No woman should look that good in a turtleneck, serviceable down jacket and, of all things, mukluks. With her long black hair falling in loose curls past her shoulders, her lips painted a dusky red and her dark eyebrows arched inquisitively, she was the best thing he’d seen in a damned long time. Except that she wasn’t his type. Not by a long shot.
From the classy dress pants to the perfect makeup, Sarah had good girl written all over her. Sherri Phillips, on the other hand, while not perfect, was more his style. Hearty, gutsy laugh. Easy way. Sweet. Fun. Uncomplicated. What more could a man want?
He took a deep breath and put on his game face. That’s when he noticed Sarah was carrying something bulky in her arms. “Afternoon, Sarah. Need some help with whatever you got there?”
“Hello, and no, thank you.” Despite her half smile, she didn’t look very pleased.
Most people probably figured her for the calm, serene sort, but the intensity of her pale blue eyes blew that image to hell and back as far as Jesse was concerned.
She came up the porch steps and, virtually ignoring Jesse, zeroed in on her son. “Brian, have you been coming here every day after school?”
The kid looked at Jesse, quickly calculated whether or not Jesse would back up a lie and just as quickly came to the conclusion he was on his own. Stubbornly, he straightened his shoulders. “Yeah. So?”
“We talked about this.” She stomped her boots, dislodging the snow, and then stepped inside the house, carefully unrolling an indoor-outdoor-type carpet runner in the foyer area as she went. “You’re supposed to come home after school and get your homework done.”
“I can do it after supper.”
“You’re supposed to come home to check in with me, then do homework and then play, right?”
Brian crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not a baby, Mom. I should be able to decide when I want to do my homework.”
“That’s not our deal,” she said. “Go on home now.”
“But—”
“No buts. It’s almost time for dinner. We’ll talk about this later.”
As Sarah talked with her son it was impossible to not study her. Manicured hands with deep red nail polish. Makeup so perfect he wondered if she used a magnifying glass in the application process. Not a hair out of place in those relaxed curls hanging past her shoulders. What struck him the most was the fact that she was doing her damnedest to send Jesse the message that she wasn’t interested in him as a man.
“Can Zach eat over?” Brian asked.
“Sure, but he needs to call home and make sure it’s all right with either Garrett or Erica.” She put her hands on Brian’s shoulders and pointed him toward the door. “Now go.”
Poised and classy. She probably couldn’t pound in a nail to save her soul. Not your type. Those hands had probably never seen the likes of dirt let alone a dish, so why was it he wouldn’t have minded seeing her with a hammer in her hand? A tool belt hanging around that slim waist. And nothing else. Naked as the day she was born.
Mmm, mmm, mmm. Wouldn’t that be a sight for sore eyes?
“Bye, Jesse!”
The sound of his name snapped his thoughts back to the present. “Huh? Oh. Bye, boys.”
Zach and Brian both shrugged on their coats and ran out the door, calling in unison over their shoulders, “See you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t. Homework, remember?” She turned toward him. “I hope they haven’t been getting in your way.”
“Naw.” He shook his head. “They’re nice kids.”
“Yes, they are. Mirabelle’s a nice quiet island. A lot of good people here.”
He didn’t miss the edge in her voice, but if there was one thing he’d learned in the past four years it was to not go looking for a fight. If he could avoid it, anyway.
“I’ll make sure they don’t come up here anymore,” she said. “So they won’t get in your way.”
Fine by him.
She glanced from his shirt to his hair. “Looks like you’ve been busy today.”
He brushed self-consciously at the layer of dirt and dust covering his long-sleeved black T-shirt. “Yeah, well, best to have everything out of here before all the supplies you and Garrett ordered are delivered. So I’ve basically been gutting the place.”
“Good idea.” She slipped off her boots, walked into the kitchen and turned off the radio.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s been pretty quiet around here. I found that in the basement. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not a problem.” Slowly, she walked through the house, glancing around, seeming to take note of his progress.
He struggled for something to say. Put him in a bar with someone like Sherri and he could talk up a blue streak, but this woman made him uneasy. He might be drawn to her, but he was uneasy all the same.
“So…Garrett said you needed to be all moved in here by the end of May. Before your busy season starts,” he said, hoping to start the ball rolling. “Wedding planner, huh?”
She nodded. “I do a fair amount of business through my flower shop, as well.”
While it was crystal-clear she wasn’t interested in casual conversation, she wasn’t as immune to him as a man as she wanted him to think. Her gaze would drop to his lips or linger on his arms and chest. He ran his hand along the back of his neck, feeling more edgy with every passing moment. Best to follow her lead and stick to business.
“Things don’t seem to be moving very quickly,” she said. “I was hoping the carpet would be in by now.”
If he’d had feathers, they’d have been ruffled, especially after the week he’d had. Starting work on Sarah’s house well before sunrise and working until past dinnertime, he’d put in close to sixty hours. But then that had been entirely his choice.
After the first morning of waking up in Garrett’s house to the sounds of everyone else up and about, he’d sworn he’d never do that again. Just listening to the warm coziness of the Taylor family routine through his closed bedroom door—the smell of fresh coffee, the sounds of happy, rested kids, cereal bowls clinking and cartoons on TV—had been enough to make his skin crawl.
From then on he’d gotten up and headed off to work before anyone else had even stirred. To make sure he’d avoid Garrett’s family as much as possible, he’d been bringing a bag lunch and eating by himself at Sarah’s house. Then it was off to one of the bars downtown for a bite to eat for supper. By the time he’d been getting home, the Taylor house had settled in for the night and he’d been able to sneak back to the guest bedroom without disturbing Garrett, Erica or their kids.
Even with all those hours, Sarah’s house was a big job for one man. “Well, for one thing,” he said, trying not to sound defensive, “new carpet will likely be the last thing you’ll want to do in the house. Wouldn’t want it getting dirty, would you?”
“Good point.”
“The first thing that had to be done was to fix your leaky roof, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
“It was quite a job.” Icy wind whipping up his back, hands freezing even in the thick leather gloves Garrett had lent him, Jesse had been on a ladder shoveling snow off a large chunk of the roof that’d apparently been damaged by high winds last fall. The entire roof would need to be replaced come spring, but for the time being he’d had to patch things up to protect the interior.
There was no point in elaborating with the fact that he’d