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  Logan slapped Kyle on the back, and the unsettling moment passed.

  “Not so fast. You could also take the less-strenuous job of helping me upgrade the outlets.”

  “No contest. I’ll help Gwen. She asked first. Besides, she’s cuter. Speaking of which, where’s Chloe?”

  Cute? “She’s with my mom. They’re getting into a bit of a routine, but next semester, Mom has morning classes. I’m going to set up a play area for Chloe beside the counter and hope she’s a late walker. Let’s go.”

  Soon they carried boxes and bowls into the kitchen while Logan made phone calls and upgraded the outlets. Kyle carried twice as much as she could, so the work went much faster than she’d anticipated.

  The last thing to come out of her car was an oversized mixer. “How did you get this in here? Should I get Logan?”

  “Mom, Dad, and I all put it in last night. Mom nearly dropped it. Even with my discount, it wasn’t cheap, but I think we can manage. You have the height and wingspan. I have determination.”

  “Shall we?” He gestured toward the mixer as one might do when leading a partner to the dance floor. Juggling the mixer was in some ways like a dance. They carried the machine inside and set in on the closest countertop.

  She wiped the sweat from her brow. How could she get so overheated on a cool November day? She leaned against the counter. “We work well together.”

  He didn’t seem troubled by the exertion of carrying the machine. The compulsion to kiss him swelled inside her. Again? Why? Maybe it was hormonal, some kind of postpartum readjustment. It might have been gratitude, but she didn’t have the urge to kiss other people who helped her.

  Annoying, irresistible, man. Her backside pressed against the counter. Don’t break contact. Given his lukewarm reaction to her last kiss, she refused to embarrass herself again. Her frenemy, Brooke, had aggressively pursued him. Brooke got the guy years ago, but Gwen remembered his words. It hadn’t ended well.

  His apparent disinterest in anything more than friendship was enough of an excuse for her to be cautious with her feelings, but thinking about Brooke was a less painful way to keep her growing attraction to him at bay.

  Logan, with a cocky grin plastered to his face, sauntered into the kitchen. “I found flooring at half the price you listed. It’s the same color code and manufacturer but a narrower plank.”

  She squealed as she ran over and threw her arms around him. His body stiffened under the impact, but he still stumbled back a step.

  “Sorry. I got carried away. How?” She broke away, backing up to increase the distance between them to a professional level. That was more embarrassing than kissing Kyle. Maybe. Nope. She supposed she was transferring her desire to touch him onto his cousin.

  “The liquidator has a closeout on last year’s model.” Logan glanced at his cousin and back at Gwen. “Are you sure the smaller plank will be okay? It will mean more seams, and I’ll have to charge more for labor and there may be extra dust because of the additional cutting.”

  “How much more?”

  “Say twenty percent, but with the money you’ll save on materials, you’ll still come out ahead.”

  “Great.”

  “I’m going over to look at it now and make sure it’s not damaged and the color is what they claim it is. If you’ll write another check, I’ll pick it up today, so we can be ready to install it on Saturday. It’s a two-man job, but will be easier than when we tiled Grandma’s kitchen. What are you doing before game time, Kyle?”

  “Apparently, I’m installing a floor with you, so long as I can leave by four.”

  “No problem. See, Gwen, I’m saving you money already. Kyle will work for free. See you later.”

  Logan’s departure brought an awkward silence. His presence had kept her from doing foolish things, like giving in to her desires. Since there was nothing else to bring in from her car, she tried conversation.

  “So, I guess I’ll see you Saturday. Have you put in floors before?”

  “I hadn’t realized you would be supervising the floor install.”

  The curtness in his voice troubled her. When did he get so touchy? It was another reason to not push him, to not kiss him. Still, the idea of watching him work made her pulse race. He hadn’t even broken a sweat bringing everything in. She, on the other hand, was a wreck, with hair out of place and smudged with dirt and sweat. All for a good cause.

  “I’m making up several batches of cookies. I put up fliers to start selling cookies by delivery. I have one order already. Hopefully, some other students out there will want chocolate-chip cookies to help brighten their study sessions. You never complained when I brought cookies.”

  “Do I need to place an order?”

  “No. I’ll give you some on Saturday, fresh from the oven. Maybe I’ll even pour you a big glass of milk.”

  “Sounds good.” He moved closer, looking her in the eye. She hoped he would kiss her, but instead, he rested his hand on her cheek and rubbed his thumb on her temple. She gasped as his touch warmed not only her face, but every part of her body.

  “You had a dirt smudge.” He backed away and headed toward the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

  Once again, the man left her tongue-tied and confused.

  Chapter Four

  Logan and Kyle knocked on the back door of the shop to no avail. Although her car was in the lot, neither wanted to startle her by letting themselves in unannounced. Logan used the key Gwen had given him a few days ago. Kyle’s brain knew contractors often held a key, but his gut twisted. He wasn’t crazy about some other guy having a key to Gwen’s dream. Walking in, he and Logan shared a sideways glance. Gwen stood on the countertop.

  She danced on the countertop, doing some hip grinding as she strutted toward a box of candy bars on the counter. A tight, pink, short-sleeve T-shirt hugged her every curve. Over-ear headphones connected to an mp3 player tucked in an armband. Her khaki pants must have a lot of stretch in them to let her move like that. With an apron wrapped around her waist and a pair of bright pink Crocs to finish the outfit, his sexual fantasies would never be the same again.

  She bent over to pick up the box. That wasn’t right word. With one leg slid to the side, Gwen squatted down then dragged her leg in as her shoulders undulated. Her round rump lifted high in the air over newly straightened legs. Hips rolled seductively side to side as the moves played out a second time. A video vixen could learn a thing or two.

  Her hands wrapped around a box of Skor bars. In one fluid move, she lifted the box above her head, her dark ponytail bouncing to unheard music. Still shaking her hips and shoulders, she spun around and froze.

  Her entire face reddened, and her eyes grew round. She looked as mortified as he was aroused. It probably didn’t help that he was staring at her slack-jawed, and he suspected Logan wore a similarly lecherous expression.

  Gwen’s heavier-than-usual breathing offered the only soundtrack as the seconds passed. In a sudden burst, she threw the case of candy bars on the floor, straightened her clothes, and ripped off her headphones.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” She glanced at the clock, her face changing from bright red to pink to pale rose. It was seven fifteen. When he and Logan spoke last night, they’d decided to start as early as possible. Gwen must not have expected them.

  “Should I install a pole for you while I’m here? I can make a few calls and find a supplier.”

  Her cheeks turned crimson. “I…I…I….”

  Part of him wanted to save her from the misery; part of him couldn’t move, or shouldn’t.

  “I was just breaking up candy bars for my toffee-crunch cookies. A tip I read somewhere suggested dropping the frozen box from a high place.” She climbed down from the countertop, her movements restrained as she retrieved the box. Pity.

  “I wanted to finish the baking before you started. You’re early!”

  “I’ll wait all day if you’re going to put on a show like that. You might kill Mr
. Sexual Frustration over here. No worries. We will need to get set up first, but it might be hard if you distract us.”

  The insult regarding his lack of sex life hit home. Logan would pay for that remark. Dropping his toolbox to the floor, he glowered a silent warning that for once his cousin heeded.

  “I’ll get the saws ready outside. You can start opening boxes in here.” He nodded at Kyle and left the room.

  Rocking back and forth on his heels, he tried to integrate the show with the Gwen of memory. She enjoyed going out with friends and dancing, but where had those moves come from? Did she do private performances of her cooking prep wearing nothing but high heels and frilly little underwear? Hell, seeing that same move in her pink getup over and over again would be enough to please him. Logan would’ve asked the question, pushing the sexual boundaries. But he’d never commanded his cousin’s swagger.

  “So, you’re making toffee cookies. Are you making any other flavors?”

  Did she always dance like that while working? He hoped not. The idea of other guys looking at her the way he had turned his stomach.

  “I have the ovens preheating, so I can leave you and Logan with some chocolate chip and some oatmeal raisin. Maybe I’ll leave a few toffee ones, too, but I’d have to take the chocolate-chip dough as a base.”

  When he ate the toffee cookies, his thoughts would not be in a wholesome place. “Can I help?”

  She laughed a rich, throaty sound. “Aren’t you supposed to be putting in my floor? That’s more than enough help, but if you want to, wash up and you can help me pour everything in the mixer. You’re so tall that I bet you can reach it without the step stool.”

  Under her guidance, he poured several bowls of premeasured ingredients into the mixer. She wielded the machine with confidence, peering into the deep bowl and increasing the motor until she pushed back the lever in one swift move.

  “Perfect.”

  The white dough didn’t look like much and lacked a sugary smell. With a large paddle, she scooped the bowl and divided it into two Ziploc bags.

  “Aren’t you going to bake that?”

  “Not yet. I needed to make sure the mixer worked. Chloe and I have a little craft project at home with this air-dry clay. I did bring dough I mixed at home to test in the oven and leave for your snack.” She handed him one of two green-handled scoops and showed him how to get the right amount of dough. Her delicate hands belied her strength. When he tried, the amount of force required to dig into the stiff dough surprised him, yet she scooped with ease. The way her hand caressed the tool as she twisted her wrist in a circle caused a stirring in his groin.

  Women didn’t belong in the kitchen all day, every day. He wasn’t that old-fashioned, but this place suited her. Even Logan had remarked on her organization. She had good business sense, but also appeared at ease moving dough to baking sheets and then to the oven. Her movements were as graceful as when she danced. He was an ox, an unworthy invader to her feminine world.

  Logan returned, goggles in hand, as Gwen pulled the third tray from the oven.

  “Ready to run the saw?”

  Kyle glanced at her, not quite ready to leave her. He enjoyed their working conversation about everything and nothing at the same time.

  “Go ahead, unless you want to do the dishes.”

  “I’ll rinse.”

  A dish towel slapped against his arm. “You’ll slow me down. Besides, I need that floor. I can’t schedule a health-department inspection until it’s finished.”

  Her cocked eyebrow made his southern-most brain engage. Would she continue to offer the playful smiles if she knew how much he wanted her? And what about his injuries? He couldn’t tell her. She’d be repulsed or worse, those friendly looks would change to pity. His blood pounded, pooling in pain. The longer he postponed that day, the better.

  There was only one course of action. He helped Logan saw the flooring outside.

  They’d started laying out the floorboards when she interrupted them.

  “I’ll check in later tonight and see the progress, but until then, the place is all yours.”

  “Now would be the perfect time to install the pole. I should have enough woo— Ouch!”

  Kicking his cousin in the shin provided a moment of satisfaction but couldn’t block the image forming in his head. Unaware of his true intent, she rewarded him with a quick smile anyway before stomping across the floor. At the back door, she paused and faced them.

  “There are cookies on a plate and milk and cups in the refrigerator, so they should stay dust-free. But let’s be clear about one thing. If Kyle hadn’t kicked you in a timely fashion, I wouldn’t have told you about the treats.”

  “I would have sniffed them out,” Logan replied.

  “Ha!”

  Not wanting her to leave angry, he stood, moving toward the counter. “Gwen, are you coming to the game tonight?”

  “Sorry. Dad will be there, though. Good luck.”

  ***

  “I’ll be glad when this job is over.”

  His cousin’s words surprised him. They’d only began the hammering, and he was ready to quit already? Then again, Logan did the heavy lifting while he assisted making clay. Mentally, he was better prepared to help with the floor.

  “Why? Did something better paying come up?”

  He shrugged and offered his faux-innocent grin, the same one that tricked Grandma into thinking he was an angel. “Ethics dictate that I don’t date clients, but that Gwen’s something else. She reminds me of that actress from Entrapment, you know the one with the dark hair and great ass. I’d like to take her, Gwen, not the actress, out, get to know her better. See what other moves she’s got.”

  A deep breath filled his body with all-important oxygen. The air pressed outward at his throat in a silent scream. Years of experience allowed him to suppress his anger. He refused to be a screamer.

  “Idiot. First, you’re thinking of Catherine Zeta-Jones. Second, you are far too love ’em and leave ’em to get involved with a woman like her. She deserves better. She has a child to think of.”

  “She may be somebody’s mother, but she’s not dead. So far as the ‘better’ comment, I certainly haven’t had any complaints. Not everyone is on the hunt for the love of their life. Some of us take our pleasure where we can get it. Maybe that’s her style. Or are you jealous?”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yeah, jealous. You wouldn’t believe some of the stunts my female clients have done….”

  “Shut up,” he said.

  “She wasn’t in full seduction mode yet. She was wearing too—”

  “I said enough. We’ve got a job to do.” No need to share that his mind had undressed her, too. If Gwen refused him, seeing her with his cousin would kill him. Better not to risk it. Liar. “And put her clothes back on. You have no business—”

  “Yes, sir. Let’s get back at it.”

  “And, Logan, we are not putting in a pole.”

  “It’d be good for business, unless you’re thinking of a more private location.”

  “I ought to slap you, but then Grandma’d slap me at dinner tomorrow.”

  “What can I say, she likes me best.”

  “Then why is my handsome face on more pictures in her house?”

  He slugged him in the arm, and Logan returned the favor. After a few punches and another cookie, they got down to serious work.

  Fortunately, Logan hauled in most of the cut laminate, and he had a backup assistant he could call in if they failed to finish the floor today. They might not. He and walking weren’t on good terms this week. A dull ache in his leg nagged at him, and a blister had formed where flesh met plastic. Installing the floor after his Tuesday fitting appointment at the VA hospital would have been preferable, but Gwen needed the floor. Her need drove him. That and the promise of ibuprofen and massage oil later.

  He dropped to the floor. Damn. A noise escaped his mouth through gritted teeth.

  “Are you going to be oka
y with this work, or should I call someone else to help, too?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just let me get more comfortable.” He removed the transtibial prosthetic from his right leg. “I’ll be faster this way. This one doesn’t fit right.”

  “Can I presume that she doesn’t know about your leg?”

  “Who?”

  “You know who. It’s so obvious. You should have seen your face earlier when I threatened to ask her out. You were like one of those old cartoons where the guy has steam shooting from his nose and ears. Kinda like you look now.”

  “Enough.”

  Logan joined him on the floor. “In all seriousness, I haven’t seen you look twice at a woman since your accident, until now. And she’s different around you than she is with me. I thought I was going to have to tell you two to get a room when she brushed that flour off your cheek earlier.”

  Yeah, that had been nice. He couldn’t suppress his smile.

  “See.”

  “Fine.”

  “So, go for it.”

  He wished he could, but why risk the inevitable rejection?

  “You should. Ladies love a war hero.” Logan winked.

  They did not. Sure, plenty of women waxed poetic about a man in uniform, but the reality was different. When Brooke visited him in the hospital long after he’d begun to heal, she pulled back the covers and screamed. The horrible, shrill sound echoed long after she left the room. She returned six days later with divorce papers. She didn’t say anything other than, “You’re broken and gross.”

  Not that their marriage had been a dream to begin with. Their marriage lacked some intangible quality. On the late-night bombing raids when Matt spoke of his wife, he realized what was missing—a sense of respect, sacrifice, and above all love. Before the injury, he suggested counseling to make the marriage work. But the cruelness of the end surprised him. He’d made peace with the divorce, understanding that he’d never loved her fully. Her parting words still haunted him. Each blow of the hammer locked the floor in place but couldn’t silence the voice in his head. “Broken. Useless. Gross. Damaged.”