“I suppose.”
After that, he’d cleaned out all the junk the previous owner had left in the basement, taking advantage of the Dumpster while it was available. Then he’d taken out the old toilet, sink and countertop in the main bathroom. Today, he’d pulled up all the ratty carpet.
“So what’s next on your agenda?”
“Strip all the linoleum from the floors in the bathrooms and kitchen. By tomorrow the house should be ready for new subflooring.”
“New sub—” She stopped. “Can’t you save time and money by putting new flooring over the old?”
“Sure. I could do that.” He bit back the smart-ass comment on the tip of his tongue. Was this the way it was going to be for the duration of this job? Him having to justify his every move? “But then you’ll be stuck with every single creak and groan the old place has developed through the years.” To prove his point, he crossed the master bedroom floor, setting off a round of squeaks that would’ve made anyone cringe.
“And this new…subfloor will get rid of all that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But I don’t remember that being on Garrett’s plan.”
Could he really blame her for trusting Garrett more than him? “Well, it should’ve been. I’m guessing Garrett would’ve realized you needed new subfloors as soon as he got going on things in here.”
“That may very well be.” She turned away, put her head down and crossed her arms. When she spun back around her blue eyes had turned stormy. “But from now on I’d appreciate it if you’d stick to the way Garrett had things laid out, okay? If you think you need to deviate from his plan, please run it by me first.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Uneasiness turned to outright wariness. Apparently, this fight was coming whether he wanted it or not. Might as well get it over with sooner rather than later, so they could move on to more important things, like this attraction he could feel burning up the air between them. “But then this doesn’t have anything to do with my construction abilities, does it, Sarah? You got something to say to me, why don’t you get it off your chest?”
“Another good idea.” She held his gaze. “Garrett said you just got out of prison.”
“That’s right.” Straightening his shoulders, he prepared himself for the question he knew would follow.
“I want to know why you were there,” she said. “I want to know what you did to deserve prison time.”
He turned away and ran a hand over his face. He’d hoped he’d have more time to settle in here on Mirabelle before being confronted. Suddenly, his palms turned sweaty. His heart raced. He opened his mouth to explain and the words simply were not there. How could he explain that he’d made the worst decision of his life? One minute life was dandy. Then in the blink of an eye he’d almost killed another human being.
It wasn’t happening. Not today. Not with Miss High and Mighty. “Sorry, boss.” Grinning, he turned toward her. “I’m not in the sharing mood today.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Well, that’s all I got. For the moment. See, I’m not feeling a connection yet between you and me. You know? As a matter of fact, I’m feeling kind of vulnerable.” He took a step toward her. “You want me to bare my soul, maybe you should go first. Like…I don’t know…you want to tell me about Brian’s dad?”
“Brian’s dad is none of your business.”
“See? There you go. Looks like neither one of us is in a sharing mood.”
“So that’s the way it’s going to be.” She frowned. “Then let’s get something straight between us right off the bat.”
Jesse’s spine stiffened, but he managed to plaster a grin on his face. Here it comes.
“I don’t have the slightest interest in getting to know you.” She cocked her head at him. “I’ve hired you as a favor to Garrett. That’s all there is to it. Get my house done and move on.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” He mock saluted her.
“For that matter. Don’t move on. Move off the island. For good.”
Now he was pissed. “Trust me. The minute your house is finished, I’ll be gone. I have no intention of staying on this boring, frozen hunk of rock any longer than necessary.”
“Good.” She stalked outside, shutting the front door loudly behind her.
That’s when the worst of it hit him. This was only the beginning. She was no doubt going to be on his case until this job was done. So why was it he still wanted Sarah, not Sherri or any other woman like her, in bed, under him, and calling out his name?
CHAPTER FIVE
“GOLD CALLA LILIES,” Sarah said. Her flower-shop phone on speaker, she talked to Megan, one of the more psychotic bride-to-be clients with whom she’d ever had the pleasure of working. This wedding would be the first of the season, and Sarah couldn’t wait until this one was over. “They’ll look amazing.”
“But I want white daisies,” Megan said decisively.
Normally, what the bride wanted, the bride got. Unless what she wanted might end up reflecting badly on Sarah. In this business, reputation was key, and she did her best to make sure every wedding was perfect.
“I know you want daisies, Megan, but remember your dress is classic in design. You wanted a very formal wedding.” As she talked, Sarah prepped a mixed vase of stargazer lilies, irises and Bells of Ireland—one of her favorites—for the Mirabelle Island Inn.
Although winter was the slow season on Mirabelle, the island enjoyed a steady stream of snowmobilers, cross-country skiers and snowshoers given the miles of scenic, groomed trails that crisscrossed the many acres of state park land covering more than half of the island. That meant Sarah’s shop did a small floral business over the winter providing the hotels, bed-and-breakfasts and a few other businesses on the island with freshly cut arrangements. Most of her time over the winter, though, was spent planning weddings for the upcoming summer season.
Sarah adjusted an iris stem. “White daisies may detract from the dramatic, stylish impact you’ve said you wanted.” Insisted was more like it. Over and over again. “Instead, I’d add a few sprigs of amaryllis,” she went on. “A shock of green.”
“That sounds terrible.” Megan’s voice was turning pitchy, a sure sign she was close to drawing a line in the sand.
“Remember the two-toned Leonidas roses? You fell in love with them at first sight. I’m not sure they’ll go well with daisies.”
“Then maybe the roses weren’t the best choice.”
Oh, no. If Sarah had anything to say about it, the woman was not changing her mind on the focal flower in her cluster bouquet for the fifth time.
“I still think the roses were the right decision,” Sarah said, easily keeping her voice steady and calm. “They match your color scheme and the style of your wedding, but before you decide, let me email you some pictures. I think you’ll absolutely love what you see.” She removed the pollen stamens from the open lilies with a tissue, ensuring the pollen wouldn’t drop and stain anything and everything in its path.
She’d been working on the flowers much longer than she should have, but that was par for the course. Weddings and Flowers by Sarah hadn’t gotten one of the best reputations in the Upper Midwest for no good reason. Nothing—fresh or silk arrangements, potted plants or the like—left her hands until everything was just right.
The flower shop’s front door opened, letting in a burst of cold air, and Sarah glanced up. Her best friend,