by Loyd, Sandy
He halted outside Amelia’s room and took in the airy space that his daughter’s input and interests inspired.
Claire laughed and stepped inside. “Nice room. I like the jungle theme.”
“Amelia’s idea. She has a thing for frogs and animals of the rain forest.”
“I gather your kids are with their mother?” She walked up to the bureau and glanced over her shoulder.
He nodded.
“They’re beautiful girls.”
His eyebrows drew up in question.
She smiled and indicated the picture in front of her. “I couldn’t help noticing.” Looking around the space, she took her time. “You did a great job with this room.”
“I had help. Both girls had to paint and design their space.”
“Beauty and talent. Just like their dad.”
“They keep me hopping.” Shrugging, he ignored the way her praise made him want to beat his chest and brag some more. “Chloe’s room is across the hall.”
She followed. “You’re lucky to have kids. They seem like terrific girls.”
“Chloe thinks she’s a princess in disguise,” he explained, watching Claire step into Chloe’s castle. “My youngest daughter’s thing is fairy tales.”
Jason spent a few minutes observing her investigate the space before asking, “How about you? Would you like a few?” When her brows furrowed, he added, “Kids.”
“My, we’re getting personal.” Her teasing grin told him she didn’t mind.
“I’m curious. It’s the attorney in me.” When she didn’t reply right away, he prodded. “Well? Was the question too personal?”
“Give me a minute,” she said with a quick laugh. “I’m thinking.”
“Sure. I know it’s a tough question, so take all the time you need.” Standing near the door, he indicated for her to follow him. “I’ll finish the tour while you’re thinking.”
“Okay, you’ve made your point.” She frowned. “I used to blame Carl because of his . . . well . . . you know, for not having any. But now, even if I had a different husband, I’m not sure I’m ready to be a parent. I may never be.”
“No one’s ever ready. You just do the best you can.”
“You seem to be handling parenthood okay.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you spent any amount of time around us. There’s always chaos when they’re here. Controlled chaos, but it’s still chaos.”
“Somehow I can’t picture that. You seem too organized, especially after seeing this room.”
By this point, they’d stepped into the open, pleasant space he’d completed after moving into the monstrosity of a house. The finished product of his efforts in here had kept him on course, demonstrating in bold contrasts the before and after. His plan had been to create an area where he and his girls could hang out and feel comfortable, a home theater and game room in one.
The awe in her voice pleased him. He found he liked the idea of impressing her with his hard work. “Let’s just say I adjust.”
“So, tell me more about them.”
“You mean their rooms don’t say it all?”
“They give me a good idea. But I want to know more.”
“They’re as different as night and day. Chloe is my romantic. Very fastidious and all girl. She loves reading fairy tales, playing dress-up, and playing with dolls. Amelia, on the other hand, hates what she terms as girly-girl things. She’s into sports, with baseball and football being her favorites. Unlike Chloe, Amelia couldn’t care less if her face is dirty. She still balks at taking showers. I’m not sure which one was left on the doorstep.”
“They make parenthood sound like a lot of fun.”
“They’re my life.”
“When do I get to meet them?”
Jason hadn’t been expecting the question, and he couldn’t stop his surprise from bleeding into his expression.
“That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Are you sure you want to?” he teased. “Chaos isn’t pretty.”
“They can’t be that bad. After all, they’re related to you.”
“I rest my case,” he said, shaking his head. “That alone tells you everything, but I’m sure you’ll meet them sooner than later.”
The few minutes Claire peered into corners left him with one conclusion. She definitely belonged in the room.
She looked at him expectantly. “Now what?”
Jason smiled and held out his hand. “Tour’s over. Now it’s time to work.”
“Then lead on,” she replied, linking fingers with his.
Jason led her toward the master bath he’d been working on, ignoring thoughts of having to pass through his bedroom and the inviting four-poster bed along the way.
Don’t even go there, Roberts, he mentally commanded.
He was putting her to work. That’s why she was still here.
Yeah, right, he silently responded.
Kissing Claire again had been a big mistake. He could still taste her. Every now and then he’d get a whiff of her delicate perfume, and it was all he could do to keep from attacking her. The memory of her heated gaze moving over his body when he’d opened the door earlier kept infiltrating his thoughts, belying the notion that work was the only reason he let her stay.
When they entered the bedroom, Claire stopped suddenly, pulling out of his grasp.
“Wow. Saving the best for last, I see.”
Jason watched her do a three sixty, taking in everything as she went. “Like it?” he asked.
He glanced around, trying to view his space through feminine eyes. The navy and sage colors spoke to him because they had a masculine feel, but he wasn’t sure she’d find them as appealing.
Admiration showed in her eyes, and he pulled himself up a little taller.
“Like it? I love it. Who knew a lawyer could have such talent for putting colors together?” She stepped over to the bed and fingered the spread. “The rich hues suit the space, but aren’t overpowering.”
Then she moved to one of the posts and touched it lovingly. “I’ve never seen more beautifully carved wood, except maybe your dining room table and chairs.” She turned back to him with a questioning gaze. “Where on earth did you get dark wood like this in South Florida?”
“Came with the house. Some needs work; some needs to be chucked. I had those dining room chairs recovered in ivory. Don’t think you would’ve like gold velveteen.”
“Gold velveteen?” Her eyes flashed amusement. “The place came furnished?”
“When I made some comment openly admiring a few pieces, the widow added them to the deal. At a great price, I might add, for the same reason I got the house so cheap.” He shrugged. “Her exact words were, ‘I’d rather my stuff go to someone who appreciates it than to heirs I rarely see and I don’t know, who are sitting around like vultures waiting for me to die.’ She’s quite a feisty lady.”
Unsure how long his restraint would last this close to his bed, he reached out for her. “Come on. If you want to stay, you have to work.”
“Okay. I’m game.” Claire took his outstretched hand.
Stepping over boxes of tiles, he led her into the large master bath. At the door, he critically eyed the mess and expelled a deep breath.
The toilet was torn out, and glass doors leaned against the wall, waiting to be installed once the newly tiled shower was grouted. He was halfway done with the floor, tiling his way toward the entrance from the large whirlpool tub he’d installed during the week with Jimbo’s help. Even though the new vanity with double sinks was also installed, the room was still a total mess.
“My, my! A jack of all trades.” She crossed her arms and took a look around. “I’m impressed.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Jason was doing this for himself, not praise. Still, her warm approval sent another surge of pleasure throughout his system.
“So modest.” Using her fingers, she counted. “Carpentry, wallpapering, painting, plumbing, and tiling.” She glanced at hi
m with slanted eyebrows. “What? No electrical?”
“Just the lights. All the pipes and wiring were updated about fifteen years ago. The air-conditioner and compressor’s been replaced in the past two years. Mrs. McPherson didn’t like to be hot.” He went over to a big bucket, took off the lid, and stirred the mixture inside. “Are you going to work in those clothes?”
She glanced down and pursed her lips. “Hmm. I guess this blouse isn’t the best thing for laying tile.”
Jason set the trowel inside the bucket, then rummaged in the dresser in his walk-in closet and yanked out one of his old T-shirts.
“Here.” He held out the shirt. “This will work.”
“Thanks.” She slipped it over her head. The big shirt hung past her knees, covering her clothes.
“I’ve already set the line, so if you use these tile spacers”—he held up one of the rubber crosses—“you’ll stay true.”
He placed one in the corner of a tile he’d set earlier, explaining to Claire the fine art of laying tile correctly. “Make sure you lay the mortar evenly. Like this.”
Then he demonstrated, placing a glob of thinset on the floor with a trowel, taking the spreader with teeth, and smoothing it out. “That’ll add strength. Tiles can crack if air’s trapped underneath.”
She gave it a try.
Once satisfied with her efforts, he began grouting in the shower while Claire spent the time on her knees laying eighteen-inch squares.
An hour or so later, he heard her laugh and glanced in her direction.
“What?” By this point he was done with grouting and was in the middle of installing the glass doors.
“I can’t believe you really put me to work.”
“I distinctly remember warning you.”
“But this is work work.”
“Is there any other kind?” He studied her handiwork and grunted. “Besides, you’re handling that spreader easily enough. Tiles look straight. Nothing to it.”
“Yeah, right.” She stretched. “I don’t know why I stayed.”
He chuckled. “You know why.”
“Oh?” Claire shot him a look. “Care to tell me?”
“You’re here for the same reason I searched you out yesterday. You couldn’t stay away.”
“Maybe.”
“And . . . you’re here to finish what we started last night.”
“Maybe.” Digging into the bucket, she laughed again.
“No maybe about it.”
He grinned, observing her and shaking his head before refocusing on his task. When done, he set the glass in place and added the top part of the frame, holding it in place as he turned the screwdriver.
“Besides, saves me the time and effort of chasing you down once I got this room tiled.”
Claire stopped, holding the spreader in midair as she eyed him warily while chewing on her bottom lip.
She cleared her throat. “You were going to chase me down?”
After glimpsing several emotions sweep across her face, he chuckled and went back to twisting the screw into place. “That was my plan. I’m really tired of showering in the girls’ bathroom, so my goal for the weekend was to finish tiling this room and to install the shower door. As you’re finding out, it’s a big job, one made faster and easier with help. Since I knew all thoughts of work would go by the wayside once we got together, I’m doing this first.”
“What? I’m some kind of reward for finishing?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s sick.” She let out a disgusted snort and bent over the bucket of mortar. “I can’t believe you’d use me like that.”
“I told you, I use what works. Besides, you didn’t think I’d give it up so easily, did you?”
“Excuse me?” Her cheekbones pinked.
“You heard me.”
Going back to her task, she threw thinset on the floor and spread it out before taking another tile and setting it in place. “You’ve definitely got the wrong idea,” she finally said.
“So you’re not here to seduce me?”
Jason finished tightening the last screw and jumped off the stepladder. After folding and setting the ladder aside, he opened and shut the glass door several times, making sure it operated smoothly. It was a struggle to keep the smile off his face as he surreptitiously watched her put the last tile in place.
Claire fascinated him as no one else ever had, including Elise. The lady had so many hidden facets. Every new one he encountered only added to his attraction.
Silently, he moved to stand behind her and waited until she finished. When she tossed the tool in the bucket, Jason reached down and helped her stand.
“Thanks. You did a great job. I appreciate the help, but I know I coerced you.”
She straightened, and he let go. She wiped her hands on the T-shirt before taking it off.
“I guess that’s it,” she murmured, keeping her gaze on the floor. “Except for the edges.”
“I’ll do those during the week before I grout. Mortar’s quick drying. Grout doesn’t have to be in place to walk on the tiles.”
“Looks like you still have a lot of work ahead.”
“Won’t take much.” He shrugged. “Some cutting.”
He hid his smile when he put his hands on her shoulders, and she jumped.
“Relax, would you?” He slid his hands up and down her arms. Her back stiffened even more, if that was possible. “I don’t bite.”
“I’m fine,” she said as she tried to step out of his grasp.
“No, you’re not. You’re tight as a drum.” He let go of one arm, placing a finger under her chin to force her to meet his amused gaze. “What happened to the brazen lady I saw standing outside my door this morning?”
“I guess I’m still getting used to her.”
Her tongue made a nervous pass over soft lips, and she cleared her throat while her gaze darted furtively to the floor. A few seconds later, he felt the soft expel of her breath over his hand.
Jason chuckled and released her. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“No. I was in too big a hurry.”
“You should’ve said something earlier.”
“I wasn’t hungry. I filled up on brownies.”
“Brownies?” He rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue, shaking his head in disgust.
Claire’s chin went up. “They served their purpose.”
“Come on,” he said, grunting. “I’m sure we can scrounge up something to eat in my kitchen you hate so much.”
“Your kitchen’s not that bad.”
“Don’t lie. I saw the look on your face when you took in my green appliances.”
“Gut reaction. I didn’t know there were any left on the planet.”
“They still work. I consider them antiques.”
“I hate to break this to you, Jason, but only the best of the best makes it into that category. Avocado green appliances don’t cut it. Neither does shag carpeting, especially orange shag.”
“Picky, picky.”
Jason smiled, happy to note their banter helped the tension along her back to dissipate as her shoulders relaxed. A wide grin replaced the wariness he spotted earlier. The lady definitely had two sides.
“And since I now know how you really feel about my kitchen, we’ll eat in the dining room. Still, you can keep me company while I cook. That is, if you can stand being in the same room with my antiques.”
He held out a hand and clasped hers once she placed it inside his.
Chapter 29
With her legs crossed at the ankle, Claire leaned against the ugly countertop, drinking a tall glass of water as she watched Jason cook omelets. He performed the task with an ease of someone who knew his way around the kitchen.
“You’re quite an amazing guy.” Her courage returned as most of her earlier embarrassment faded. Eyeing him now, she had to admit that he had the uncanny ability to shock her one minute, while putting her totally at ease the next.
“Oh?”
He quirked an eyebrow and waited.
“Provider, jack of all trades. And then I learn he cooks.”
“Necessity. I get tired of restaurants, and when the girls stay, it’s something we can do together.”
“Add to that perfection Father of the Year. You’re a walking fantasy.” And after all those hot kisses, she could probably add perfect lover as well.
“I have my faults. I wasn’t always a great father, but I’m working on it. When I think of all I missed out on by being absent, I cringe. I always had an excuse, usually work related.”
“Well, from my vantage point, all I can say is your ex is a fool.” How could any woman let such a good-looking, sexy specimen like him go?
He ignored her comment and concentrated on cooking, seeming uncomfortable with her praise, so she didn’t add any more to the conversation.
Finally, he turned the burner down and reached to take out plates from the cupboard before heading to the fridge. He bent and removed several items.
“Would you like anything else besides water? I have soft drinks, orange juice, milk.”
“I’m fine.”
“This is almost ready. You want to set the table?” When she nodded, he pulled out a drawer and pointed to a cabinet. “Silverware’s in here and everything else is in there. There’s fancy if you want or casual. I’m fine either way.”
She jumped to do as he asked. Decided on fancy because the idea sounded fun. She rooted through the drawers, retrieving items that would help achieve her goal.
“Table’s set,” she announced, coming back into the room as he filled two plates. “Looks delicious.” Smelled delicious too.
With plates in hand, he glanced at her and indicated the butter and jam on the counter with the tilt of his head. “Will you grab those?”
Claire nodded and quickly followed, wanting to see his reaction to her efforts. “Like it?”
Flickering candles in the center of the dining table added ambience to the delicate gold-rimmed china and sterling silverware. Though the backdrop was a little rough, the setting definitely had a romantic flair. Lace place settings and linen napkins aided her attempt.