“I would have charged you five minutes for both, don’t doubt it. And I’m putting my timer on now.” She gave him an entertained grin, indicating the bedroom with the bathroom beyond.
“You’ll join the millionaires’ club within the year at this rate,” he said as he opened the bathroom door. “Very nice. Thanks for this, Calli.”
She smiled, despite knowing that men and bathrooms were incompatible. Nothing could be more certain than she would have to clean up after him. However, he opened the door well within the ten-minute time span with his towel slung around his neck and dressed in the same clothes but with wet slicked-back hair.
“Ten minutes,” she said as he walked to the outside door.
He nodded and hesitated. “Is it too early in the morning to ask a favor of you?”
“That depends what it is.”
“It’s a personal thing.” He shuffled his feet. “Would you come to the Barossa Valley with Kell and me on Saturday? Emily will be coming, too. We’ll be doing lunch and a bit of wine tasting.”
“You’re asking me out on a date?” Her mind said no-no-no; she didn’t want to watch Kell romance Emily. She didn’t want to see Emily making doe eyes at him and accept being his servant.
He shook his head. “Just a regular foursome. Kell asked Emily and her friend Amber, but Amber can’t come. I told him I would ask you, and he said okay.”
“So you are asking me out on a date?”
“No. I’m asking you for Killer.”
Her heartbeat went into overdrive. “Why can’t he ask me for himself?”
“Because he thinks you’ll be my date.”
She swallowed her disappointment. “If he wants to be with Emily, why are we going to all this trouble? Can’t he just go with her?”
“I don’t want him to. I don’t think he is the man for her. I think I am.”
“That’s very romantic, Trent.” She had been ridiculous to hope that Kell might give her more than the time of day or even that he might be shy about asking a woman for a date. He didn’t have a shy cell in that whole big gorgeous body of his. “So, why don’t you ask her and skip all these complications?”
“Like every other woman, she wants Kell. He would play with her for a couple of weeks and then get bored. I don’t want him sleeping with her. If I end up marrying her, I don’t want to know she was with him first.”
“You’re serious about Emily?”
“Couldn’t be more serious. I spent most of last Sunday night at the barbeque talking to her. She’s a nurse. She’s smart and kind, not Kell’s type at all. He likes frivolous women who just want to have fun, no strings. She’s the type a man would want to settle down with. I made some headway two days ago, but she is still thinking she is interested in Kell.”
“And I’m somehow supposed to sidetrack him? I’m hardly the frivolous type myself.”
“You’re cool and calm. You’re not interested in him. He takes that as a challenge. I think you could sidetrack him for a while by doing that thing women do.”
“Do I want to know what that is?”
“Hot and cold.” He scratched his neck. “Friendly, but not too friendly. Interested, but not too interested. If you do, I’ll make it worth your while. Whatever time you spend distracting Kell on Saturday, I’ll pay back in rock-shifting.”
She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on his face. “What sort of lunch is in this deal?”
He laughed. “It won’t be wrapped in paper. This will be a regular date, but he will think you’re mine. I’m sure I can peel Emily away from him with your help.”
“You’ve got more faith in my charms than I have. Mind you, I would do almost anything for a restaurant lunch. And what could possibly go wrong with a plan that will have me playing myself?”
“Well… ” He looked slightly dubious. “He likes you, I think, and I won’t be worse off if he spends the night with her, because that was always in the cards. But I have to at least try, don’t I? What is it about him, other than his looks, anyway? Why do women drop by all the time, wanting to feed him or wanting the other thing?”
She kept her face expressionless, but apparently she had at least one trait in common with Kell’s women—looking at him and instantly thinking about the other thing. “I don’t see it myself.” She tried to use a cool and calm voice instead of a lying voice. “He hasn’t exactly impressed me. First, he thought I was a boy, then he thought he could order me around, and then he tackled me. I wouldn’t say we have made a good impression on each other.”
“He said you have long eyelashes.”
“What?”
“I’ve never heard him say anything about a woman’s eyelashes before. That’s when I thought I might get away with using you to distract him.”
Long eyelashes? When did a man ever notice something like real eyelashes? “I’ve never been used to distract a man from another woman. I hope I’m not going to embarrass you and myself, but yes, because I’m irresistibly drawn into any old nefarious scheme by blatant flattery. I’m your date for Saturday, and I’ll try to get between Emily and Kell. And what do you think of that?” she asked her best advisor, the cat. “Me trying to distract Mr. Bossy?”
Hobo considered the weighty matter for a moment before deciding to sleep on her answer. She curled herself in a neat little ball and closed her eyes.
“I think she’s quite relaxed about it.”
Trent laughed. “Mr. Bossy? Kell?”
“Well, he did accost me a time or two.”
“He called you Tag Artist first and then Jogger Girl. Funny how you both make up names for people. Oh, and I won’t need a hot shower again. I can manage with cold water if Mr. Bossy can. Now you’ll earn a couple of hours help from me whenever you want, which is a better deal for you.” With a pleased smile on his face, he left.
She rubbed the back of her neck, puzzled. A better deal for her? He was trying to help her? She ought to fall for him instantly, and why not? She liked him. He was clearly a good guy. If she had a brain, she would fall for good guys.
Then again, she doubted that she had ever really fallen in love with a man. She had seen suitable and unsuitable in her mind, and she had chosen to date the suitable until that really hadn’t worked for her. The suitable guys saw other women as more suitable than she, except for Grayson, whom she suited right down the ground, being too gullible to see past his charm. She couldn’t say all men were rats, but she could say she was no judge of character. She seemed to be attracted only to men who would let her down.
“Hobo. Excuse me interrupting your sleep, but why did you insist on snuggling up to Kell? Does he lure everything female or can you sense empathy?”
Hobo’s ears twitched.
“Right, I’ll ask you when you’re in a better mood.”
Calli strode outside to a humid spring day with an overcast sky and began to dig up the small plants she didn’t plan to keep. Being canny, however, she potted most. She just might be able to pay back her generous neighbors with plants as well as advice.
* * * *
Kell eyed Trent sideways. “You smell like a rose,” he said as Trent strode into the kitchen with a satisfied expression on his face.
“There’s something to be said for a hot shower,” Trent said, his voice smug. “Lucky that Emily contacted you so early, though, because I had a chance to ask Calli, and she said yes.” He tossed his towel into the old bathroom, which would soon be demolished.
According to Calli, the room had once been a generous larder. Kell hadn’t revised his initial plan. He would use the space for the greater part of the new kitchen, and the room Calli had decided was the old butler’s pantry would remain the laundry room. Another bathroom would be built upstairs. The master bedroom would have an en suite.
“Yes to a date with you? Well, good luck,” Kell said, keeping his expression set and disinterested. “But remember, it’s not a good idea to sleep with a neighbor. However
it goes, it will always be awkward.”
Trent stared at him for a few seconds, and then he nodded. “I like her. She’s funny. Unlike you, my first thought when I see a woman isn’t connected to sex.”
“I would hope not at your age.” Kell caught the banana thrown at his head, snapped open the top, peeled off the skin, and took a bite. “I have to go to the workshop today to make the cabinet doors for the Richmond house. I’ll be there tomorrow, too. We’re behind at work, and I need to catch us up again.” He dropped the banana skin into the bin.
“I’ll carry on with clearing up, then. I’d make a start on the ceiling upstairs, but the plasterboard hasn’t arrived yet. If you think you might want to reuse any of the leadlight, I’ll see how I go with repairs.”
“If you get tired of cleaning bricks, come to the workshop. I can always use another pair of hands.”
“Thanks, Kell. I appreciate the work. You’re a good man. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Kell blinked. “No one has.” No one had but his father, of course, who in drunken rages had called all his sons worthless. A kid who hears that loud enough and often enough certainly has doubts about himself. Although his first thought when he met a woman probably was connected to his other brain, his second thought was to work out how quickly he could get away without being drawn in. Morning-after were not for him. He didn’t want to chance having his father’s words proved. As long as he could keep sex casual and relationships distant, his worth or lack of would never be discussed with him.
While he worked on his customer’s glossy, laminated kitchen, he stayed on track, concentrating on the job at hand. He liked his work. He enjoyed installing new cabinetwork and seeing his customers satisfied. Unlike the consultants at the bigger firms, he didn’t give advice on color schemes or try to palm off cheap and nasty work as something special. He simply provided whatever the customer asked for. Here and there he suggested changes, but mainly his customers had their tastes catered to.
Being his own customer in his own house, the red brick Tudor, he needed to decide exactly what he would install. No rocking of boats. Simply a couple of white bathrooms upstairs with Shaker-style cabinetry like in the kitchen he planned. Maybe pale granite countertops with the polished wood. The formal rooms, the sitting room and the dining room, needed nothing other than good carpets and well-painted walls. The place had to showcase Kell’s cabinetry and little more.
The kitchen would be his showpiece. Women cared more than men about kitchens. If their ideas wouldn’t work for one reason or another, often related to plumbing, he would tell them why, but most wanted exactly what they wanted. If he’d had more room, he would have considered Calli’s opinions about redoing the butler’s pantry and the larder, but he needed a laundry room downstairs, and he had no other space; nor any other space for informal living—unless he could incorporate the dining room, somehow. Hardly anyone wanted formal dining these days. He rubbed his forehead.
On Friday, he installed the new kitchen he had completed for his customer—an elderly woman with a tiny house and a need to give tradesmen cups of tea and little cakes. Meeting her made him wish he had a more immediate family. All he had was his two brothers and two sisters-in-law, though the tribe was growing because of Luke’s three sons. Perhaps Kell was growing soft, thinking that way. He shook the thoughts from his head. Looking at happy marriages of others wouldn’t change his mind about settling down.
During the late afternoon, he accepted an order for another new kitchen, this one larger than usual and with a butler’s pantry squeezed into one corner. Two sinks in one small space. He shook his head over the idiocy.
On Saturday morning, he arose early. Today he wanted to make sure he looked like the kind of guy who would go wine tasting, a know-it-all about the better things in life. When it came to wine, he knew red from white and there his knowledge ended. But despite her work-roughened hands, Calli was all class. He could tell by the way she talked, her porcelain white teeth, her fine expensive skin, and her neat and perfect haircut. She was a tall and healthy smart-talking woman. When she gave him sass, he wanted to lift her off her feet and swing her in the air, and when he brought her down again, he wanted to kiss her until she lost her cautious expression.
Somehow, she brought out the big kid in him, though he had possibly never even been a little kid. He had always been careful and watchful. Her candid observations made him want her in a way he had wanted no other woman before. And she had barely even glanced his way. She would be interested in men with her sort of class, a private school education, a degree or two, and parents with a swimming pool and a tennis court. He had none of those, but he would eventually have some of those. He would never have more than he could earn himself. To attract a woman like her, first he would need to tone down his naturally terse manner and relax, be more casual like Trent. Likely, he could do that.
He made sure of a good workout in the gym, and he took a long hot shower while he had the opportunity. The morning passed quickly while he completed the weekly chores, stocking up his fridge with the staples, sitting in the Laundromat reading his phone messages while waiting for his clothes to be washed. Most of the messages were related to work and none were urgent.
Finally, with more than one clean shirt to his name, he drove home, plotting how to shift Emily onto Trent. He wanted Calli to himself this afternoon.
* * * *
With only a vague idea of how to be man-bait, Calli took the time to pamper her skin. After her shower, she blow-dried her hair, which took about a minute. She even applied a light coating of makeup and a heavier coat of mascara. Long eyelashes, huh?
Not expecting to socialize while she was living in the guest cottage, she didn’t have an extensive wardrobe to choose from. Finally, she decided her black slacks would do for a day in the country, and she had a loose amber top that contrasted with the light gray of her eyes. She knew what Emily would wear. Exactly what Calli would have worn if she had all of her clothes with her. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to be stuck in heels if she had to clatter from one winery to the next. Boat shoes would do.
She squirted perfume around the bathroom and walked through the haze. Subtle, she hoped, and she grabbed her big black casual bag. She had agreed to drop in next door when she was ready. Apparently the expectation was that the guys would be waiting and she would take longer.
She trudged through the jungle next door and took the stairs to the veranda. The front door cracked open as she reached the top.
“I heard you coming,” Kell said, moving aside so she could squeeze past him into the hallway. She smelled soap on his skin, saw his dark stubble, and felt the male heat emanating from his big body.
Her eyes met his, and she knew the rest of the day wouldn’t be fun at all. For the whole time, she would not be able to have a real expression on her face or use real words when she spoke to him. Fake Calli had been hired to distract him. “It must have been the swishing of the scythe ripping through the overgrowth that gave me away.”
His mouth lifted on one corner in acknowledgement of the hit. “Hold still.”
She took a step back into the wall despite his order, her breath shorter than a healthy woman would normally expect after climbing four steps. She raised two eyebrows and stayed expressionless, despite the wild beating of her heart.
“You collected a leaf on your hair.”
Her gaze focused on the skin of his corded neck and a bolt of lust hit her in the lower region of her body so hard that she almost gasped. The pulse in her throat went into panic mode. She could think of nothing but the movement of his chest while he breathed, and his arm brushing her shoulder when his fingers reached into her hair.
He removed a tiny scrap of leaf litter, which fluttered onto the worn carpet runner. “We can’t have Trent’s date looking like she has gone through a bush backward, can we?” His breath warmed her cheek.
She managed a silent swallow. “That’s a very
flattering description of my hairdo,” she said in a ridiculously shaky voice. “Do you throw those sorts of compliments at your own dates, too?”
His eyes focused on her mouth and stayed. “You look very nice today. Clean, for a change.”
She laughed, almost glad she couldn’t phase him. Today he would simply be her newest challenge. He was used to women chasing him, and he wouldn’t turn a hair even if she propositioned him, which she didn’t plan to do. Only one thing was certain. She couldn’t fascinate him. “You look very nice today, too,” she said, more to take back control of the conversation than to compliment him.
If she told him that he looked so sexy in his tan cotton pants and cream cotton-knit sweater that she wanted to tear out Emily’s eyes, she might be speaking the truth but not helping her own case at all. Today she needed to keep him interested by letting him think she wasn’t, a tactic that worked best with his type, not that she knew firsthand. She had to accept Trent’s opinion and remain just a tad out of Kell’s reach. “Say that to Emily when you pick her up.”
His dark eyebrows lowered. “Do you imagine I’ve never been out on a date before?”
“Not at all,” she said politely. “I’m simply helping you get a second date. For instance, if you pushed up your sleeves this far, you would improve your chances by about fifty percent.” She took his wrist carefully and pushed the cotton knit about two inches higher. “Women love nice forearms.”
His eyes turned smoky. He didn’t move. “Don’t you think that might be a little contrived?”
“You’re right, of course. You’re the dark and dangerous, mysterious type. You need your date to be intrigued. Nice knit, by the way.”
Without acknowledging either of her comments, he turned her toward the back of the house with one hand on her hip, indicating she should walk ahead. “I’ll lock up. We’ll leave by the back. Trent is outside opening the driveway gates.”
Throbbing with anticipation, she moved smartly through the house and opened the squeaky back door. “I hope it doesn’t rain today. I didn’t bring a coat.”
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