She shook her head. “You have a dirty mind.”
“Yep.” He chuckled. “By the way, before you come out with us on Friday, make sure you tidy yourself up. You should see the dirt on your face.” He waved at her with a dramatic flourish. “Because we only play high-class gigs and this just isn’t working for me.”
When her amusement escaped in a throaty laugh, he realized it was actually working for him a little too much.
As she headed back into the house, Michael cursed himself for sounding eager. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her or played with her soft fingers. He couldn’t help it. Emily did things to him, weird and wonderful things. She made him curious, and in a short space of time, she’d caused him to worry.
If he possessed an iota of intelligence and sensibility, he’d play it cool. If he wanted any sort of chance with her, he wouldn’t push her right now. She needed time to get over Trent. She’d only just tumbled out of his bed and wasn’t likely to leap straight into Michael’s. He saw the reticence in her gaze, but he also spied a curiosity that matched his own. If he played his cards right, he’d convince the pretty kitten she didn’t need to hide in her carrier. He needed to be patient.
Unfortunately, patience was never his strong point.
***
“Michael,” called Lacey as he loaded up his pickup truck with his tools on Friday evening. “Hang on a second.”
He tossed his backpack onto the passenger seat and gritted his teeth. Private conversations with Lacey always set him on edge now, especially now that she insisted on flaunting her new boy toy Jacob. Every time Michael turned his head, it seemed the two of them were there. Lacey made a show of caressing Jacob’s arm or kissing him and the kid lapped it up. Any red-blooded man with eyes would.
He knew it was all for his benefit. Perhaps Lacey felt something for Jacob but Michael couldn’t shake the sensation the love affair had been fabricated to make him jealous. It wasn’t working. If anything, he hated the fact the director thought nothing of exploiting the intern.
“What can I do for you, Lacey?”
Now that she wasn’t playing starry-eyed ingénue, she seemed unwilling to speak. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. “I, um…”
“If this can wait, that would be great. We’re playing the Bamboo Gigolo tonight and I still have to tackle traffic.”
“Ah, right. The Zorn Brothers Band. I used to love watching you guys play.”
“No, you didn’t. You were bored out of your skull every time you attended one of our gigs.”
“What can I say? I’m more a lover of modern music, rather than…”
“I believe you called it ‘covers of old fogeys.’”
Her lips compressed into a tight grin. “Just not my cup of tea, I guess. Listen, I’ve had some news from Inspiration and I wanted to tell you about it first.”
“Why me?”
She hesitated.
“Just spit it out, Lacey. I’m a big boy. Have they canned me? Have they finally decided we’re not sexy enough?”
“No, of course not. They love you. They also love your story.”
“I don’t have a story.”
“Yes, you do.” Her blue eyes darkened. “They’ve been in contact with some of the parents whose children attended Jane Ashton’s daycare. They want to involve those families in an upcoming show.”
“Say that again. I think I heard you wrong.”
“You didn’t. The Inspiration Network would like to focus on your shared experience with these families.”
“Ourshared experiencehas nothing to do with home renovation.”
“Consider it a departure from our regular format. A special episode, if you will, dedicated to you and the children you saved.”
“What the hell?” The throb at the back of Michael’s head exploded into shards of fresh pain. He shook his head, not liking where this conversation was headed. “Why?”
“Why not? Michael, it’s compelling. You rescued those children. It would make riveting TV. The producers want you to share your side of the story, you know, leaving out the gory bits, of course.”
