Page 70 of Under Daddy's Spell

It wasn’t enough for Tessa, whose hands fisted in his T-shirt. While she rose on her toes, she pulled him down and gave him a proper goodbye.

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” he said, grinning down at her when she dropped to flat-footed. “See you after work, baby. If not before.”

“Have a good day,” she softly called.

She watched him as he made his way to the door, at least three men stopping him for a brief chat, all calling him Coop as if they’d known him forever.

***

THE AFTERNOON LULLhit at the same time Mr. Olson from Soundproofing Solutions arrived to complete his estimate.She watched as he measured the wall from every angle with an electronic tape measure then made notes on his clipboard. She approached when he started tapping on the screen with one finger, calculating the cost.

“What’s the damage?”

He peered at her over his reading glasses. “I’m waiting for a price on materials, but it’s going to come in right around 8K, give or take.”

“K as in thousands?”

The man bristled visibly and went on the defensive. “It’s a labor-intense job, ma’am. We can shave a little off if you move the books and shelving yourself. And, instead of decoupling the existing wall, adding soundproofing foam, and a double layer of drywall with green glue, which is what I’d recommend, we could install a second wall over the old one, but you’d lose space.”

It could be lined with spun gold for all it mattered. She didn’t have eight thousand dollars to spend on a wall. “How much for the cheaper option with me moving the books?”

He shrugged. “I’ll figure it both ways, but I don’t think you’ll shave off a lot. Material costs are high right now.”

“Send the estimate to me.”

Tessa’s head jerked around to find Jordan with his arms folded over his chest, one ankle crossed in front of the other as he casually leaned a shoulder against the end cap of the aisle behind them. He straightened to pull his wallet from his back pocket and extended a business card to Mr. Olson.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Long enough.”

The contractor, apparently glad to have someone without ovaries to deal with, ripped off a sheet from the pad he’d been scribbling on and passed it to Jordan. “Here’s what I’m looking at.”

He perused it for a moment. “You’ll understand if we get another estimate for comparison.”

“Sure, Coop. But if you go with me, I’ll discount it 15 percent. I would have said thirty-four, but that’s a little too steep for a small business like mine.” After tucking Jordan’s card into the pocket of his shirt, Mr. Olson pumped his hand enthusiastically then strode out smiling.

Tessa stared after him in confusion, a common state for her since the mysterious and maddening Coop moved in next door.

“How did he know your name?”

The half-smile appeared before he reminded her, “I gave him my card.”

“Right.” Heat flooded her face. What a stupid question. “It was nice of him to offer a discount. But what was that about thirty-four?”

“I’m heading out, Tessa,” Angie called from the end of the aisle. “Hey, Coop,” she said to Jordan, like everyone else.

“Angie.”

“See you tomorrow,” Tessa told her friend. When she disappeared and the bell over the front door sounded, she recalled what they were talking about. Tipping her face up to his, she insisted, “You’re not paying for soundproofing my store.”

“It’s construction to reduce the noise coming from my gym. So, why not?”

She thought about that for less than a second. “You’re right. Mr. Thompson should be the one footing the bill for improvements to his property to keep his clients happy. Since I don’t see that happening—ever—we should split the cost.”

“That’s mighty neighborly of you.” Smiling, he moved closer.

“That’s because I’m the neighborly type.”

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