White paint had splashed on his navy cotton shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice. His green eyes flashed fury and his fingers bit into her upper arms. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded again, shouting to be heard.
“Painting.”
“You’re not supposed to be on a ladder.”
“Doc Johnson gave me a clean bill of health,” she insisted, wondering why she was even trying to explain herself to this infuriating man.
“He told you to avoid strenuous activities.”
“You asked?”
“I heard,” he corrected her.
“My life is none of your business.”
His eyes narrowed and heated fury cooled into green granite.
“Let me go,” she said.
He did, and suddenly she missed his touch.
Pretending her hand wasn’t shaking, she laid the paintbrush across the can and turned off the music. “Did you want something?”
He dragged a hand through his hair, making the grooves next to his eyes even more visible. From the short time they’d been together, she still recognized the layer of tension on his face. He’d obviously been working too many hours, sleeping too few. She nearly gave in to the impulse of rubbing her fingers across his neck and shoulders like she might have, once upon a time.
“I wanted to double-check a few details for the bid. Called your house. When there wasn’t an answer, I figured you’d still be here. You’ve always worked too hard.”
“And so have you,” she countered.
“I didn’t come here for an argument.” He held up a hand in truce. “I came to ask about the time frame.”
“The time frame?”
“For completing the renovations.”
She let out a breath. It was so easy to stiffen her spine for an argument. Maybe she was prickly, she realized. But she’d struggled too hard for her independence to let any man tell her what to do. “I’d like the job finished before tourist season. I could even arrange a bonus if it were completed early.
“Aunt Emma’s letting the kids use the coffee shop for now, and the senior center is offering some space, as well. But Auntie Em will need us to be out of there when the tourists arrive.”
“I thought you’d only be here a few weeks.”
“You’re right. I’ll probably have to fly back and forth a couple of times. But I’m expected to be home about a week before the Valentine’s Day Gala. It’s my yearly fund-raiser.”
“Where wallets become lighter.”
“I’ll do nearly anything to part people from their money, if it’s for a good cause.” She laughed, and so did he. For a second, it was as if the past hadn’t happened. Her laughter faded.
She expected him to leave. Instead, he rolled up his shirtsleeves. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you.”
“Helping me?”
“If I’m going to be the contractor, there’s a lot of work to be done.”
“You haven’t submitted a bid.”
He stopped, mid-roll, and glanced up at her.
There was something so incredibly sexy about rolled-back sleeves and exposed forearms. Why hadn’t she seen that before?
“Are you turning down free help?” he asked.
The businesswoman in her knew she shouldn’t be so stubborn. At home, she’d often call her friends and offer pizza and soda to anyone who’d show up. But instinct urged her to send him away. This wasn’t a big room. They’d definitely be bumping into each other. It was night and intimate, and she was very much aware of him.
What was best for the center conflicted with what was best for her.
“Let me put it this way, Angie. I’m not letting you go back up that ladder.”
“Shane…”
“Don’t let your pride stand in the way, Ang. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself. The doctor said so.”
His voice changed, dropping an octave until it was cajoling and seductive. “You’ll get through the work twice as fast with my help.”
But that wasn’t the point. The point was to kill time, so she wasn’t home alone with thoughts of him. Being with him would only be worse.
“Accept my help, Angie.”
Was she losing her mind? “This isn’t on the clock?”
He shook his head. “You should take advantage of me. I don’t give a lot of freebies.”
“Do you always win?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, a disarming grin that melted the rest of her resistance.
“I’ll do the ceilings,” he said. “You do the lower half of the walls.”
She had lost her mind.
Angie turned the music back on and restarted the song. Then she grabbed a paintbrush for Shane and offered it to him.
“Did you pick this CD on purpose?”
“I like it.”
He took the brush and fanned the bristles. “And the song?”
“It’s my favorite.”
“Any man of yours better walk the line?”
“Someone has to, and it isn’t going to be me.”
“You’re getting sassy.”
“I’m learning.”
Shane climbed the ladder, and she dropped to her knees to work on the baseboard. A drop of paint splattered on her head.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t sound sorry,” she said suspiciously. “Are you feeling sassy yourself?”
“Men aren’t sassy.”
“Sure,” she said, wiping the paint from her forehead.
In a short amount of time, the room was finished.
Working so close to him played havoc with her resolve to see him as nothing other than a contractor. Each time she glanced up, she saw his slim hips and muscular thighs. She couldn’t help but notice the way his Wranglers conformed to his behind….
She put down her brush and said, “How about a soda?”
“How about a beer?”
“This is a kids’ center.”
“Soda sounds fine.”
“Thought it might.” She escaped. Until she was in the tiny kitchenette, she hadn’t realized how fast her heart was pounding or how hot she’d become.
She’d sworn off men, all men, so it wasn’t possible for any man to have this overwhelming effect on her, especially her ex-husband.
“Thought I’d come and get it.”
Startled, she felt her pulse stutter. She turned to face him, then backed up a step when she saw how close he stood. Only inches from her, he filled the doorway, and his purely masculine scent flooded the atmosphere.
She handed him a soda, then sat at the tiny table.
He joined her, taking a long, deep drink from the soda. They’d shared a lot at the cabin, but that time had been unreal. She’d thought herself to be in love with him and was focused on little else but the enforced—and wanted—emotional intimacy.
Now she saw him as a man who gave his all to whatever he was involved with, whether it was getting together a bid, even volunteer work. On a whole new level, he attracted her. And that made her doubly wary.
He reached over, capturing a lock of hair between his fingers. She ran her tongue over her teeth and studied the bead of sweat running down the aluminum can.
“You’ve got more paint on your hair than on the wall.”
“That’s partially your fault.”
He rubbed at the paint, then brushed it from her hair. The act would have been natural between lovers. As it was, she could barely breathe.
Wondering what he was doing, Shane released the strand of hair and dropped his hand. He’d stopped by to clear up a few things on the bid, not to get involved with her on a personal level.
He hadn’t needed to help her paint, but there was something about her he couldn’t resist. And damn it, she needed someone to make sure she followed doctor’s orders.
Someone pounded on the door and Shane went to answer it, returning with a gooey veggie supreme pizza. “Dinner?”
“Enough to share. If you’re hungry?”
She took a bite and melted cheese dripped onto her chin. She laughed and he reached over to swipe it away. Instead he kissed her.
It wasn’t planned, wasn’t welcome, but there it was, hot and searing, making him want.
When she pulled away, he saw her drag in a few deep breaths, saw her pulse pounding in her throat. His was doing the same.
“Thanks for your help,” she said, standing so quickly she nearly knocked over a chair.
“Sure.”
After she put away the leftovers, she joined Shane in the other room. Together they finished painting, then cleaned the brushes, saying nothing about the kiss. Then surveyed their handiwork.
“We did a good job,” she said.
“Yeah.” At one time, he’d thought they would make a good team.
“Let me know when the bid’s ready.”
After agreeing, Shane shrugged into his jacket and headed outside. He welcomed the cold, better than the sizzling heat that had burned between him and Angie. He should be able to keep his hands to himself. But when she was around, it was impossible.
Her car was dusted with snow and the windows were crusted with an eighth-inch of frost. Without stopping to think, he grabbed his ice scraper and cleaned off her car.
Without a doubt, she was independent enough to scrape her own windows. She might not even appreciate his efforts, even though the old Angie would have been touched.
But this confident woman was no longer the same young woman who’d arrived in town for the summer, having just graduated from college with a business degree in her mind and dreams of being a success in her heart.
She was no longer as vulnerable. She’d grown and changed. She was the success she’d imagined, taking her vision and combining it with knowledge and determination. According to Matt, Dreams and Wishes was one of the best-funded charitable organizations in the country.
She’d established it with her own money and was relentless in fund-raising activities. She gave college and camp scholarships, anything, really, as long as it had to do with kids. He knew she’d wanted her own children. So why didn’t she have any?
He couldn’t help being intrigued.
Driving home, he wondered why he tortured himself with thoughts of her. If she wanted them to be business associates, then business associates were what they’d be.
Sure an inner voice taunted.
At home, Hardhat barked excitedly and dashed over, then trotted back to the fireplace and looked at Shane expectantly. After lighting a fire, more for the dog than himself, Shane tried not to think of the things he’d missed by keeping women at a distance—companionship, sex, love, being abandoned…
He’d had enough of the last for a lifetime. If he protected himself from facing loss again, he would willingly go without the others.
That decision had been easier earlier in the week, before he’d spent the evening with Angie working together, laughing together, eating together, like they used to, another lifetime ago.
Shane raked a hand through his hair.
When she’d stayed with him, he’d thought that sleeping with her would extinguish the flame, but it hadn’t. It had only fed it. Which left him with a hell of a problem. He desired a woman he could never have, a woman he would never trust. He didn’t know what to do about it, but only one thing was sure: His protective armor was starting to crack and that meant working with Angie would only get more difficult….
Nine
“Well?” Shane asked, pushing back his chair from the desk and standing to greet her.
“We have a deal,” she said. Her throat suddenly dried, so she swallowed deeply. Even though she hadn’t seen him over the weekend, she’d thought of him constantly, remembering the hardness of his kiss and the reactive softening inside her.
She didn’t welcome her response to him. She didn’t want to be involved with any man, but no man, ever, had had the effect on her that Shane did.
Walking in here today was as difficult as she’d imagined it would be, and she’d stalled over a third cup of coffee at the Chuckwagon Diner. She’d chatted with Matt, Bridget and Bernadette and answered Bernadette’s endless questions.
It surprised Angie that Shane didn’t already know she was coming to see him. “As soon as you sign the contract,” she told him, “I’ll have a check overnighted to you.”
“Deal.”
He offered his hand and she reluctantly accepted. The instant hers was engulfed in his firm grip, she was reminded this was anything but business as usual. Men she dealt with didn’t make her insides tighten, didn’t make her lose track of her next thought. It wasn’t until he released her that she could talk at all. “When can you start?”
“Next week.”
“I’ll be leaving soon.” She worried her lower lip and glanced at him. “I was hoping you could start tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” He arched a brow.
“Unless you’re free this afternoon.”
“You don’t want much, do you?”
“The foundation’s good for the money.”
“Wasn’t worried about that.”
“Then…?”
“I have other projects scheduled.”
“As important as this?” she asked. “This is for the kids. They deserve a wonderful place to play and create. They’re going to be cramped at the coffee shop and senior center. In fact, Matt has had to open some of the classrooms at the church to accommodate the overflow. What could be more important than getting this project—for the whole town—started?”
“You’re a shrewd woman, Angie.”
“So you’ll arrange it?”
“Maybe I can hire an extra couple of guys.”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, ye-es!” She curled her hand into a victorious fist. “I knew I could count on you.” She’d won, the kids had won. “Thank you, Shane. Matt’ll appreciate it, my aunt will appreciate it, the kids will appreciate it. I appreciate it.”
He hooked a thumb in a denim belt loop. “Do you?”
In response, she excitedly hugged him, then instantly regretted her enthusiasm. He remained stiff and she quickly moved away.
What was wrong with her? Last night had proved he was the last man she should hug.
He took his seat. “I’ll try to rearrange my crew’s schedule,” he said, unbending a paper clip, then scrunching it up.
“So I’ll see you today?”
He glanced up. “You’ll see a crew tomorrow,” he corrected her. “If I can rearrange their schedules.”
Which was much better than she’d dared hope for; after all, his bid didn’t say he’d begin work before February 1. “You won’t be there yourself?”
He dropped the paper clip in the wastebasket. “I’ll periodically oversee the project.”
“What about the quality?”
“I personally guarantee my crews’ work.”
“I see.” Telling herself it was best if they didn’t deal with each other, even if the knowledge was like a knot in her stomach, she thanked him and left.
At the end of the day, she drove home, hungry and tired. She’d spent part of the day on the telephone to her assistant, the rest helping Matt and other volunteers moving tables, chairs, arts and crafts supplies and all the equipment from the gymnasium over to the coffee shop, senior center and the church. Her muscles ached and burned, her hair was an unruly mess and she hadn’t eaten.
She flicked on a light and shivered. The heating in the Victorian took a long time to get going, so she left her jacket on and walked into the kitchen.
She intended to enjoy her dinner of a peanut butter sandwich and milk before taking a hot bath and collapsing beneath the thick down comforter on her bed.
In the upstairs bathroom, she discovered that the roof was leaking. With a scowl, she searched out a
bucket and positioned it to catch the dripping water.
Great.
Shane was the only reputable contractor in town, and she needed him. Yet calling him was the last thing she wanted to do.
The leak could wait until tomorrow, she told herself.
Luckily, by the next morning, the leak had stopped completely and she put it out of her mind.
When she arrived at the old school building, her mouth fell open. Shane was there, a tool belt slung low around his hips and a black short-sleeved T-shirt conforming to his upper body. “I thought you were going to send over a crew.”
He took in the way she was dressed, blue jeans, tennis shoes, a button-down shirt. She saw the approval in his forest-green eyes and felt a corresponding ripple of awareness in her stomach.
“Some of my men are out with the flu,” he said.
“And you didn’t want to disappoint the town.”
“Something like that.”
She wanted to push more but didn’t dare. Instead, she asked, “What can I do to help?”
“Stay off ladders.”
She looked at him, uncertain whether or not he was joking. He wasn’t, she decided, judging by the look in his dark green eyes. “I want to help, and I will.”
“This is my project now,” he said. “I call the shots.”
Her chin came up. “I’m paying the bills.”
“And you’re welcome to find another contractor.”
“You’re as stubborn as a mule,” she said.
“Yeah,” he agreed comfortably. “The mule who’s in charge.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Things would be much easier with a contractor who didn’t fill her mind with images of a lazy kiss and a roaring fire. “Let’s call a truce,” she said.
He arched an eyebrow.
“We need to work together, and I can’t do it with all the tension that springs up every time we’re alone. Let’s forget that the weekend at your cabin ever happened and we can start over.”
“Forget we kissed? Forget we made love?” he asked softly, his work boots echoing off the flooring and ricocheting from the ceiling as he moved toward her.
One Snowbound Weekend... Page 10