Page 41 of The Single Dad Project

God, that voice did things to her.

Things that his hands and mouth had already done to her.

“How do you know?” she asked, still gazing at the stained glass.

His footsteps fell heavy on the floor as he neared her. She forced her body to remain relaxed, but awareness had her strung tight.

“Because I recommended that it stay put,” he said. “Although to be fair, I don’t think the new owners intended to replace it. They want to preserve as much of the original structure as possible. What we’ll do—” he moved so he stood next to her and pointed toward the window “—is remove the glass and clean it, of course. Then we’ll double pane it for energy efficiency.”

He turned slightly, lowering his arm and tucking his hand into the front pocket of his dark gray pants.

“I believe the owners appreciate what they have here. They don’t want a showpiece. Yes, they bought a beautiful historic home, but that’s just what they want—a home. They do want to tailor the house to be theirs, and that’s understandable and completely their right. But still, it isn’t their intention to disturb the architectural and historical integrity.”

A shimmer of guilt rippled through her, and she lifted her camera, focused on a small crack that resembled the state of California and fired off a shot.

“I’m being a little selfish,” she confessed.

“About?”

She sighed. Why did she possess this urge totalkto him? Hadn’t it just been last night when he’d called her inexperienced and implied she was too youngagain? Whenever she allowed her guard down around this man it somehow ended up backfiring on her.

Yet...

Glancing at him, she found herself captured by his hazel gaze, and the pounding in her pulse intensified. It resonated between her legs in a hot, aching pulse. Only he could create this curious phenomenon where he irritated her, got under her skin like an itch. And at the same time he set her on fire with one look.

Forcing her feet forward, she strode toward the other bank of windows and peered out to the lawn below. At some point the grass had been mowed. Probably one of the neighbors as the TV crew wouldn’t have considered it a priority now since the landscaping wasn’t scheduled to be worked on for several weeks.

“Flo? Selfish about?” Adam pressed.

She stared down at the sidewalk, and as if an apparition of her former self shimmered and appeared, she could easily envision the girl she’d been, standing next to her pink-and-white bike.

“I used to ride past this house all the time when I was younger. I’d sit on my bike and stare up at it, imagining I lived here, and my room was right here. I wasn’t ever the princess type, but the stained glass, the resemblance to a castle, the colors... It seemed like a fairy tale sitting right here in the middle of Rose Bend. And who doesn’t want to live in a fairy tale? Even if I’d rather have been the knight than the comatose heroine.” She snorted. “Anyway, my disposable camera—and eventually first digital camera—contained many images of this house.”

“You’ve come full circle, then.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I guess I have.”

Shaking her head and feeling a little silly for admitting her childish fantasies to him of all people, she turned around and faced him. And tried not to notice that the tower room seemed smaller with his huge, wide-shouldered frame inside it.

“Is that the reason you took this job? Nostalgia?” he asked, and her shoulders stiffened.

“What was that? Ten minutes? That might be a personal best.” Narrowing her eyes, she scoffed. “Is it really so difficult to believe that I took this job not out of nepotism or on a lark, but because I truly believe I’m the best person for it? That no one could capture not just the process of the renovation but the heart of the house like I can?”

“Flo.”

“No.” Anger crackled through her, and she slapped a hand up in the air. “You’re entitled to your opinion, but I’m entitled to not have to hear it again. So if you don’t mi—”

“Be. Quiet.” His low but steely voice cut through her irritation as well as her tirade.

Her chin snapped back as shock knocked the rest of the words out of her mind. She quieted. Then she frowned. Oh, wait just a minute. Who the hell...?

Matter of fact, she should ask him.

“Are you serious?” she snapped. “Who the—”

“Can I see your camera?” he interrupted again, and surprising her,again.

“I’m sorry?” On reflex, she held her camera close to her chest.

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