Men at Work

by Karen Kendall, Cindi Myers

  He walked with her out onto the porch, sure she sensed the tension between them, Certainly, his every sense was attuned to her. He focused his gaze on the back of her neck, the pale inch of skin showing above the collar of her shirt, and thought about what it would be like to kiss her there….

  She looked back just then and caught him staring. Her lips parted and her eyes remained locked to his, the pupils dilated. He could hear her breathing, rapid and shallow. She put up her hand—whether to warn him away or merely to wave goodbye, he couldn’t say, but he grasped it and pulled her nearer. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since I saw you here tonight,” he said, as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  WHEN JOSH’SLIPS touched hers, Sam realized she’d been anticipating the kiss from the moment she’d recognized it was him in the shadows. While he’d been pointing out new molding and windows and talking about the work he’d done on the house, she’d been aware of the defined muscles of his biceps and the way his hair curled up at the back of his neck. When his hand had accidentally brushed her back her nerves had tingled as if lightning had struck nearby.

  She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the sawdust-and-clean-cotton scent of him surrounded her. The awareness of him that had started when he’d come to her studio yesterday had culminated in this hypersensitivity. When his mouth finally found hers it was almost a relief.

  Except she hadn’t anticipated the effect his kiss would have on her. She forgot everyone and everything at his touch and lost herself to the pure physicalness of the moment. His mouth moved against hers as if he knew exactly what would give her the most pleasure. When her lips parted he accepted the silent invitation and his mouth angled more fully against hers, his tongue teasing the sensitive nerve endings of her mouth, awakening other parts of her body to a desire that stunned her in its intensity. She clung to him with such a weak-kneed sensation that only his strong arms encircling her kept her from slipping down.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed before he broke the contact and released her. She struggled back to awareness and stared at him. “Why did you do that?” she asked.

  “Because we both wanted it,” he said, looking amused.

  She turned away. “I never said I wanted it.”

  “Everything about you said you wanted it.” His voice was husky. Seductive. “And so did I. We didn’t need words.”

  He was right, and with any other man she might have kissed him again and spent the rest of the evening indulging the desire that rocketed through them. But this was Josh. She was just another woman to him, but he was an ideal she’d been half in love with for years.

  “I think I’d better go now.” She started toward the steps.

  He braced one hand on the porch post, blocking her departure. “Are you upset because I kissed you, or because we knew each other when we were kids—or because of something else?”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “You’re a lousy liar.”

  Anger flared in her chest. She stood up straighter. “Maybe I’m not in the habit of kissing men I’ve just met.”

  “We’ve known each other half my life.”

  She shook her head. “We haven’t seen each other in years.” Though, she’d thought of him far too often.

  “There’s nothing wrong with getting to know each other again, is there?”

  “There might be.” Yes, he was a handsome man who seemed very nice. But how much of her attraction to him was based on memories of the crush she’d had on him that last, perfect summer before her world fell apart? She needed time to think, to make sure she wasn’t rushing into something for the wrong reason. Too often she’d let herself become attached to something—a family, a place, a friend—only to have it ripped away from her. Self-preservation had forced her to exercise caution.

  “Why do you say that?”

  But this time she didn’t answer with words. She ducked under his arm and walked briskly toward her car. He didn’t try to follow, but when she was halfway across the street he called after her. “I’ll stop by later this week to see those proofs,” he said. “We’ll talk more.”

  She shook her head and kept walking. Josh was right about one thing—she was a lousy liar. The kiss had been the most wonderful of her life. And she couldn’t deny her attraction to him. Walking through her dream house, listening to him wax eloquent on the subject of heart-of-pine floorboards and bead-board wainscoting, she’d been aware of a simmering heat between them. When he’d run his hands along a piece of smooth molding, she had almost been able to feel those same hands stroking her. When he’d brushed against her as he’d leaned to open a door, she’d shivered at his touch, having to fight to keep from leaning back against him.

  She’d had to remind herself that the man beside her wasn’t the fantasy she’d created over the years. It was one thing to amuse herself with such dreams, another to try to hang reality on them. If she gave in to her desire for Josh, she’d have to give up her starry-eyed daydreams for a real-life relationship that was bound to fall short. Some would say it was a worthwhile trade, but Sam had made it through a lot of rough times clinging to her dreams. She wasn’t sure if she could afford to give them up yet.

  3

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Josh nailed the last section of molding into place around the kitchen cabinets, then stepped back to admire his work. Every day now he moved closer to the time when he could put away the hammer and call the house done.

  “Hey, Josh! You in here?” a familiar male voice called.

  “Back here, Ed! In the kitchen.”

  One of Josh’s employees, a stocky man wearing a Barenaked Ladies T-shirt, stopped in the doorway to the room. “What’s up?” Ed asked.

  “I just finished installing the new cabinets.” Josh gestured toward the sleek metal shelving units. “What do you think? I found these at a clearance sale.”

  Ed walked over for a closer look. “Looks great. Better than those ugly plywood units that were here.” He glanced back at Josh. “You’re going to make a bundle on this place when it’s done. People will pay the big bucks for these old houses they don’t have to do anything to.”

  “Considering what I paid for the place, you’re right.” He stripped off his gloves and dropped them onto the plywood that served as a temporary countertop. He had granite ordered, due to be installed next week. “I can hardly believe it’s almost done. Squeezing this work in between other jobs it seems like it’s taken forever.”

  “Speaking of those other jobs, I came by to tell you Mrs. Anderson loves the work you did on her sun porch,” Ed said. “I was over there cleaning up and she said she’s telling all her neighbors about you. So you might have more work soon.”

  “Bring it on.” The two men walked out onto the back deck. “Did you stop by the Olvedas’ and check on the crew there?”

  “Danny said they should be finished by Friday.”

  Josh nodded. “Great. That means we can start on the Bishop job next week.”

  “You may have to hire more help,” Ed said.

  “Maybe. Right now I’m just glad to have the work.” It had taken him a long time to build the business to this level. A lot of lean days and weeks spent juggling bills. It was starting to pay off. Another year or two at this pace and, if nothing went wrong, he’d have paid off his small-business loan and be pulling in a solid six-figure profit. Then he could afford to relax a little.

  Ed leaned back against the deck railing. “Look at it this way—if the construction business goes south, you can always get work as a male model.”

  Josh gave Ed a warning look. “Don’t start that again.” When word had gotten out that he’d been asked to pose for the charity calendar, his crew had made his life hell. They’d started humming stripper music whenever he’d shown up, and some wag had left a Chippendale’s card in his truck. Only when he’d threatened to make them all march down to the studio and pose with him had they let up.

  “Hey, we’re all just jealous
,” Ed said. He patted his ample stomach. “Nobody’s asking me to take off my clothes. So how did it go the other day?”

  “How did what go?”

  “Your modeling session, or whatever you call it. How was it?”

  “It was okay.”

  “Uh-huh. So was the photographer a man or a woman?”

  “It was a woman.”

  Ed grimaced. “That must have been weird, stripping down for some chick you’d never met before.”

  “It wasn’t weird.” He didn’t tell Ed he’d taken off his clothes for strangers many times before. None of the men knew he’d paid for his education by stripping. He’d never hear the end of it if they found out.

  “Was she good-looking?”

  The suggestive tone of Ed’s voice annoyed him. “Why are you so interested?” he snapped.

  “Hey, I’m just living vicariously. I’ll bet she was hot.”

  “She was okay.” More than okay. Everything about Sam—her looks, her voice, the way she laughed, the way she smelled—had pushed every one of his buttons so that he was fully turned on. He had a hard time thinking straight when she was around. Hell, he had a hard time breathing normally when she was near. And then he’d made the mistake of kissing her—a mistake because now he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’d felt so incredible in his arms, he wanted to kiss her again. And to do more.

  It was tempting, but he definitely didn’t need that kind of distraction right now. He had to pay off his loans. Get a financial cushion in the bank. Then he could afford to stay home and make love to a woman all day, if that’s what he wanted.

  “Okay, huh?” Ed chuckled. “Well, get ready.”

  “Get ready for what?”

  “When that calendar comes out, half the women in Miami are going to be wanting to go out with you. You’ll have your pick of hot women.”

  He shook his head. “They’re going to be disappointed. I don’t have time to date.”

  Ed shook his head. “You know what they say about all work and no play…”

  He thought of Sam again. He wouldn’t mind playing a few games with her…“I’ve been thinking about hiring that photographer to take some pictures of this house. Catalogue some of the work I’ve done.” Though he and Sam had discussed her photos some, the idea of actually hiring her—of creating a business relationship—had grown on him after their discussion.

  Of course, it would mean seeing her again, spending more time with her. Not exactly sticking to his plan to keep his life free of complications while he focused on building his business.

  But this could be a good thing. He’d combine business with pleasure. Maybe getting to know Sam better wouldn’t be such a distraction. Her photographs might even help him reach his goals faster. And maybe Ed did have a point, about that all-workand-no-play thing.

  “What do you want the pictures for?” Ed asked.

  “I can put together some kind of PowerPoint presentation I can take to the city’s preservation board to lobby them to place me on their list of preferred contractors for the renovation of registered historic properties.”

  “You sure you aren’t just making an excuse to see that hot photographer again?”

  He glared at Ed.

  Ed put up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad idea. It’s a good one. And if you score a little action on the side…that’s not a bad idea, either.”

  That was what Josh had in mind, but he wasn’t sure he liked Ed pointing it out to him. It was one thing to contemplate a casual fling with a sexy woman he’d just met, but he and Sam had a history of sorts. She was probably right, that they were different people now, but the fact that they’d been friends in more innocent times made him feel he ought to handle her carefully. The fact that she’d been so skittish despite her obvious response to their kiss only confirmed his feelings. So the photography thing seemed a good way to play it. They could get to know each other better on a professional level, then, when the time was right, he’d find a way to pick up where that amazing kiss had left off.

  SAM CLIPPED the prints of the shots she’d taken at Josh’s house to the corkboard on one wall of her studio. She still couldn’t believe he owned the place. Her dream man with her dream house. The too-perfect-to-be-true aspect really made her nervous, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her.

  But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him all the time. He was obviously as crazy about the place as she was—he’d restored it so lovingly.

  “Where’d you take those pictures?” Mr. Buenavides, who had walked in a few minutes ago and helped himself to a can of sugar-free iced tea from her refrigerator, walked up behind her and studied the photos.

  “It’s a house over in Washington Park a friend of mine is remodeling.” Not that Josh was exactly a friend, but she couldn’t call a man she’d kissed that way an enemy, either.

  “Wouldn’t have one of them old places,” Mr. B. said. “It costs a fortune to fix them up. You could buy a new one with all the fancy bells and whistles for what one of them places costs.”

  “But the new place wouldn’t be the same,” Sam said. “It wouldn’t have the history or the character a place like this has.”

  “Hmmph. You call it character. I call it a lot of old stuff that breaks down.”

  “How was your doctor’s visit?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Sugar’s still too high. He gave me a whole new list of things I can’t eat and told me to walk every day.” He pulled a white handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped his forehead. “Who wants to get out and walk in this heat?”

  “You could go to the mall,” she said. “They have air-conditioning there. And exercise is good for you.”

  “Like a girl your age would know.”

  A knock on the door silenced him. “You expecting a customer?” Mr. B. asked.

  She shook her head and went to answer the knock. A check of the peephole showed Josh standing on the landing. Her reaction to the sight of him was not reassuring—her heart raced and her knees felt like limp spaghetti. No doubt about it, the man was dangerous to her equilibrium.

  “Who is it?” Mr. B. asked, coming up behind her. “You gonna open the door, or should I call the police?”

  She shook her head. “No police.” She yanked open the door and stood back. “Come in, Josh,” she said. “You remember my landlord, Mr. B.?”

  “Hello.” Josh offered his hand.

  Mr. B. ignored the hand and scowled at Josh. “Almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Josh came to look at the proofs of the pictures I took.” She steered the older man toward the door. “The pictures for the charity calendar.”

  “Hmmph. Amazing what people will waste good money on these days.” Still grumbling, he shuffled out the door and down the steps.

  “I don’t think he likes me,” Josh said.

  “He’s a little overprotective,” she said. “It’s sweet, really.” Mr. B. was as close to a grandfather as she had and, for that reason alone, she cherished him, crotchety nature and all.

  “So he thinks, since the first time he met me I was naked, I must be up to no good.”

  “Something like that.”

  He grinned. “Maybe he’s right.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a warning.” She walked over to the her worktable and found the photos she’d taken of him. “They turned out pretty good.” She laid out half a dozen glossies. “I’m thinking this one for the calendar.” She pointed to one that showed him reclining on his side, one hand on the strategically placed circular saw, wearing only a devastating grin and a scorching look in his eyes. She didn’t want to admit how much time she’d spent staring at the shot when it came back from the printer.

  He studied the photo and whistled low. “You make me look good,” he said. “I hope Frameworks for the Future is pleased.”

  “They will be. I predict women will be
standing in line to buy these calendars.”

  He returned the photo to her. “Do you have room in your schedule for another job?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye. “Do you know someone who needs a photographer?” Maybe he had a friend who was getting married or something.

  “Me.”

  “You?” She could barely get the word out.

  “Yeah. I was thinking about that project we discussed yesterday. I want you to take some more pictures of the house I’m rehabbing. And maybe use some of the photos you’ve already taken of the place.”

  She stared at him, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her. “You want me to take pictures of the house?”

  “Yeah. You said that’s what you like to do, right?”

  She tore her eyes from his gaze, afraid that any moment now she’d either throw herself at him or start drooling. “Um, why do you want the photos?” she asked.

  He straightened, putting a little more distance between them. “I want to get more work rehabbing historic properties,” he said. “I thought if I put together a PowerPoint presentation, I could take it to the preservation board and get on their list of preferred contractors.”

  “It’s a good idea.”

  “Then, you’ll do it?”

  She hesitated. She wasn’t sure it was smart to get too involved with Josh. But she couldn’t resist the prospect of spending more time in a house she loved. Not to mention, this could be good for her own business. “Maybe the preservation board would hire me to document the buildings on their list,” she said.

  “That’s a great idea. So this could be good for both of us.”

  She nodded, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  “Great.” He leaned back against the worktable. “Why don’t we get together over dinner and talk about it more. I have a few ideas for shots I want.”

  She was willing to bet those weren’t the only ideas he had. “We can talk now.”