Page 54 of The Fixer

She glowered at him. “Princess? Do you always use terms of endearment for your clients?”

He puffed out an exasperated breath. “No, sorry about that. You’re the rare client who brings it out in me. Did you hear anything I said after ‘princess,’ or do I need to repeat it?”

“Of course I did,” she snapped.

They both cinched their arms over their chests and played a game of chicken to see who would blink first. Charlie did, and Joy felt a little wave of triumph … until one corner of his mouth curled up. He reminded her of the cat that got the cream. What was he up to?

He pushed away from the table. “C’mon. Let’s walk the job.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ll go room to room and go over each scenario, along with what’s feasible and what isn’t. It helps to visualize the fix-up when you’re staring at the space.”

“Oh, all right,” she groused.

“Let’s start with the kitchen since we’re standing in it.” He painted a picture as he panned around the room. Soon she was nodding along. She liked what he made her see, though she didn’t care to admit it. She also liked standing next to him—a little too much—where she could pull in his sandalwoodsy smell and feel the heat rising off his body.

“Store’s next.” They moved into that area, and again, he opened her eyes to a fresh perspective.

He pulled her back into the apartment and pointed out walls they could take down to bring in more natural light.

“We can also add a window in here.” He twisted the knob to her bedroom. The door squeaked on its hinges. Her eyes darted to the bed, and horror gripped her. The book sat in the middle of the bed, cover up. His eyes moved there too, and he broke out in a smirk. She could feel heat blaze over her cheekbones.

“Nice reading material,” he murmured.

“Don’t be so judgy,” she snipped. “It’s not mine anyway. I found it in my mother’s shop.”

He looked down at her, and if she read his expression correctly, the words “Sure you did” danced on the tip of his tongue.

She parked her fists on her hips and peered up at him. “Does it look familiar?”

The creases between his eyebrows deepened. “No. Should it? It’s not exactly my jam.” His gaze gave away nothing as he gave the book a cursory glance.

“Never mind.” Maybe itwasn’thim. Either way, she’d just made a spectacular fool out of herself. Fortunately, he moved them through the awkward moment when he launched into the room’s potential.

When they’d completed the tour, they sat back down in the kitchen. He stretched a long leg under the table. “Well?”

“I see where you’re coming from, I do, but that’s a lot of money. It’s risky.”

“Then let’s talk about removing some of that risk so you’re more comfortable. How about you cover the materials, and I take care of the labor costs for my crew? Like you, I won’t get paid until it’s sold.”

She wagged her head back and forth. “Maybe. How are you going to protect me if Bruno and his buddy Carl decide to pull the crap on me they pulled on your brother?”

“I have a few more friends in the building department than those two clowns do—Bea’s current state of pissed-offness aside—and I won’t hesitate to use those connections if they decide to play games with this project.”

“So you’ve got my back?” The word choice unfortunately conjured an image of his solid chest against her back—the chest on the book cover. They were naked, and he had her pinned against a tile wall, hot water sluicing over their bodies. His hand played between—

“I’ve got your back.”Oh God, yes, you so have my back.His gray-green eyes drilled into hers. Was he simply communicating the conviction of his words? Or was he seeing the dirty picture playing out on her mind’s movie screen?

Heat raced up her neck. Blushing was becoming a common occurrence around this guy. She yanked her fingers through her hair. “Right, um, goodto know.” She rocked forward, shaking off the remnants of the vision. “All right. You talked me into it. When do you start?”

“I’ll be here at daylight tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?”

“Okay. Seven, then. I just figured since you’re on Chicago time … There’s a lot to do, and we don’t want to waste the daylight. That work for you?”

“Can’t you wait until I’m gone?” Her voice pitched high, sounding screechy even to her own ears.

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