ANDRECAMEDOWNthe ladder just as Tamara brought out a tray with sandwiches and bottles of juice. She’d changed out of the pajamas she’d had on when he’d knocked on the door. Pajamas that may not have been designed to be sexy but on her had made him forget for several seconds the reason he’d come by her house in the first place. Between trying not to ogle her bare legs, which looked so damn soft, and feeling foolish for showing up on her doorstep first thing in the morning like an overly eager suitor, he was surprised he’d made any sense. The blue leggings that clung to her hips, thighs and ass and the loose long-sleeved white T-shirt she’d changed into were having a similar effect on his brain.
If she’d known he’d spent the hours since they parted thinking about her, she’d think he was foolish. But that was exactly what he’d done. He’d replayed every word of their quick conversation and puzzled over the attraction he couldn’t shake. He’d used the excuse of needing to fix things as the reason he was there—he really couldn’t stand to see sheathing exposed to the weather. But that was only part of the reason he’d shown up. He hadn’t been able to relax knowing the sheathing onTamara’shouse was exposed. He hadn’t wanted more damage toherhouse. Not only that, but the thought of getting a genuine smile from her lips had him up and in the shower at six that morning.
He was going down a dangerous path. Getting involved with Tamara wasn’t smart on a few levels. First, she ran the department overseeing his construction project. He played fair and didn’t like to give any indication that he had to rely on hookups or gaming the system to get what he earned. Second, Tamara wasn’t the kind of woman you played around with. She probably wanted flowers, romance and long-term commitment. While he understood the perks of having a long-term lover, he also wasn’t sure he was capable of settling down. What if he turned out to be just like his dad? A few weeks of fun was what he stuck with. Something didn’t feel right about doing that with Tamara. He admitted he’d been an asshole when they were in high school, but he wasn’t the angry kid he used to be who had been controlled by his emotions. Now he could control them. If he tried to holla at Tamara, he’d have to show her that he’d changed and come correct.
“You hungry?” Tamara asked when he strolled over to where she stood on her back deck.
His stomach growled before he could answer. The corners of her lips lifted and her eyes sparkled. “I guess that’s a yes.”
“I had coffee this morning.”
“You know coffee isn’t food.” She twisted open one of the bottles of juice and handed it to him.
“It’s a form of sustenance.” He took the juice from her and drank half of the bottle.
“I agree, but food also helps. I had some leftover chicken salad I made the other night. Figured a few sandwiches would work for breakfast.”
“You like chicken salad for breakfast?” He accepted the half of a sandwich she handed to him.
“I’m terrible at making breakfast. Probably because I don’t like making it. Most of the time I eat whatever is in the fridge.”
“So I shouldn’t expect pancakes, grits, bacon and eggs from you in the mornings?”
Damn, why did he say that? Now he was flirting. He hadn’t meant to do that, but an easy camaraderie fell between them as if they’d never stopped being cool with each other. Reminding him why he’d thought she was a cool girl before he’d cut her out of his life.
“You’ll get leftovers from the night before, which will probably be on a sandwich, and if I’m feeling fancy, I’ll toast the bread,” she said with a teasing grin.
Her brain obviously had not picked up on his flirting. She hadn’t reacted to any of his attempts at flirting. Not that he blamed her. She remembered the immature kid he’d been in high school. He wanted her to get to know Andre the man.
He chuckled and watched her as she jogged down the stairs to get a better look at the work on the side of her house. Her loose T-shirt slid off one shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of a black bra strap. Her hair was hidden beneath a colorful scarf she’d tied around her head. There was nothing about her outfit that screamed sexy or eat your heart out, yet Andre couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her curves in her leggings, the smooth brown skin of her neck and shoulder. He wanted to peel back the layers and get a better look at what lay beneath.
“You’re almost done.” Surprise filled her voice.
He followed her off the deck and looked up at the house. “Shouldn’t take me but about another hour.”
She put a hand over her eyes and frowned at the sky. “I know you said this afternoon, but it looks like it’s about to storm soon. Maybe you should call it quits now.”
He’d noticed the clouds rolling in. The meteorologists appeared to be off the point for the next storm by several hours. Still, he refused to leave when he was almost finished.
“Nah, I’ll be done before the rain comes in.”
“Are you sure? What if it starts to thunder? I don’t want you to get struck by lightning.”
“I’m not going to get struck by lightning. Believe me, I’ll be off that ladder if I hear anything remotely like thunder.” He took a bite of the sandwich. The chicken salad was delicious.
“You sure?”
He swallowed and nodded. “Very.”
She eyed the sky, then looked at him again. She placed her hand on his arm. “Okay, but be careful. I’d hate for something to happen to you.”
Her touch and words caused an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. No, not discomfort. That was straight-up awareness. He didn’t like the feeling. Especially when he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with the feeling. They’d been friends as kids. Then he’d pushed her out and they’d become adversaries. Years passed, and now he was back. He didn’t want to be her enemy, but damn, could he be just a friend when he was this attracted to her?
He stepped aside and her fingers trailed down his arm as her hand fell away. He felt the brush throughout his body. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll be done before you know it.”
He shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and went back to the ladder. He grabbed a piece of siding off the ground near the base of the ladder, slung it over his shoulder and climbed up. Tamara’s gaze pressed into his back. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he caught her eye for the barest second before turning away to line up the piece of vinyl siding with the bare spot on the wall. In that moment he saw the concern in her gaze. The worry. Theplease don’t hurt yourselflook. A look he couldn’t remember the last time someone had wasted on him. A look that heightened the awareness growing in his chest.
CHAPTER FOUR
