Page 19 of The Mating Game
I want to tell her thatno—we can’t start over, if only for my ownsanity, given that being on friendlier terms with her will most likely only make it harder for me to ignore her delectable scent. Still. It seems that she’s here for the next several weeks, and I know that realistically, being at odds with her at every turn because of my own hang-ups isn’t exactly feasible.
“Sure,” I say as I slowly take her hand, if a tad bit begrudgingly. “I guess we can try that.”
Her answering smile feels like a blow to the chest, the brightness of it making everything feel too tight. Her soft hand in mine makes the skin of my palm tingle, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m jerking my hand away and shoving it in my pocket. I try to pretend that I don’t see the flash of disappointment in her eyes.
“You are Miss Fixit, after all,” I tell her with a shrug.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Cute.”
She rises to her full height—which is still much shorter than me—crossing her arms.
“Get all that whittling done?”
My lips twitch, but I snuff out the smile before it has time to form. “Not quite.” I eye the pink sweatpants that hug the generous curve of her hips, my eyes dipping to her ridiculous fuzzy socks before I scold myself for even looking. “What are those?”
“What?” She follows my line of sight, eyeing her feet before cocking a brow back at me. “Socks?”
“Those arenotsocks.”
“Of course they are.”
“They look like you skinned the Lorax.”
She rolls her eyes. “Sorry. You weren’t around to consult when I was getting dressed.” She lets her gaze sweep around the room. “I was actually about to start exploring a little more…Mind giving me a tour of the place?”
Actually, I’d like to get far away from you, because you smell like something I want to take a bite out of.
“I guess I can do that,” I say instead like a jackass.
She gives me a little mock bow, extending her arm as if to say,After you.
I shake my head, turning to leave the room so she can’t see the smirk that touches my mouth.
Tess Covington might be trouble.
I’ve never hadsomeone wax poetic about my banisters before, but Tess found out they’re original to the property and hand-carved by my great-grandfather, and she hasn’t stopped talking about them since.
“I really want to highlight them in the remodel,” she’s saying. “The mantel too. You said he carved that also?”
I nod mutely, a little dumbstruck by her good mood. It’s like once she slid into her element, she became an entirely different person. Or rather, she started actually beingfriendly. Her attitude up until this point has probably been my fault, so I can’t really blame her for it.
It’s actually kind of…sweet. How into this she obviously is. That makes it hard to look away when she starts going on and on about the original flooring she finds under the old carpet and starts gushing about it.
“This is fantastic! We have to rip all the carpet up and refinish this hardwood. I can’t believe it’s just been sitting here for who knows how long. Did you know this was under here?”
Another probably dumb-looking nod, because I haven’t yet figured out how to get a word in edgewise with the way she’s chattering on.
Ishouldn’tfind it cute.
Or her in general, really.
You’d think I would know better, that my body would have formulated some sort of omega defense system, considering the last one I got close to practically ripped my heart out, and yet here I am, openly admiring this woman who apparently knows her way around a hammer.
It’s ridiculous.
“—and if you meant it about driving me into town, I’d actually really appreciate it.”
I blink, coming out of my own head and back into the conversation.
