“My free time is limited,” he continued. “But I also do some construction on the weekends.”
My mouth twitched. Every muscle sculpted by the water. Defined and roughened by hard labor.
He was trying to break me. Between gentleman, swimmer, and construction worker, he was hitting triggers I hadn’t even known I’d had.
“Construction for what?” Lucy asked.
“Right now, Arnaud and I are flipping a house in Evanston—but I don’t need an outfit for that.” He winked at her. “I just wear an old t-shirt and jeans.”
A house flashed across my vision—the magnificent teardown disturbing the perfect neighborhood in which Bill saw us living. Would David have called the house appalling as our relator had?
No. He wouldn’t. He’d even told me as much.
You have to get your hands dirty to unearth the good parts. That’s work I love to do.
I swallowed down the flush of excitement working its way up my neck and stared hard at the clipboard so David wouldn’t notice. Or, more importantly, soLucywouldn’t.
“Do you need, um, new t-shirts?” I asked, scanning the form in front of me. That question wasn’t on it, but I couldn’t think of anything other than trying to hide my reaction to David. “Or swim trunks? For—for swimming?”
“I’m all set, thanks.” A smirk twisted his mouth. “You can put me down for new undergarments, though. Will you make a note of that?”
I raised a scolding brow at him. He thought just because we weren’t alone as I’d mandated, we could play?
Game on.
“Boxers? Briefs?” I asked.
“I’m not picky. Why don’t you mark down whatyouprefer?” he said.
Lucy glanced up as he continued.
“How about you, Miss Germaine? Anythingyouneed?”
“Mrs. Germaine—and I’m good,” I said, losing the battle against my blushing skin. “Bill has great taste in that department.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows at me, and I lowered my gaze, pretending to make notes.
“Ah,” David said, his tone lightening. “You know what, there actuallyissomething I could use. Shoes. Size fourteen. And a half.” His sincere expression didn’t hide the gleam in his eyes. “They’re hard to find, so don’t forget to write that down.”
Fourteen-and-a-half? That was . . . unheard of. Sometimes even Bill, a twelve, proved hard to shop for. And if David’s shoe size was any indicator of the rest of him . . .
It took me a second to realize I’d dropped my pen.
I could’ve sworn Lucy sneaked a peek just north of where she was crouched.
“Well.” Lucy cleared her throat and stood. “This tux is better, but I still need to let out the pant hem a bit. Your legs are so long! Take these off while I go see if our seamstress is still here.”
She left the room. David turned from the mirror and walked toward me, swiping an apple from the tray on his way. “Do you really think it’s wise to go drinking wine in strangers’ apartments?”
“I thought you knew Brian.”
He stopped a foot from me, tossing and catching the apple in the air. “He’s a stranger to you.”
“Is he a bad guy?”
“No, but that’s not the point.” David ran his free hand over his face and exhaled loudly. “And inthatdress?”
I looked good today, and I knew it, but Brian had only remarked on how well my high cheekbones would photograph.
