Читать книгу Flirting With Disaster - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 9

There was something about a man in low-riding jeans and a tool belt, especially if he had rock-hard abs instead of a beer belly. Maggie sat on a stack of lumber in the shade of an old oak tree and admired the view as Josh stretched to hold a beam in place. Thanks to the typically humid weather, most of the men had stripped off their shirts hours ago. She hadn’t seen so much pale flesh and so many flabby bellies in years. Josh’s tanned, well-honed physique provided an absolutely fascinating contrast.

Then, of course, there was the remarkable fit of his well-worn jeans. Even her most recent bad experience with the male gender hadn’t robbed her of her ability to appreciate the sex appeal of a very fine derriere, even if this one did happen to belong to the annoyingly arrogant Josh Parker.

She was still irritated by his assumption that she was incapable of making a contribution more demanding than brewing coffee and fixing sandwiches. When she’d arrived today, dressed to work, he hadn’t budged from his original position.

“You’re assigned to lunches,” he said, his gaze unrelenting. Then, as if to deliberately taunt her, he added, “I like my coffee strong.”

She’d almost asked if he also liked it dumped over his thick skull.

But because she was here to help, not stir up trouble, she’d made coffee by the gallon and enough sandwiches to feed a starving army. She’d also vowed to set Josh straight about her capabilities before the day was out.

She’d done all of the renovations on the gallery when she’d first bought it. It had given her a deep sense of satisfaction to look around those cozy rooms and know that she’d turned the space from a shabby, deserted storefront filled with cobwebs into an upscale gallery. She’d painted every nook and cranny and hung every track light herself. She’d even replaced the crown molding. In fact, she’d become something of a whiz with her saw and miter box. Wouldn’t the superior Mr. Parker be stunned to know that?

She was debating just how to knock him off his high horse, when Dinah slipped into place beside her. Maggie frowned at her.

“I thought you were working at the TV station today,” she said.

“I took a break to check on things here,” Dinah said, then grinned. “Aren’t you glad you said yes?” she inquired, following the direction of Maggie’s gaze. “Working here sure beats moping around out on Sullivan’s Island, don’t you think?”

“There were plenty of gorgeous, bare-chested men out there,” Maggie retorted. “It was a beach, for goodness’ sakes.”

“Then why are you staring at Josh with such fascination?”

Maggie turned her gaze toward Dinah, sacrificing the fantasies in which she’d been indulging. “Is that what you think I was doing?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Maybe I was just plotting how to destroy the man’s enormous ego.”

Dinah grinned. “Because of the lunch thing? I heard about that. I don’t suppose you added anything extra to his coffee, did you?”

“Not this time. I’m trying to decide if I want to kill him or make him suffer for a few hours. I’m leaning toward the latter.”

Dinah studied her worriedly. “You’re not really that furious with him, are you? He was just being a guy. You have this ultrafeminine look about you that makes men misjudge you. Show him what you’re capable of doing and he’ll put you to work. He needs all the qualified help he can get.”

“I don’t think he’s all that interested in my construction skills,” Maggie said.

“Few men think of drill bits and hammers when they first see you, Magnolia. Give the guy a break.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because he’s sexy and available, for starters.”

A warning bell sounded in Maggie’s head. She knew all the signs of Dinah on a mission. “Don’t get any ideas,” she warned, once again dragging her gaze away from that delectable backside. “I’m here to work. Nothing more.”

“Then you’re insane,” a lilting, unfamiliar voice chimed in. “I loved my husband and I’m not looking for a replacement, but that one could change my mind, at least for a night.”

Maggie turned and saw that they’d been joined by a woman with dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes. She was so fragile-looking, Maggie was sure a strong wind could pick her up and carry her off. Yet there was something about her, an indefinable spark of amazing strength, as well as a glint of humor in her eyes. Maggie had no doubt that this was the woman for whom the house was intended. Dinah confirmed it.

“I’m with you,” Dinah said, grinning at the newcomer. “Amanda O’Leary, this cynical woman is Maggie Forsythe. She owns Images.”

Amanda’s eyes lit up with unmistakable approval. “Oh, what a lovely shop. I was in there not long after you opened. Even before …” Her eyes welled with tears, and she brushed them away impatiently. “It was always out of my league, but I certainly admire your taste.”

Maggie was pleased with the compliment. How could she help but like anyone who admired her taste? “You’ll have to come by again and I’ll help you choose something for your new home. It will be my housewarming gift to you.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I couldn’t possibly accept,” Amanda protested. “You being here to help is more than enough. I knew people from church were going to be here, but I’m overwhelmed that so many other people are willing to pitch in and do something like this for a stranger. Having a home of our own again, well, it’s practically a miracle to me and the kids. After my husband died, I thought we’d never get back on our feet, not with all those creditors hounding us.”

“I thought declaring bankruptcy protects you from them,” Maggie said.

“It does … it did,” Amanda said. “But it took me a long time to admit that I needed to take that step. I was determined to pay back every dime Bobby owed until I finally saw that I would never catch up and that I was hurting the kids with my stubborn pride.”

“Speaking of the kids, where are they?” Dinah asked.

Maggie saw the question for what it was, a deliberate attempt to change the touchy subject. She understood Dinah’s motive. Despite her brave front and evident resiliency, Amanda O’Leary was the kind of woman people instinctively wanted to protect. Men had probably been leaping to her defense ever since the tragedy that had taken her husband’s life. Even as that thought crossed Maggie’s mind, she realized how petty it sounded.

“Oh, good grief, the kids were right here a second ago,” Amanda said, her expression alarmed. “I told them to stay put and not get in anyone’s way. Unfortunately, Larry and Jimmy love anything to do with tools, and Susie tags along right after them. She’s going to be quite the tomboy.”

Maggie spotted them before Dinah or Amanda did. All three kids were lined up watching Josh Parker, their expressions unsmiling. He was staring back at them as if they were aliens. Given the way he’d treated her, Maggie caught her breath, anticipating some harsh remark that would send them fleeing in tears.

Instead, Josh hunkered down until he was at eye level with them. She couldn’t hear what he said, but it was enough to earn him a shy grin from Susie, who looked to be about four. The boys were still stoic, as if they’d become used to being shunted aside by grown-ups and anticipated it happening yet again despite Josh’s attention at the moment.

“I’d better go rescue Josh,” Amanda said, worry knitting her brow as she hurried away.

An odd sensation settled in Maggie’s chest when she saw a warm smile spread across Josh’s face at Amanda’s approach. When the woman placed a protective hand on each of her sons’ shoulders, he said something that made her laugh, and Maggie’s heart flipped right over. The jealousy-tinged reaction was disconcerting.

“Looks as if they’re getting along just fine,” she said to Dinah, unable to keep a certain edge out of her voice. “Did I get it wrong, after all? Was that what you had in mind? Not matchmaking for me, but giving Amanda a house and a man to go with it?”

Dinah gave her a knowing look that came from years of being able to read Maggie’s innermost thoughts. “What exactly are you seeing when you look at those two, Maggie?”

“Two people who are flirting with each other,” Maggie said, then couldn’t resist adding, “it’s a little unseemly, don’t you think? Didn’t Amanda just lose her husband?”

Dinah merely grinned. “The accident was almost a year ago and last I heard, flirting’s not a crime. Maybe you should give it a try, Maggie. You used to excel at it. A flirtation might loosen you up.”

“And who would you suggest I flirt with? I’m sure you have someone in mind. If not Josh, it must be someone around here. Caleb, maybe? Didn’t you learn anything after hooking me up with Warren? Caleb seems sweet, but I’m not cut out for the steady, reliable type.”

“I didn’t have anyone in particular in mind, to be honest,” Dinah said with just the right touch of sincerity. “And it doesn’t matter who you flirt with. Just do it. You need to get your blood pumping again.”

“My blood is pumping just fine,” Maggie retorted irritably.

Dinah’s grin spread as she glanced pointedly from Maggie to Josh and Amanda, then back again. “Why, yes, I believe it is. Jealousy sometimes has the same effect.”

With that insightful barb, Dinah sashayed off, leaving Maggie wondering how fast her blood would race if she decided to strangle her best friend.

Josh spotted the purposeful glint in Maggie’s eye from halfway across the yard. He’d actually been surprised when she’d shown up at the building site this morning. He’d been doubly surprised when she’d taken on the lunch assignment without a complaint and done a fine job of it. The coffee had been hot, strong and plentiful. The thick sandwiches had been served on paper plates decorated with little slices of fruit. There had even been homemade brownies for dessert, which suggested she’d been out to prove that she could handle any assignment, no matter how disagreeable, with grace and aplomb.

Now, however, with most people leaving for the day, she looked as if all those words she’d no doubt been biting back since their first meeting were right on the tip of her tongue. He braced himself to tune out the expected harangue.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said when she planted herself in front of him. “I thought you’d take off the minute your assignment was done.”

“We need to talk.”

He wiped the sweat from his brow with a bandanna and resigned himself to letting her have her say. “What about?”

“My capabilities versus your insulting view of women.”

Josh grinned despite himself. “In that case, I think I could use something cold to drink.” Without waiting for her response, he headed for a cooler and pulled out an icy can of soda. “Want one?”

“No, thank you,” she said primly.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He tilted the can and took a long, slow swallow. Drops of ice-cold water dripped from the can and fell on his overheated flesh, which had warmed a few more degrees since Miss Maggie had stepped into his line of vision. The effect she had on him was downright dangerous.

She was a picture of pure femininity, he thought, but he doubted she’d planned it that way. In fact, it was clear she’d set out to prove just the opposite in her blue chambray work shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the tails knotted at her tiny waist. Her jeans were well worn and her shoes were dotted with paint spatters. She’d pulled her long hair up into some sort of knot and secured it to the top of her head.

But none of that took away from her flushed cheeks, shiny lips or the very feminine curls that had escaped to brush the delicate nape of her neck. Some women were simply born sexy, and Maggie was one of them. She could have worn a burlap sack and she’d still have set his pulse racing.

Didn’t matter, he told himself sternly. After what Cord and Caleb had told him about her determination, he knew he couldn’t afford to lose focus around her, not for a second.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” he said, aware that her gaze seemed to be locked on his chest. On another occasion he might have considered her expression flattering or interpreted it as an invitation to something more interesting than conversation.

Her head snapped up and the flush in her cheeks deepened.

“I don’t like you, Mr. Parker.”

Josh bit back a grin. “You’re breaking my heart.”

Undaunted, she went on. “But that’s beside the point. I came here to help and you’re wasting my skills.”

“Really? I thought lunch was fairly good.”

She immediately rose to the bait. “Fairly good? Have you ever had anything better on a construction site?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. Those little fruit things were a nice touch. What do you call that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Garnish. Do you really care about that?”

“Not especially, but you seem to be fishing for compliments on your cooking.”

“I was not fishing for compliments,” she snapped. “Anybody can make sandwiches and slice up some fruit. I was trying to have a serious discussion about how you should be using me.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” he began, giving her a slow once-over, “a few ideas have crossed my mind on that score. But just so we don’t get our wires crossed, what exactly are you offering, Miss Maggie?”

The fire in her eyes flared into a full-fledged inferno. “I’m offering to help you frame this house, you idiot, but you are sorely testing my patience.”

Josh looked into all that heat in her eyes and absorbed the scathing note in her voice and concluded he might have made the tiniest miscalculation about Maggie. “You’re serious? You actually want to get your hands dirty?”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

“You’ve worked construction?”

“Not the way you mean,” she admitted. “I’ve never built a house before, but I have renovated an entire building.”

His gaze narrowed. “Meaning slapping a few coats of paint on the walls?”

She gave him a scathing look. “Meaning tearing out plaster and replacing it with drywall, reinstalling crown molding and matching up baseboards, installing track lighting, switching out electrical boxes and, yes, painting the whole damn thing when I was done.”

He didn’t even try to hide his skepticism. Maybe she’d supervised a professional crew but done the work herself? Not a chance. “Really?”

“Have you ever been in Images?”

Josh stared at her blankly.

“Of course not. It’s an art and antiques gallery. What was I thinking?” she said sarcastically. “At any rate, it’s mine. The building was a disaster when I bought it. I did all the renovations. Did a damn good job of them, too. Ask Cord, if you don’t believe me.”

He regarded her with disbelief. “You did the work yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you hire somebody?” Josh asked.

“Because that’s what everybody expected me to do. I don’t like doing what people expect. I never have. I wanted to prove I could build my business from the ground up, almost literally.”

“How bad was this building?”

“Let’s just say that a lot of people laughed themselves silly when I said I’d bought it. My father almost had a stroke when he saw it, and he’s not prone to overreacting.”

“How old was it?” he asked.

“It had been around since the mid-1800s. The outside was in good shape, but the inside had deteriorated.”

A building that old would definitely have been a challenge, Josh thought. A lot of people would have leveled it and started over. He was impressed that Maggie hadn’t done that. “Did you have Cord take a look at it?” Josh asked curiously.

“He was the first one I called before I signed the papers. He said the building had good bones.”

Josh still wasn’t entirely convinced that she hadn’t exaggerated the transformation. “Mind if I come by to take a look?”

“Did you ask everyone else who volunteered to work on this house to prove their credentials?” she demanded.

Josh waved off the question. “It’s not about that. I’m curious. I’d really like to see it. My expertise is in historic renovation, just like Cord. What can I say? I love old buildings.” If he’d had to explain it, he’d have to say it had some deep-rooted connection to the lack of permanency in his own life, but he didn’t know Maggie well enough to get into all that with her.

She studied him for a long time before nodding. “We can go by there now.”

Josh glanced down at himself. “Like this? I’m a mess. So are you, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“It’s hot as blazes out here. Anyone who’s been outside today is a mess. Besides, the gallery closes at six. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Once again, she’d caught him off guard. He’d figured her for a woman who’d want people to take off their dusty shoes on the front steps. Then, again, she could hardly ask such a thing of customers. Maybe running a retail business had forced her to lower her high standards.

“Then let’s go have ourselves a tour,” he suggested, eager to get a look at the place. “You tell me where and I’ll meet you there.”

Maggie gave him the address, which turned out to be not that far from his motel, though he suspected it was light-years away in terms of class.

“Does a half hour work for you or do you have things to finish up here?” she asked.

“A half-hour suits me fine if you’re sure you don’t mind me coming like this. Otherwise I can swing by my place and shower and be there in forty-five minutes.”

She grinned at him. “As long as you don’t sit on the antique furniture and keep your hands off the paintings, you’ll be fine. And before you get all offended, I say the same thing to anyone who comes into the gallery. The ice-cream cones from the shop next door stay outside.”

“I know how to mind my manners in a fancy place, Miss Maggie.”

Maggie didn’t look as if she believed him, but she merely nodded and headed for her car. Josh’s gaze followed her as she settled behind the wheel of a snazzy little Saab convertible—which cost just about half of his annual salary. It suited her, though.

Maggie Forsythe might want him to believe she was as down-to-earth as anyone else, but he recognized privilege in every delectable, pampered inch of her. That meant they were about as suited as corn bread and champagne.

That didn’t seem to stop him from wanting her, though. He wondered just how long it would be before he made the mother of all mistakes and did something about it.

Maggie liked showing off Images, but she hadn’t been this jittery since the gallery’s opening night, when the invitation-only crowd had dressed in black tie and included all her parents’ high-society friends.

She’d driven crosstown as fast as she’d dared—she’d already received warnings from several easily charmed Charleston policemen. The extra speed had given her just enough time to wash her face, brush out her hair and add a touch of lipstick and gloss before she heard Josh coming in the front door.

He’d pulled on a navy blue T-shirt and tucked it into his jeans, but the additional clothing hadn’t done a thing to take the edge off his sex appeal. Too bad. She’d been hoping her reaction, which had centered on his bare chest, would vanish once that chest was suitably attired.

She studied his face as he stood in the middle of the main room and surveyed it from top to bottom. She couldn’t tell for sure if he was looking at the art and sculptures, the antiques or the renovations, but she was on edge as she tried to gauge his reaction to any of it. Why she wanted this man’s approval was beyond her. She doubted he knew anything at all about art, possibly even less about antiques. He did, however, know renovations, so maybe that was why she was so edgy. Then again Cord had said she’d done an excellent job.

“Well?” she prodded when she couldn’t stand it a moment longer.

“Do you have any before pictures?”

“A whole scrapbook full,” she said, leading him over to the leather-bound volume she kept on a desk near the front door. Josh flipped the pages, glanced up several times as if to make comparisons, then slowly whistled.

“Is that approval?” she asked tentatively.

“Well, the place is definitely not what I expected,” he said at last.

Maggie couldn’t interpret the comment or his expression. “Meaning?”

“I’m not exactly an expert on galleries,” he said, turning slowly to take in the rest of the room, “but the ones I’ve been in were a little cold, a little too, I don’t know, impressed with themselves.”

“Yes,” Maggie said cautiously. That was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.

“I feel at home here,” Josh said. “I felt it the minute I came in the door. This place makes me want to buy something so my home will feel the same way. Those other places just make you want to possess something because someone else has judged it to be great art.”

Maggie was so overwhelmed by his insight that she only barely resisted the urge to throw her arms around him. “That’s exactly what I wanted people to feel when they walked in here,” she said. Maybe she’d have to take back all the thickheaded, macho labels she’d been pinning on him.

He nodded distractedly and hunkered down on one knee beside the baseboards. “These are original?”

“Most of them. I had to replace some.”

“Do you know which ones?”

She grinned. “Do you?”

“Looks like a perfect match to me,” he admitted.

“Cord was able to find me some from the same time period at another site.”

“Atlanta,” Josh said at once, his expression oddly triumphant. “Damn, I knew this looked familiar. We had some old baseboards left over and they disappeared one day. No one would own up to taking them. I never thought to ask Cord.”

Maggie winced. “Sorry. I hope you didn’t need them.”

“Cord wouldn’t have taken them if we had, but it was a mystery that kept nagging at me.” He stood up and met her gaze. “So, did you and Cord have a thing before he got together with Dinah? He said he’s known you practically forever.”

Maggie was thrown by the out-of-the-blue question. She debated how to answer it, then settled for the truth. “I was attracted to Cord for a while, but he never even gave me a second glance. Dinah’s the only woman he ever had eyes for.”

“You don’t seem weighed down with regret,” Josh noted.

“Not over Cord,” she agreed.

He studied her intently. “Over someone else?”

Her pulse scrambled under that steady, speculative gaze. “Does it matter?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

She liked his honesty. “Let me know when you decide.”

“Until then, you don’t want to share any deep dark secrets?”

Maggie chuckled. “There’s nothing especially dark or secret about it. Half of Charleston knows the story of my pitiful love life.”

“Then why keep it from me?”

“It would only bore you to tears, unless you decide you’re fascinated by me.” She recalled what Dinah had said to her about putting her flirting skills to better use. She tilted her head and looked deep into Josh’s eyes. “Are you fascinated, Josh?”

To her chagrin, he laughed. “Miss Maggie, you could fascinate the pants off a saint, and I am only a humble, mortal man. I am most definitely intrigued.”

She rested her hand lightly on his chest and kept her gaze locked with his. “In that case …”

A tiny little muscle in his jaw worked. “Yes?”

“Could I persuade you to let me help on the construction team next week? Don’t you think I’ve proved myself?”

A startled grin spread across his face. “Sugar, just the thought of you with a hammer in your hands makes my heart palpitate.”

She studied him warily. “Is that a yes or a no?”

“As much as I’m going to miss those little fruit garnishes, it’s a yes. But I balk at letting you anywhere near a circular saw.”

Maggie was about to tell him that she was quite an expert with a circular saw, but decided to leave that battle for another day. She might as well savor one victory at a time. She had a feeling they were all going to be hard won.