Page 34 of Under Daddy's Spell

Um...er...her tools, rather.

The temperature had dropped at least two degrees by the time she locked up and headed home. She could imagine how pleasantly surprised her employees would be when they arrived in the morning wearing lightweight, sleeveless clothes in anticipation of another shift in the sauna. ?

Chapter Twelve

AFTER THE LUNCH CROWDcame and went, Tessa relieved Martha at the register. Like her, the older woman wore a lightweight sweater because the store was actually a bit nippy.

A day of coolness and business-as-usual had Tessa in an excellent mood. She was laughing for the first time in days but likely would have anyway as she rang up her longtime customer, Oma Sullivan, an octogenarian with a voracious appetite for trashy romances. What they called bodice rippers in the Fabio days, according to the blue-haired Southern lady.

Tessa was holding the door for her to exit with her bags of books when Jordan appeared. He politely offered to help the older woman to her car. When she declined, calling him a dear, sweet boy for offering, Tessa had to agree because it was a kind gesture few people would make. What she’d done two days prior was nothing of the sort and sparked a twinge of regret inside her.

Once Mrs. Sullivan exited, Jordan strode inside. Without a word to her, he stood in the middle of her shop, glancing around. When she noticed the line of perspiration up the back of his T-shirt, her twinge turned into a sharp pang.

With a smile she reserved for customers—polite, professional, the image of helpfulness—she asked, “May I assist you with something, Mr. Cooper?”

His blue eyes cut to her sharply, a blond brow arched in a mixture of disbelief at her audacity and a warning of the storm to come. When his gaze landed on the clock-sized thermometer behind her, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“It’s much cooler in here today. You must have gotten your air-conditioning fixed.”

It was posed as an observation, not a question, so she chose not to answer.

“Coffee?” she offered, instead. “Or a blueberry muffin, perhaps. Angie took a batch out of the oven a few minutes ago. They’re probably still warm.”

He ignored all of that and demanded, “What did you do?”

“Me?” she asked, spreading her hand over her chest as though shocked. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He looked so infuriated, and hot—both literally and figuratively—she couldn’t control the small thrill of satisfaction that welled inside her. Staying calm and collected wasn’t so easy while working in a sauna, now was it?

Despite biting the inside of her lip to contain a smile, she wasn’t entirely successful.

Of course, he noticed.

“I asked a question, Tessa,” he said in a deep, intimidating growl while slowly stalking toward her.?“Did a repair man come out?”

“I’ve left messages, but no one has returned my calls.”

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