Barbara Dunlop - From Temptation To Twins

“I can’t stop staring at him,” Melissa said.

“I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type.”

The men Melissa had dated in college had been mostly preppy intellectuals, sometimes even poets. Occasionally, she’d talked about seeing an athlete. There was one basketball player she’d stayed with for a couple of months.

“Hot and sexy? Whose type is that not?”

Jules smiled, taking another look at Noah through her safety glasses. “So you mean as eye candy.”

Personally, she found him a bit dusty for eye candy. But if Melissa found him entertaining while she took on the drudge work of renovating, Jules was happy for her.

“Don’t let him slow you down,” Jules said.

“I can look and rip trim at the same time.”

“Make sure you don’t stab yourself with a nail.”

“They’re finishing nails, teeny-tiny finishing nails. Do you think if it gets hot enough he’ll consider taking off his shirt?”

“I think if you ask him we get sued. Sexual harassment goes both ways, you know.”

“I won’t ask him, at least, not flat out.”

“You can’t ask him at all. You can’t even hint.”

“I can hope.”

“I suppose there’s no such thing as the mind police,” Jules said.

Melissa grinned. “That’s a good thing. Because what I’m imagining is probably illegal in most states.”

“Please don’t tell me.”

“You’re such a prude.”

Jules scrunched her eyes shut, not allowing any untoward mental pictures to form. “Pink fuzzy bunnies. Pink fuzzy bunnies,” she chanted out loud, bringing the harmless image into her mind.

Melissa laughed at her antics.

“I obviously missed something.” This time it was Caleb.

Jules popped open her eyes to find him standing in the doorway again.

Talk about hot and sexy. He wore blue jeans, an open-collar white shirt and a midnight blue blazer. He looked casual and classy all at the same time, putting the rest of the male world to shame.

“Pink fuzzy bunnies?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Inside joke,” Melissa said. “It’s our mantra to keep nasty images at bay.”

Caleb glanced around. “Is there something nasty?”

“Not at all,” Melissa said, her blue eyes flashing mischief before she looked out the window again.

Jules told herself to stop ogling Caleb. “Can we help you with something?”

“I’ve been doing some research on your project,” he said as he stepped inside.

She adjusted her gloves and went determinedly back to working on the varnish removal with a paint scraper. “You’re just the Energizer Bunny, aren’t you?”

He kept moving toward her. “You’ve obviously got a rabbit theme going here.”

“Stay back,” she warned. “This stuff is dangerous.”

He stopped but frowned. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.” She dug the blade into the tacky solution and scraped it off in a layer.

“Have you done this before?”

“I watched a YouTube video.” She wiped away the goo with a rag and started on another strip.

“So, your answer is no.”

“My answer is ‘it’s none of your business.’”

He seemed to find her response amusing. “You’re very prickly.”

“And you’re a cocklebur.”

“A what?”

“A prickly plant. Something that digs in and sticks to you and won’t let go.”

“Oh. Okay, my mind went to a completely different place with that.”

Jules struggled not to smile. She didn’t want to encourage him. Or maybe she did. She didn’t like that he felt so free to interfere in her life, but she’d admit he was at least as entertaining for her as Noah was for Melissa.

A low clatter sounded from the window where Melissa was working. She swore.

Jules quickly glanced up. “You okay?”

Caleb was there before Melissa could answer, removing an L-shaped piece of window trim from her hands and untangling another piece from around her feet. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Melissa said. “I just got distracted for a minute.”

“Where are you putting all this?” Caleb asked.

“There’s a disposal bin in the parking lot.”

Caleb spotted a pair of work gloves in a box by the door. He helped himself and gathered up a full armload of discarded trim.

“You’re not dressed for work,” Jules felt the need to point out to him.

“Not exactly,” he agreed. “But I might as well help a bit while we talk.”

“We’re not done talking?”

He didn’t answer, just shook his head as he left through the door.

“You’re as bad as me,” Melissa said.

Jules realized she was watching Caleb’s backside as he walked away. “Is it that obvious?”

“It is when you start drooling.”

“You’re such a comedian. I’m trying to figure out what he’s doing here.”

“That’s not what your expression says. But, okay, let’s go with that. What do you suppose he’s doing here?”

“He said he’d done some research on our project.”

“What does that mean?” Melissa asked.

“I’m assuming more on why we should remove the noncompete clause.”

“That seems likely. He’s coming back.”

“I see that.”

Caleb gave Noah a curt nod of acknowledgment as he approached the restaurant doorway.

Jules found the view of him equally pleasant from the front. She didn’t have to like him to admire the breadth of his shoulders, the swing of his stride, and the square chin and neatly trimmed dark hair that made him look capable of taking on...well, anything, including her.

A wave of heat passed through her body and sweat tickled her forehead. She swiped awkwardly at her hairline with her bare forearm as he walked back inside.

He looked around the open space. “What else needs doing?”

“Your work is done,” Jules said.

He might be pleasant to watch, but she was coming to the conclusion that it might be dangerous for her to spend much time around him.

He removed his jacket and set it aside, rolling up his sleeves.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said. “You’re going to ruin that shirt.”

He shrugged. “I have other shirts.”

“It’s white.”

He glanced down at himself. “So it is.”

“Say whatever it is you came to say, and get out of here. Go back to your regularly scheduled life.”

He put a mock expression of hurt on his face. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve got your own construction project to worry about.”

“That’s the thing.”

“Here we go...” She lined up to scrape off another strip of varnish.

“I want to show you some of the numbers from my other Neo locations.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him look into their small toolbox. “Showing off your profits?” she asked.

He ignored her gibe. “And the plans for the new location.” He selected a claw hammer. “What’s your seating going to be here?”

“None of your business.”

“Jules.” There was exaggerated patience in his tone. “We’re not going to be able to work this out if you’re going to be hostile.”

Melissa spoke up. “Thirty-four at the tables, twelve at the bar and another eighteen on the deck.”

Jules glared at her.

“What?” Melissa asked. “It’s not exactly a state secret. All he has to do is pull a copy of the business license.”

“Neo will have one-seventy-two on two floors, plus fifty seasonally on the patio. We’re not your competition.” He approached the window opposite Melissa and wedged the hammer under the trim.

“I agree with that,” Jules said. “It would be no contest at all.”

“Why would anyone choose the Crab Shack?” Melissa asked.