“Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Toby. Lead carpenter for Legacy Builders.”
I give his hand a shake. “Marissa Morganstern. Pleasure to meetyou.” I intentionally use my real name instead of my stage one. I don’t want to be a movie star here. I just want to be a regular person, primed to enjoy the summer like everyone else.
Unfortunately, it isn’t a sufficient cover, because recognition immediately dawns in his eyes.
“Oh,you’rethe movie star who’s in for the summer! My wife has been talking my ear off about it. Congratulations on your engagement, by the way!”
“No, that’s not me, actually. It’s—”
“Shelby is convinced it’s a shotgun wedding. Such a cynic, that one.” His gaze drops to my belly. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell her she was way off base about you being pregnant.”
My mouth falls open. Naturally, this is the exact moment Isla swings through the back door.
“You’repregnant?” she squeals. “How is that possible? Who’s the father? The only person you ever hang out with is Aunt Pooja.”
Well, that went downhill fast. I take a slow, steadying breath, willing myself to keep it together.
Toby has the decency to look mortified. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t spoil any family announcement—my wife, she’s always saying I never know when to shut my trap. It’s just that once I get to talking, I—”
“Geez, Toby, leave the poor woman alone.” I swivel around at the sound of a deep voice behind me. Standing in the doorway is a man so attractive that my breath hitches. My eyes drink in each of his features one by one. The mop of loose brown curls spilling over his forehead. The full, pink lips outlined in a closely trimmed beard. Eyes of an indeterminable shade, a stormy mix of blues and grays. Even though his words were directed to Toby, his gaze is focused solely on me.
Our eyes lock for a long beat before I manage to tear mine away, tracing down the length of his body as I take in the rest of him. He’s dressed in a faded T-shirt and paint-speckled jeans that hug themuscles of his thighs. Most damning of all, there’s a toolbelt wrapped around his hips that’s doing way more for me than any toolbelt has the right to.
My gaze returns to his and my lips part as we stare at each other. I’m aware that I’m shamelessly ogling this man, in front of my children no less. My brain is screaming at me to look away, but I can’t quite convince my eyes to cooperate. It’s a ridiculous reaction, especially for someone who’s spent her career surrounded by beautiful men. After twenty years in the industry, I’m generally immune to their allure. Once you realize what it takes to maintain their physique—strict diets and intense sleep schedules and skincare routines that rival your own—they lose their appeal. But there’s something different about this guy, something natural and undeniably masculine. I wonder fleetingly what he smells like. Probably leather and sandalwood and the ability to split a tree trunk in three confident strokes.
His eyes widen slightly and then I see it, the faintest flicker of recognition. My heart deflates a bit, and I realize how much I’d hoped to maintain anonymity. To meet people here as a stranger, to have them get to know me without any preconceived notions. I feel a glimmer of disappointment, followed by bitter acceptance. What did Ithinkwas going to happen? When was the last time I went anywhere without being recognized?
He blinks and the look of familiarity vanishes as quickly as it appeared. He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his voice is much softer than I expected. “You’ll have to forgive my brother. He isn’t used to talking to humans.”
His brother. It’s then that I finally notice the Legacy emblem on the front of his shirt. Understanding dawns on me. I had only briefly read the “About Me” portion of the company’s website but I remember they are a family. There’s Toby, the carpenter; Shelby, who handles interior design, and then—
“I’m Jesse,” he says with a curt nod. I notice he doesn’t extend a hand for me to shake, and it’s probably for the best. “The foreman.”
“Oh! Um… it’s nice to meet you.” I keep trying to look away, but so far, I’m not having much luck. I’m still lost in those murky blue eyes when Isla’s voice snaps me out of whatever spell this man has cast on me.
“Mom,” she says, her voice taking on a whiny edge. “Do you have a Band-Aid?” My gaze snags on her skinned knee, the small sliver of blood peeking through a cluster of dirt.
“What happened?” I ask.
“There was a loose stone on the path to the dock, and I tripped over it.” There’s a trace of smug satisfaction in her expression, like she’s already proved the house isn’t as great as I’d pitched it.
My stomach dips with a familiar sense of guilt. I shouldn’t have let Isla wander through the backyard unsupervised. But Levi’s stimming and the noise in the house claimed my attention, and once again, my eldest and most competent child got the short end of the stick.
I break eye contact before she can read the look on my face, and start fumbling through my purse.
“Rinse it off in the sink,” I say. “I’ve got a first-aid kit in here.”
“Great,” she mumbles. “Also, when are we going to eat? I’m starving.”
Her words elicit a rumble in my own belly. I turn my wrist to check my watch. It’s four in the afternoon, but with the time difference, it’s lunchtime in LA.
“Hungry,” Levi insists, tugging at my pant leg. We’ve only been here for five minutes and my family is already injured and underfed. I am a negligent mother.
“How about this? We’ll quickly unpack and then we can go into town and find a place to grab a bite.”
“Why don’t you let us bring in your bags?” Jesse offers. “Youcan unpack when you get back. In the meantime, there’s a great burger joint about five minutes from here.”
“Oh. That would be great,” I say. Relief floods through me. That is, until I realize he’s giving me the celebrity treatment. He probably thinks I expect this, that I’m the type of person who needs to be catered to. Mortification scrapes over me. I’m not sure why, but it’s suddenly very important that he doesn’t see me this way. That he doesn’t think I’m a spoiled brat who thinks everyone has a duty to accommodate her.
