Michele Dunaway - Sweeping The Bride Away

Besides, she’d never believe his truck cost almost as much as a Corvette.

So, instead he had borrowed Frank’s truck, and of course, the forty-year-old Frank had been only too happy to exchange his work truck for Blade’s new BMW convertible, which, too, had cost a few hundred less than Blade’s truck.

“I’ll even take the wife on a date,” Frank had said with a grin. “I’ll tell her I sold the truck. It’ll pay her back for my license plate.”

Blade had laughed. Everyone knew Frank’s wife was a practical joker, and she’d gotten him the plate as a gag gift for his fortieth birthday.

Blade snapped to attention as Cassidy began talking. “This is the first predication,” she said as she came to the front steps. “He said something about needing some new boards, plus he wanted the entire front porch painted.”

“I saw that on the fax you sent,” Blade said. He reached into the pocket of his pants. “I brought it with me.”

Cassidy’s lips thinned into a slight smile. “You’re so efficient.”

“That would be me,” he replied, ignoring her slight sarcasm. Heck, he’d be a mite upset if someone had just pulled this surprise on him. However, he rationalized, he was going to fix her house, so in the end that made it all okay. And despite how pretty she was, he wasn’t going to hit on her the way she obviously thought he was.

His gaze scanned the porch. She did need a few new boards, but nothing really major. “Why don’t you show me the rest?”

“Front door needs painting,” Cassidy said as they walked through it. “All the windows need to have working sashes. Something about the springs being broken. When the city inspector lifted the one in the bay window, the whole window fell out.”

Blade nodded. “That’s not difficult. I know where to get the parts.”

“Good.” And with that, Cassidy was on a roll. Twenty minutes later Blade was certain of two things. One was that the city inspector had been overzealous in citing things that he really didn’t need to have cited. The other was that Cassidy Clayton had grown up with every possible advantage in life.

His bedroom, which he’d shared with his two older brothers, would have fit in the master bedroom closet. The master bathroom of the house, which needed all new plumbing fixtures, was bigger than the living room and kitchen where he’d grown up.

Sure he had a house about the same size now, but he’d worked and sweated for every brick. Cassidy had simply been born into it.

“That’s all of them,” she said. “Think you can have all this work done in a week?”

Blade stared at her. She’d pushed her hair behind her ears and was peering earnestly up at him. Darn, but she was pretty.

“I’m going to have to work nights to get these all finished,” he said. Where those words had come from, he would later decide that he didn’t know. They’d just slipped out. He was the boss. He could do what he wanted, and he could work days.

“You want time and a half?” She seemed shocked.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, trying to backtrack. “Jake gave you our bid already for all hours worked. No matter what time of day, fixed hourly rate. You only have about twenty hours of work.”

“So what’s the catch?”

Was there a catch? He thought about it a second and dismissed what Jake wanted him to do out of his head. “No catch. It’ll take me about four days of about five hours each. I’ll get here at four and leave by nine.”

She frowned. “Look,” he said, “That’s the best I can do. I’ve got other jobs in the queue, as well, and somehow I’m going to have to balance everything. So I won’t get here until four. But I will get your predications done and have them done before your deadline.”

The thought of him in her house at night seemed so… “I sometimes have to work at night,” Cassidy said, pushing thoughts of Blade in her house at night out of her mind. That was not a path she should tread. He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to explain, and she felt the need to. “I’m an image consultant, and depending on the day I attend dinner functions and…”

Suddenly he didn’t want to hear about her social life. He cut her off. “If you aren’t here to let me in, then I’ll need a key and your alarm code.”

He almost wanted to laugh at her horrified reaction. “We are licensed and bonded, ma’am.”

“Cassidy,” she corrected automatically. She hated being called ma’am. It made her feel old.

“Cassidy.” He rolled her name on his tongue and decided that he liked it. “Well, Cassidy, since I’m here, shall I get started?”

Her mouth puckered. “You’re starting the job tonight?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Is there a problem with that? I’m already here, and I need to make a list of stuff I need. Plus, you don’t have time to spare.”

He was right.

Cassidy gulped and tore her gaze off Blade’s chest. Last night Sara had said something about stroking it and discovering if his chest was smooth or covered with dark whirls of hair.

If he took off his shirt when he worked in the Texas heat she’d know.

Whoa! Wait right there. Those were not thoughts she should have. Think of Dan, think of Dan.

Oh, God. Dan. He’d be over in less than an hour to take her out to dinner. He had some clients to impress. That meant she needed a shower, and she needed to redo her makeup and…Then again, she also needed to have her predications fixed. What was it Blade had asked?

Normally she wasn’t so scatterbrained. Maybe it was the stress of everything. Her parents had dumped the selling of the family home and moving the few belongings they wanted to keep into her lap.

“No problem,” she said after finally remembering his question about whether he should get started tonight. “Just stay on the first floor.”

The last thing she needed was for him to be in her bedroom. Thankfully that had been one room that hadn’t needed any repairs.

“I’ll try,” Blade replied, his gaze sweeping over her.

“See that you do,” she said, suddenly feeling the need for a long, cold shower. She now knew the truth. She couldn’t blame her physical reaction to him on beer.

Turning, she disappeared up the stairs. She had the distinct impression that he stared at her legs the whole time.

As Cassidy walked away, Blade let himself take a long look at her legs as she walked upstairs. Nice and slender. He liked that. A lot.

Too bad he couldn’t let himself really like her. Liking Cassidy would be a mistake. She was engaged, and he, unlike Jake, didn’t tread on another man’s domain.

But he could look. That was acceptable, no harm done, and it could be his job perk.

Jake could get Lillian as the job perk. That would serve him right.

Humming to himself, Blade began an inventory of what materials he would need in order to do the work. About a half hour later he looked at the long list he’d made and compared it with the city inspector’s predications. He frowned. He’d missed something.

Blade shook his head as he realized what it was. How had he missed something so obvious? He needed ground-fault interrupters for one of the guest bathrooms upstairs.

He thought for a moment, trying to remember how the house had been wired. Newer homes often had one GFI circuit breaker that had all the outlets wired to it. Older homes often had individual circuits and each receptacle needed a GFI.

He strode toward the back staircase. He’d just have to go test them and see. It would only take a second.

Blade paused on the upstairs landing, but he wasn’t interested in the original Monet hanging on the wall. Instead, it was the muffled sound of water that had caught his attention. Cassidy was in the shower.

He stood there a moment, unable to stop from visualizing the rushing water streaming down her back, over her breasts and down her legs. He shook himself. That job perk vision was off-limits. He moved down the hall and into a spare bedroom. This had to be the right one. He’d just check the outlet and be on his way….

He paused, stricken, remembering that Virginia Woolf line, “People shouldn’t have looking glasses in their houses.”

For it was true.

For there, reflected in the mirror, he could see Cassidy, clear as day, through the shower door.

God, she was gorgeous. The steam hadn’t yet covered the see-through glass, giving him a perfect glimpse of her high, firm breasts. And her legs…his mouth dried as she worked a mesh sponge over her body. His earlier fantasy about her legs had been nothing compared to the reality.

The reality was much better.

He stood, transfixed, as if someone had frozen him in time. Her voice drifted into his consciousness. She was singing some old Madonna tune about being a virgin touched for the very first time.

He attempted to move his feet. He wasn’t a Peeping Tom. He didn’t look on unknowing women, especially engaged ones. His feet refused to budge.

Another part of his anatomy was refusing to follow directions, as well, and Blade swallowed a groan. He had to admit the truth.

Despite himself, he wanted this woman.

Damn it, man! A voice cut into his brain, overriding the desire paralyzing him. You know better than this! First off she’s engaged, and most important, she’s not your type.

The sound of Cassidy turning off the water jolted him to action. He fled before she could see him.

Quickly he headed down the back stairs. The GFIs could wait until tomorrow. He’d just bring a half dozen and be on the safe side.

He could replace all of them if need be. He jerked a hand through his chestnut-brown hair. Why hadn’t she been using the master bathroom? After all, she was alone in the house.

Dumb mistake, Blade, dumb. He strode through the kitchen so fast that he almost didn’t see the smaller man standing in front of him.

“Hey.”

“Sorry.” Blade checked his movements in order to stop from body slamming the man by accident.

“Who are you?” The man looked surprised, and he drew himself up. At five foot eight he failed to dwarf or intimidate Blade’s six-foot-six-inch frame.

“Contractor,” Blade said, irritated with the question and the man’s obvious ease in Cassidy’s kitchen. So this was the beloved fiancé.

The man brushed a piece of lint from his perfectly tailored suit. “Contractor? Cassidy hired a contractor?”

Did the man not know what his fiancée did? “She did. Can’t you tell by the whites and the tool belt?”

The man frowned, as if trying to remember something. Finally he spoke. “Why does Cassidy need a contractor?”

Blade wondered if the man was dense. Maybe he should have body slammed him, but he doubted that would have knocked any sense into him. Besides, didn’t people in love share everything? Have discussions?

Then again, it had always been one-sided between him and Clara. He’d never really shared anything with her, and he’d almost married her, which would have been totally unfair. She was now blissfully happy with someone else.

“Cassidy needs a contractor to fix her home predications, the violations the inspector cited.”

“Predications.” The fiancé mulled that over for a moment. “I guess she did tell me about that.”

For a moment Blade felt sorry for Cassidy, especially if this was her ideal man. “I’m starting work today, Mr….” He paused to let the fiancé fill in the blank.

The man blinked, and Blade wondered if his mind really was a million miles away. “Oh, yes. I’m Dan. Dan Morris. I’m Cassidy’s fiancé. I live next door.”