She looks away for a second and her cheeks pinken.
“I should explain. Sometimes when we go to a call, some women try to get a little something extra out of us.”
Her forehead creases. “Like they want you to do a job for free?”
I blow out a breath. “Like they want us to do them for free.”
Her mouth drops open and she looks at me with wide eyes. “They come on to you?”
“Sometimes.” I shrug. “I’m not saying that to sound like an egotistical prick or anything, but earlier in the day I had a woman in her fifties invite me inside to cool off. She was wearing a blue silk nightie with no bra.”
Her hand whips up to cover her mouth. “No way!”
I nod. “So when I thought the same thing was happening a second time that day and I got pulled away from my Friday night plans… let’s just say I wasn’t in the best frame of mind when I showed up here.”
“You thought I was hitting on you?” she asks in disbelief.
I shrug, a little embarrassed for jumping to conclusions.
“I mean, I guess it makes sense if that happens to you sometimes. Look at you.” She motions toward me with her hand.
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying you find me attractive?” I have the sudden urge to puff out my chest.
She rolls her eyes. “Someone would have to be blind not to find you attractive. But regardless, I wasn’t hitting on you.”
“Yeah, I realize that now. Don’t tell your boyfriend I assumed that.”
Real smooth slipping that in, Romeo.
“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend.” She gives me a look I interpret as “are you kidding me?”
“How is that even possible? Do you spend any time around heterosexual males?”
“Are you saying you find me attractive?” She’s being playful, and I don’t really think she’s expecting an answer.
I shouldn’t give her one. I know that. She’s my client. But nothing with her has gone as things usually do with my clients. “Extremely attractive.”
Our gazes hold for a moment.
I force myself to break away, looking behind me in the direction of the hallway that leads to the bathroom. “I guess I’ll get started measuring everything.”
“Right. Okay. I’m going to have a shower in the backyard. Thank god it’s private.” She chuckles nervously.
I nod and head to the bathroom.
A few minutes pass before Camila joins me, wrapped in a fluffy white robe. “I just need to grab my shampoo and stuff.”
“Oh, of course.” I step aside and let her pass. She pulls everything out, her arms overloaded with girly products. “Do you want some help with that?”
“Nope, I’m good.” She practically scurries from the bathroom as fast as she can.
I go back to measuring the shower, vanity, and bathroom floor, trying not to wonder about the body she’s hiding under that robe. But I don’t have to wonder long, because after I’m done and go in search of her, she’s in her outdoor shower, wearing a skimpy red bikini, with her head tilted back under the water and looking like every man’s wet dream.
Five
Camila
The sound of a throat clearing makes me whip around.
Lucas stands in the doorway, looking as if he’s about to choke on his tongue. I’d be lying if I said his reaction didn’t feel like a balm due to my wounded pride after my breakup.
The truth is, I liked him better last night when he was an asshole. He was easy to resist since I’ve sworn off assholes.
But the man who apologized to me this morning was not that guy. His apology made him an überhot, gainfully employed man who knows how the five-letter word sorry. Now he’s staring at me as though I’m the second peanut butter cup and his willpower is waning. He’s basically become catnip and I’m the feline who can’t wait to sink my claws into him. Which would be okay if I wasn’t afraid of falling head over heels for someone who will break my heart.
“Sorry, I thought you’d be done by now. I’m all finished if you want to talk about your budget.”
“Just give me a couple minutes and I’ll meet you inside.”
He stiffly nods and walks back inside the house. I hate how I notice the way his black T-shirt stretches across his shoulders and muscles in his back.
I quickly finish rinsing the conditioner from my hair, towel off, and put my robe back on before returning inside. Lucas is waiting in the foyer, fidgeting with his toolbox.
“Come have a seat at the breakfast bar,” I say.
He follows me without a word and sits beside me. Because my robe is wrapped around me, the bottom falls open, exposing my thigh. He glances down then quickly looks away and slides his notepad between us. In an effort to try not to make this any more awkward, I don’t bother to adjust the robe, knowing it will just fall open again.
“Based on the size of the bathroom, I think you’ll end up somewhere in this budget once it’s all said and done.” He circles a figure on the page. It’s about what I figured when I mentally tallied it all in my head this morning. “Of course, that depends on what kind of finishes you decide on.”
“Does that include your labor?”
He nods. “Regardless of finishes, I have a pretty good idea of the time involved. That’s assuming, of course, we don’t run into any surprises.”
“Right, okay. Well, that’s kind of what I thought it’d be. When can you get started?” I turn my head to look at him and realize for the first time how close we are. I clear my throat and lean back to give us both some personal space.
“I, uh… I can get started right away.” He pushes his hand through his hair. “I’ll call and get a dumpster for the driveway delivered on Monday so I can rip everything out, but you’ll need to choose your finishes sooner than later so we can get them ordered.”
I perk up. “Oh, the fun part.”
“Let me know when you want to go and I’ll bring the measurements so we order enough.”
I hop off the breakfast stool. I don’t have a packed schedule today and I need this guy out of my life sooner than later to make sure I don’t jump him. “No time like the present. Just let me get changed really quick.”
His head draws back in surprise.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t assume you don’t have plans today. It is the weekend after all.” Lucas probably has some hot little number waiting for him in his bed.
“Nah, I was just going to finish off some financials for the company. It can wait.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like a fun Saturday.” I may not be a wild and crazy person, but you’d be hard-pressed to find me working on a Saturday afternoon at the beginning of summer.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m available.” He raises one eyebrow.
“Touché.” I head toward the back of the house. “Just give me a few minutes. I won’t be long.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he calls after me.
I return less than five minutes later, dressed in a pair of loose khaki shorts and a black tank top. I dried my hair quickly and didn’t bother with makeup since I don’t love how it feels on my face. I wear it throughout the week for work but usually abstain on the weekends unless I’m going out for the night.
“All set?” Lucas asks.
“Yep. Told you I’d be quick.” I grab my purse off the breakfast bar.
“I’m impressed.”
I preen under his praise, slipping on a pair of leather flip-flop sandals and opening the front door. After I’ve locked up, I follow Lucas down the path to the driveway.
“Since I’m parked behind you, I figured I’d drive. No point in taking two vehicles,” he says.
I nod as if it’s no big deal, but in truth, I hadn’t anticipated that. Lucas doesn’t make me uncomfortable per se, but I am uncomfortable around him. Mostly because he’s a superhot guy and I’ve never been good at either small talk or acting natural around someone I find attractive. It doesn’t even matter that I have no interest in st
arting something with the man. I still find myself hyperaware of every little thing I say and do.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I say.
At least he drives a big pickup truck and not some mini where our arms would probably be touching. A shiver races up my spine at the thought.
I head over to the passenger side and have to use the bar inside the door to hoist myself up. Once I have my seat belt on, Lucas starts the truck and turns, resting his right arm along the back of my seat as he looks over his shoulder and reverses down my driveway.
Jeez, of course he does my favorite sexy move.
I shift in my seat and wave to my next-door neighbor pulling weeds in his front lawn.
I’ve never dated a guy who drove a pickup truck. Elijah drove a small European sedan, like me. And I wouldn’t have thought I’d like the fact Lucas drives a truck, but it’s got its own vibe. A manly one I appreciate. Not that this is a date.
The inside of the truck smells like the cedar air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, and I inspect the cab, surprised to find it so clean.
“This isn’t my work truck,” Lucas says as though he’s reading my thoughts.
“Oh, yeah, I was wondering how you kept it so clean.”
He chuckles and turns onto the main road. Mount Rainier comes into view in the distance. Even though I’ve lived in this region my entire life, the sight still manages to steal my breath every time.
“Where are we headed?” I ask.
“Figured we’d head to Home Depot first. See what they have since they have a big selection.”
I nod in agreement and shift to look out my window. We fall into what—for me at least—is an uncomfortable silence. Ugh. I hate being in situations like this. I never know what to say, and whatever I do decide on usually makes me feel like an idiot once the words leave my mouth.
“Does your girlfriend mind you having to work on the weekend?”
See? That’s what I went with?
He glances at me, unsuccessfully hiding a grin. “No girlfriend.”
“Oh.” That’s surprising. Though I guess if I looked like he did, I’d probably play the field too.
“You sound surprised.”
I shrug, not gathering enough courage to look at him. “A little. You’re attractive, you’re employed, you don’t seem like the type into any weird fetishes or anything. Appearances suggest you’d have someone in your life. Then again, maybe you have several someones.”
Bitterness laces my tone. Damn Elijah and his face flashing through my head as the last sentence leaves my mouth.
Luckily, Lucas just parks the truck in the parking lot.
I open the door with one hand, grab my purse with the other, and hop down onto the pavement. “Let’s do this.”
Six
Lucas
We’re at our third store, staring at similar tiles we saw at the first two stores, yet Camila examines them as though it’s her first time seeing the design.
“Do you like this one better than the first one we looked at?” She turns and holds the tile up to me.
I shrug. “It looks exactly the same.”
Her head rears back as though she’s shocked by my words. “They’re totally different.” She reaches into her crossbody purse for her phone and pulls up the picture she took of the tile from Home Depot. “See? The veining in this one is much thinner than the one here.”
I press my lips together and nod. I still don’t see a difference, but I don’t have to live there.
“So what do you think will look better with the white subway tile we picked for the shower?” she asks.
At least we’ve managed to get that far. She seemed to know what she wanted for the shower, though she has yet to decide how she wants it laid—horizontal, vertical, subway pattern, herringbone… the possibilities are endless, according to her.
“I think any of them will work.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to look at the other options on the display. “Let me take a picture of this one. If I decide some time tomorrow, will that give you enough time to order them and still get started next week?”
“Yeah, I have to rip everything out and figure out where the water’s coming from. Tomorrow should be fine.”
“Great. Should we go look at vanities and counters now?” She turns to me with a big smile, and though I want to tell her that this has already taken up too much of my time, she looks so excited to go obsess over every detail of her new bathroom.
“Sure.” I motion for her to lead the way.
Two hours later, I pull into Camila’s driveway to drop her off. Although shopping took longer than I expected and I still have the business bookkeeping waiting for me, I’m not eager to say goodbye. Something about this woman intrigues me.
If she weren’t a customer, I’d probably ask her out. But she won’t be my customer forever, so maybe once I’m done renovating her bathroom, I can broach the subject casually.
“Thanks so much for your help. I promise I’ll get back to you with my decision on the tiles tomorrow.”
“Sure thing.”
We stare at each other silently for a beat, and the truck cab feels as if it’s slowly getting smaller and smaller. The sound of a cell phone ringing startles us, and we break eye contact.
Camila scrambles to find her phone in her purse, looks quickly at the screen, and smiles before she answers it. “Hey, can I call you back in a minute?” She pauses to listen for a second. “For sure, I just got home. Come on over.” Another pause. “See you soon. Love ya.” She shoves the phone back in her purse. “Sorry.”
“No problem. Hot date?” I can’t help but ask. I don’t know why. Maybe her potential new boyfriend will kill the attraction and I can get this job done without a chub the entire time.
“What?” She chuckles almost as though she’s embarrassed. “Oh no, that’s my best friend.”
I’ll just face-palm now. I’m probably transparent as fuck. “Well… anyway… I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Let me know about the tiles.”
“Will do. Thanks again, Lucas.”
I refrain from closing my eyes at the sound of my name leaving her lips because it’s hard not to picture her saying it while she’s naked and writhing underneath me.
“No problem. Have a good night.” I give her some lame salute with two fingers from my forehead. Jesus. What is it about this woman that throws me completely off-kilter?
I decide to swing by Gram and Gramps’s house before heading home. I haven’t seen them since last weekend, and I try to swing by at least once a week to make sure they’re well. I know my parents do the same, and probably my brothers do too.
I pull up to the house and see Gram on her hands and knees on her front lawn, pulling up weeds. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her to call one of us to help her with this shit—she doesn’t.
I park and hop out of the cab of my truck. “What are you doing, Gram?”
It takes some effort, but she straightens up and looks at me over her shoulder. “Hi, sweetie. You’re just in time. I just took a loaf of banana nut bread out of the oven. It’s probably cooled by now.” She smiles and tries to get up off the grass.
I rush over to help her stand. “Why are you weeding the lawn? That can’t be easy at your age, and I’ve told you we’re all happy to help.”
She shoos me away once she’s upright. “Nonsense. I’m old, not dead. Now come in the house.”
I follow her into the modest bungalow my grandparents have lived in my whole life. A feeling of intense nostalgia mixed with comfort wraps around me every time I walk into this house. Not to mention the scent of my gram’s famous banana nut bread that’s now oozing out of the kitchen.
I breathe in deeply. My stomach rumbles and I realize that I skipped lunch while out with Camila. The thought of her brings to mind the way she looked in her red bikini with water running down her olive skin, which brings to mind more thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking in Gram’s presence.
“He just ran out to the hardware store. We’ve got a leaky gutter on the south side of the house. Had to get something to fix it.” She places a slice on a small plate and holds it out to me.
“I’ll be fixing that when he gets back. I don’t want him up on a ladder.”
She gives me a look of censure then shrugs. “Probably for the best.”
Five years ago, my gramps fell off a ladder when he was changing a light bulb. Thankfully he didn’t break anything, but he was black and blue for weeks.
Gram dishes out a slice of banana bread for herself and I follow her to the four-person kitchen table. As soon as I’m seated, I take a big bite and moan my approval.
Her face lights up as it always does when she sees one of my brothers or me enjoying her baking. “What’s new and exciting with you?”
I swallow my bite. “Nothing much. Just working. Business is good. I think we’re going to have to hire some more crew soon to keep up with the calls.”
Grams pats my hand. “I knew you boys would make a success of this business. Never a doubt in my mind.”
Our grams has always believed the three of us would do something great in this world, and after you’ve heard it for years, it’s hard not to believe it. Unfortunately, the side effect is that when you fail to do the right thing, the shame and guilt weighs even heavier on your shoulders—something I know well.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts, shoving the last of the banana bread in my mouth. Once I’ve swallowed, I stand from the chair. “I’m going to go work on those weeds until Gramps gets home, then I’ll take a look at that gutter for you.”
“Are you sure, sweetie? You probably already spent most of the day working.”
Rent-A Husband Page 3