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“Boss?” Darryl’s deep voice pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up at him, using a bandana to wipe my sweat as I sat back on my knees.

“What’s up?”

“It’s hot as hell out here. We’re going to Cowboy Café for lunch. You wanna come?”

Yes. “Nah, I’ve got some sandwiches and phone calls to make. You guys go on and get out of this sun for an hour.”

Twenty minutes later, the guys were all gone, leaving me to work in peace inside the quiet, spacious house. I made a few calls to place orders for lighting and sink fixtures and updated Vince on our progress by email. Cal hadn’t made all the important decisions yet on the details, so I did what I could to keep the job on schedule even though it was only day one.

A noise came from near the front of the house and I froze, looking around to see if the guys had returned. It was only five after twelve, so maybe a few rodents or pets had gotten inside. I crept toward the front door, scanning the floor for critters, but there were none. Then I heard it, a distinctly human grunt, and my shoulders relaxed.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

Cal appeared in the living room, arms filled with two white paper bags and a smile on his handsome face. “Just me? I expected a much warmer greeting, babe.”

I narrowed my gaze at his smiling face. “Babe? You have me confused with one of your women, but I’ll help you out. My name is Teddy, or Ms. Ricci, if you prefer. Not babe or honey or sweetheart. Got it?”

“Sure thing, doll. Hungry?”

I was starved, but I shook my head. “No thanks.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Liar. Come on, I brought lunch.”

Cal made his way to the kitchen with a confident swagger, so sure I would follow him simply because he asked. Except he hadn’t asked, not really, he kind of commanded me to follow him.

“It’s nothing fancy, if that helps. Just deli sandwiches with the fixins. All the fixins.”

I ignored the heat that seared my skin when he smiled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows. “It really isn’t necessary, Cal.”

“It is,” he insisted with a serious gaze and nodded toward the table. “Sit. Let me feed you, Teddy.”

I groaned at his bossy tone that, yeah, was also kind of sexy, and took a seat against the wall so I could keep an eye on him and some much-needed distance between us. “What did you get?”

“Sandwiches,” he repeated. “From Hobart’s Deli. They have the best in town.”

“Agreed.” They made their own pickles and potato chips, neither of which I could get enough of from one week to the next. “But I’m asking for specifics, smartass.”

“That’s Mr. Smartass to you, doll.” He winked and I swear it felt like a caress. “Soda, water, or juice?”

“Water’s good, thanks.”

I watched the way Cal moved around his kitchen, his body strong and lean, his movements graceful like an athlete. I could only imagine how skilled his hands were as an emergency room surgeon, but I shut that thought down before I could explore it any further. Cal was a client, that was it. He wasn’t an object of my fantasies, and he wasn’t a friend—he was someone paying me to do a job.

End of story.

“Beef and cheddar with creamy horseradish.” He set the sandwich down in front of me with a proud smile.

I frowned. “Who told?”

“Hobart himself, but Hannah confirmed it.” His satisfied smile was almost too much to take, but when those blue eyes darkened with desire and watched me for far too long, I knew there were different levels to too much. “Impressed?”

“Happy you got my favorite,” I told him honestly. “I would have been really upset if you had brought turkey and avocado or some other nonsense.” I worked hard and had a healthy appetite, something few people could grasp in this age of salads. “Thanks.”

Cal took the seat at the head of the table, directly to my right so every time one of us moved, our arms brushed. “My pleasure,” he shot back with a smile and reached into one last bag, pulling out a container of pickles first, followed by homemade dill chips.

“I would be impressed,” I told him around a bite of juicy pickle, “if you hadn’t interrogated the entire town for answers.”

Cal shrugged, unapologetic about his efforts. “If you don’t know something, ask. Right? It’s not like you would’ve told me if I had asked you directly.”

“True. Thanks for the meal, Doc.” I appreciated the thought, but whatever he was up to, I didn’t want any part of it. Cal’s games didn’t end well for me, so I accepted the sandwich as a goodwill gesture and ate it happily.

“How are things going?”

“Good. We’re just getting started, but so far, so good. Worried?”

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