“Pardon me, Ms. Blackwell.”
Thea spun around with her coffeepot in one hand and her travel mug in the other to address the Murdoch Construction employee tromping through the kitchen with an armful of drop-ceiling tiles.
“I told you, it’s Thea,” said as she finished pouring her coffee.
“Whatever you say, Ms. Blackwell.”
He didn’t pause on his way out the front door. Not that she expected anything different by now. The members of Aiden’s crew who’d appeared on her doorstep like magic over the past week insisted on calling her Ms. and ma’am and generally treating her like porcelain when they came and went on their various tasks. It both amused and annoyed her.
Today’s work seemed to be tossing grody carpet and stained ceiling tiles into the dumpster that had been delivered to her driveway as the first step of the renovation process. Aiden hadn’t been kidding; fitting her renovation around other jobs and his packed schedule wasn’t easy, but she was slowly seeing the house’s tacky outer layer being peeled away to reveal its lovely bones underneath.
“Hello, girlfriend,” said a warm voice behind her.
Flutters. Always flutters when Aiden was around. She took a moment to steady herself before turning to greet him. “Good morning!”
Then he shocked the hell out of her by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.
The mint of his toothpaste and spice of his aftershave filled her senses as he pressed his lips against hers, soft and unhurried, as if they exchanged sweet kisses like this every morning. When he pulled away, he was smiling, which made her heart pound even harder against her ribs.
“Ben’s outside,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do that.”
He just shrugged and grabbed a mug from the counter behind her, moving to the coffeepot. Since she’d moved in, he’d become as much a fixture in the house as her bedroom set and her grandmother’s dishes, coming and going as time permitted. It was far too easy to forget that this was all an act sometimes, particularly when he relaxed against the kitchen counter, all tall and lean in his flannel shirt over a Murdoch tee. Jokes and affectionate touches were second nature to him, and it made things feel too real sometimes. She was on a perpetual mission to remind herself that he was acting, she was acting, and this would all end.
Still, when she handed him the sugar bowl, knowing by now that he wanted his coffee sweet, their fingers brushed and his gaze traveled down her body.
“You look nice today.”
“Thanks.” Her voice came out bright and happy.Hemade her bright and happy.
She took a step back to get control of her racing pulse and brushed her hands along the front of her black swingy skirt, which she’d paired with heels and a pale yellow blouse that had ruffles marching up the front.
“It’s getting warmer, but I’m still worried about exposing this much leg. The station thermostat is usually set to arctic.” She frowned and tugged at the hem.
When she looked up, Aiden was watching her with an interested light in his eyes, but the expression disappeared when he cleared his throat.
“It’s the perfect amount of leg.” He lifted his mug to his lips. “I can’t believe you haven’t taken control of the thermostat through some kind of bloodless coup.”
“Corporate might object.” She rolled her shoulders to banish her annoyance at the faceless overlords in the Minneapolis HQ. “So anyway, when are you thinking of starting work in the kitchen?” Might as well redirect the conversation toward the reason Aiden was there.
“Right.” He set his mug down. “It’s on the revised schedule I emailed you last week. Next Friday I’ll pull the old cabinets out because the new cabinets should be delivered by then.”
“Oh yay! I’m excited to start organizing in here.” Because the whole of her house was a work in progress, she’d kept everything but the bare essentials packed away since the move-in. As fun as the progress was, it was getting tough to live out of partially unpacked boxes.
“Hope you’re okay with takeout for a while. It’s gonna get messy.”
“That’s cool.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a supermodel-ish toss of her head and said huskily, “I was born messy.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I believe it. Just give me a few more weeks now that the shag carpet is gone and the last of the drop ceiling goes today. It’ll be in such good shape you’ll be tempted to flip it for a nice little profit.”
“I wouldnever.” She dropped the vamp act and slammed her hands on her hips in outrage. “Don’t even joke! This is my homenow.”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands. “I know you’re committed. Now that it’s warming up, we’ll start working on the outside too.” He turned to the sink, where he rinsed and scrubbed his coffee mug before setting it on a dish towel to dry.
She watched him in amusement. “Sorry. My contractor hasn’t installed the new dishwasher yet.”
“God, he’s lazy. Good thing I can run my own mug under some water.” He dried his hands and watched as she pulled on her jacket. “I’ll walk you out. Protect my guys from your wrath.”
“What wrath?” As they headed down the driveway, she gave a wide berth to the dumpster blocking access to the garage. No sense risking rust stains on her blouse.
