Page 20 of Nailing Studs

“Ah, the real estate agent?” I asked.

Both Dom and he seemed surprised.

“Yes, have we met?”

“No, but I got a recommendation from someone who said I should call you.”

“You want to sit down with us?” Dom asked.

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed when Logan said, “Thanks, but I’m with my group over there.” He pointed to another table where two other guys were sitting drinking milkshakes. “But I do hope to see you around sometime, Kayla,” he added, focusing his full attention on me. “She makes quite the impression, doesn’t she, Dom?” He remained standing watching me very, very carefully. So much that Dominic eyed what was going on between us like a tennis match and sat back, frowning.

“Good to see you, buddy,” Dom said, ignoring Logan’s question. It was clear Dom was telling him he was now dismissed and could go, get the hell out, leave Dom’s woman alone.

“You have a business for sale, Kayla?” Logan asked, sticking his beautiful hands in his pockets where I couldn’t see them. The action made me think of other things hiding in there. “Because I only do commercial real estate. Closed on a big deal today, actually.”

“Congrats,” I said, feeling a little deflated that he didn’t sell individual houses. “Well, if you don’t sell homes, then I guess I’ll have to keep looking.”

“Listen, I can still run some comps for you, do some research, and see what comes up. I was just passing through town, but give me your number and we’ll keep in touch.” Logan was a smooth talker, and from Dom’s now narrowed gaze, one who could weasel a woman out of any man’s arms.

Something felt tense between Logan and Dom just then. It could’ve been some normal male competition, but it was hard to tell with both of them trying to say all the right things in front of me. I gave Logan one of my old business cards from the e-zine that had my cell phone number on it.

“Life in the Big Apple?” he said, examining my card.

“My old work in New York.”

“Ah, a New York girl.” He flashed me a sexy smile. “A woman after my own heart.”

Dominic cracked his knuckles, as if to remind Logan that he could break him in two if he didn’t stop flirting with me ASAP. It snapped Logan back to his senses, and he shook both our hands again and was off. My gaze and mind went with him. What a dashing, handsome man. Mouth-wateringly sexy. My goodness.

When I turned back to Dom, the heat of his expression almost had me exploding like Mount Vesuvius. What the heck was in the water in this town to make all the men sexy as hell?

When Nathan brought out the food, Dominic flipped sides of the booth and came to sit next to me. Either he felt possessive after the Logan encounter or he just preferred sitting this way. I felt shivery with him so close. First Taylor, then Dominic, then Logan Raider, and now Dominic again. It was enough to make a girl die from swooning.

“Um, what was that about?” I asked quietly. “There was like, tensionbetween the two of you.”

“He was attracted to you.”

“And?”

“And I’m attracted to you, too. You know it. I wanted to make sure he knew it.”

“Why?” I felt breathless with him talking to me this way, with him making our silent feelings known and out in the open. “You want something from me while I’m here? Even though you know I’m not going to be staying in Fosterman, right?”

“I want something from you, yes, if it’s what you want, too. And I think you do. And as for whether you’re going to be staying, well…who knows what’s going to happen, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I started telling you about an idea Taylor and I had, before Fancy Pants arrived.”

I had to giggle. Fancy Pants! “Okay, I’m listening.”

“We know you don’t have the money for the renovations, but we still want to do it. It’s an old Victorian, and we specialize in historic buildings. We’ve always wanted to fix up Tabitha’s place, and we’d hate to see some other Joe do it instead of us.” He turned in his seat now to face me and used his hands as he explained. Clearly, he was excited about this idea. “Why don’t you let us fix the place up, with no cost to you?”

Stunned, I flailed for a response before managing to finally say, “What would you get out of this if I can’t pay you?”

“A show home. We could use your house to show potential clients the work that we can do, how good we are, instead of showing them pics of our work. I’m talking about major historic renovations, not piddley stuff like fixing a sink. So there wouldn’t be a lot of clients coming over to check out the work—just a few who’d be interested in a historic renovation. What do you think?”

Wow. This was big. And generous. Insane really. Given what they’d quoted me to fix up the house, they’d be donating not only their own time but the cost of materials, as well? To pick up more clients? Would most clients even come to another person’s home to see the work they’d done?

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