paused, visibly struggling. "I apologize for my earlier comment. It was... unprofessional."

I nodded, accepting his apology but didn't smile. "Professional expertise isn't gender-specific, Mr. Roderick. I hope you'll remember that."

He nodded uncomfortably. "We'll start modifying the design right away."

Ryder took my hand, and we continued our tour. "Next time, don't assume it's you protecting me," I said softly, finally smiling. "Sometimes, I'm protecting your investment."

Ryder laughed, that genuine laugh only I could bring out. "I never doubted it."

They hadn't started electrical or plumbing work yet, so there wasn't much more to see. Each room appeared to match the blueprints and seemed properly assembled. There wasn't a gap between any of the joints. I carefully observed every detail, trying to ensure everything was proceeding according to plan.

We spent about an hour walking through the entire building and observing everything. As we were leaving, Ryder grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the forest.