Page 62 of The Best Laid Plans

“So they pick couches that normal-size people can fit on? That must be nice.”

Internally, I rolled my eyes. And based on the look on Burke’s face, he could tell.

William glanced between us with a bemused smile.

“You’ll get used to it, William,” I told him, gesturing between me and Burke. “He has a slight prejudice against turn-of-the-century furnishings, but I plan to win him over.”

Burke snorted.

William laughed. “I’m just here to fix the house. You two do whatever you need to do behind closed doors; it’s none of my business.”

“It’s not ...” I stammered.

“Not like that,” Burke barked.

Our eyes locked and then darted away.

“We’re business partners,” Burke mumbled.

“Who live in the same house,” William said slowly.

My cheeks were flaming. “It’s ... easier.”

William held up his hands. “As long as you can pick some flooring, counters, and tile in the next week, that’s all I need to know.”

William’s directive, as it turned out, was not quite as easy as I thought. Because my business partner—whom I lived with and nothing else—did not want to come with me.

His new job, it seemed, was as unofficial supervisor of the young local crew that William had brought in for some heavy lifting.

He was sitting in a chair in front of the carriage house pretending to read. That was my first clue he was spying.

I snapped my fingers in his face when he didn’t respond. “Burke.”

He grunted. “I’m reading. Can’t you see the book?”

“If you were actually reading, you’d be out by the water, not up here where a million people keep walking back and forth.” I paused. “Plus, you haven’t turned a page in, like, ten minutes.”

His dark eyes lazily slid from the book in question up to mine. One eyebrow arched, and I felt a corresponding tug behind my navel.

“Someone’s watching closely.”

“You’re being obnoxious.”

One of the kids, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, walked past the carriage house to get something out of his car. He eyed Burke with a mixture of trepidation and awe.

I gave him a friendly smile, and he tripped over a rock.

Burke snorted. “They’re not intimidated by me. It’syouwho’s distracting them.”

I glanced down. “Me? I doubt it.”

He gave me a mild eye roll. “Don’t play dumb; you’re far too smart for that.”

I was wearing soft cotton shorts and an oversize T-shirt that hung well past my ass. It swamped my upper body, which was what I loved about it. “How am I distracting them?”

“By being female and having the appropriate female parts,” he said.

“That’s all it takes? Gawd, I wasted so much time in my teen years trying to get attention.”

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