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She tracked her gaze down Tim’s strong profile, taking in every detail that mattered. The bit of gray at his temples, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that had probably come from squinting into the sun, the hand with the long, thick fingers gripping the steering wheel. Muscular forearm. Long, athletic body inside those pressed clothes.
One night. That’s all. One night isn’t a distraction.
Valerie ignored the buzz of her phone inside her purse and put on a grin when Tim glanced over at her. She’d always preferred warm dark eyes on men, but on Tim, the pale blue didn’t seem so cold.
Tim parked in a numbered space at the wharf and killed the ignition. “My boat is just a few slips down.”
“I…” Valerie gave her head a clearing shake and cleared her throat. Perhaps she was being a bit reckless, but she still needed to keep her wits about her. “Should I leave my purse here?”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for long enough that she knew he was either thinking up a lie or becoming impatient with her.
Already, Mr. Dowd? Really?
She knew not to expect too much. In fact, she shouldn’t have been expecting anything from him at all. She’d just needed the reminder.
She slung the purse’s strap over her shoulder and opened the truck door. She jumped down from the truck and slammed the door.
Tim locked the vehicle and canted his head toward the waterfront. “This way.”
She followed. “Do you really need my professional opinion about something? I generally bill for that.”
“I’ll pay you if you like. You’ll have to go through my accounting department, though, and the lady in charge prefers to cut checks fifteen to thirty days after service just to make sure I’m satisfied with the quality of work I’ve received.”
“I don’t even know where I’m going to be in thirty days.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Shora project is ending. Or at least, my part of it is. I had to be there to make sure all of the models went up to spec and make sure there were no regulatory issues. I’m a licensed architect, but they don’t really need an architect on-site for the next phase. They can get one of the young, bossy project manager guys at the firm to handle the rest. Everything else going up on the residential end are just going to be exact cookie cutter replications of the six models. And, no, I did not design them.”
He grunted, sort of noncommittally.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t care? Why’d you bother asking?”
“Didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t care. You just tossed a lot of information at me. I’m mentally triaging and trying to decide what’s the most important. Give me your arm.”
“What?”
“Your arm, please.” He indicated the wooden walkway to the pier, which was elevated several inches off the ground.
“Oh.” It was hardly a climb, but she appreciated the small act of chivalry all the same.
She stepped up, and he got her walking on the edge of the waterfront.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
Her exhalation came out sounding like a scoff. “Six months.”
“Really? You’ve been in the area for six months and tonight’s the first time I’ve seen you? That’s unheard of in this area, especially since we seem to have a handful of mutual acquaintances.”
“I keep myself busy. Work, work, work.”
“I see,” he murmured.
Tim marched her past a few cabin cruisers, probably used for day trips and fishing, and she slowed upon approaching a forty-foot Dowd craft.
“Nope. That’s not mine.” He got her moving again.
Realizing where they were pointed, she dug in her heels to stop them and nudged his hand away from her elbow. “That big beast at the end?”
