Page 5 of The Maestro and the Roofer

She took a sip of beer, keen to make him wait. “Not yet.”

Her succinct reply pulled a snort from Dee, who cleared the empty plate and headed to the kitchen without another word. Travis took a seat on the empty barstool beside Mia, turning his body toward her, his legs wide and welcoming. It took every ounce of fortitude to not look at his crotch.

“Dee’s my godmother,” he explained. “She likes to give me a hard time.”

“I’m sure you deserve it.”

He laughed, the sound as decadent as dark chocolate. “Can’t argue with that.”

Mia trailed one finger up the length of her glass, condensation wetting her skin. “Your name’s not Robinson?” she asked, pointing to the logo on his hoodie.

“Nope. Cole Robinson was my mentor. I started working for him when I was eighteen, and he sold the company to me a few years back.”

“Why didn’t you change the name?”

“Because I learned everything I know from that man. He was like a father to me. I’m one of the sons in Robinson & Sons Roofing, whether it’s my last name or not.”

The sweet sentiment caught her by surprise. It also hinted at tension with his actual father, which piqued her interest, but she squashed the curiosity, suspecting that the more she learned about him, the more irresistible he’d become. Best to keep their discussions to surface-level topics only.

His strong throat bobbed as he gulped his beer, but she dragged her focus away before the sight hypnotized her. All for naught since she found his reflection, their eyes locking in the mirror behind the bar.

He held her gaze through the glass and asked, “What brings you to our little town?”

“Needed to get away for a while,” she hedged with a shrug.

“Vacation?”

“Something like that.”

“Odd time of year to visit. Most people summer in Daymont.”

“Maybe I’m not a summer type of girl.”

He broke the mirror connection and turned toward her, leaning closer. “Tell me what type of girl you are.”

“I don’t think you can handle that.”

“Try me,” he dared.

Flirting with a local townie wasn’t the worst way to spend a few hours, but their sparring shouldn’t have sent her into a tizzy. It wasn’t only her physical reaction that gave her pause—howher nipples tightened and her core hummed—but more so how her chest swelled with a foolish, giddy desire.

Get a hold of yourself. You’re too old to act like an infatuated schoolgirl.

“I assume you grew up here?” she asked, changing the subject.

“You assume right.”

“Other than drinking here, any suggestions to keep me busy?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things.”

As hard as she tried, Mia couldn’t suppress her laughter. It tumbled from her mouth without pretense, a pure response to his utterly shameless answer. And he knew it, too, judging from his troublemaking grin.

“That was ridiculous,” she choked out once the giggles subsided.

“Maybe. Worth it to hear you laugh, though.”

The earnestness in his voice nudged her off kilter. She’d never met a man who moved so seamlessly from rapscallion to genuine gentleman, and it was difficult to grasp his real identity. What would it be like to peel back the layers of this man? Would she like what she saw?

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