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Even though he is.
“Mrs. Lockhart.” My brother reaches out to lead her away. “Let me take you into the office and have you sign off on the work we did, while Spencer talks to Ms. McCoy.” He flashes both women a bright smile. “That sound all right with both you ladies?”
Man, he’s smooth.
Mrs. Lockhart swoons a little. No joke. “That’s a perfectly suitable plan, Franklin.” As she follows him across the garage, she fans her neck with a handkerchief. Frank has that effect on women. Meanwhile, Tess is standing right next to me.
Totally handkerchief-free.
She peers around my body, like she’s checking to be sure my brother and the mayor are out of earshot. Then she looks up at me and blinks. She may be frustrating and crazy and…frustrating … but if I did something to upset her for real, I need to know.
“Hey,” I say. “Are you all—”
“I have a favor to ask,” she interrupts. “Actually, it’s a huge one.”
“Okay.” I glance around, looking for cameras. I must be on some reality show, being punked. First I agree to an absolutely insane bet with my brother, and now Tess McCoy is asking me for help?
Sorry, Tornado Tess. I’ve got my own situation going on.
She’s got a strange look on her face now. Like she’s doing calculus in her head. “You don’t have enough money for that down payment, right?”
Oof. Thanks for the reminder. I haven’t even begun to process that yet. “Pointing out what I lack is a strange way of asking me for a favor.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “I’m strange.”
A slow smile inches across my face. Despite the clench in my gut, her directness has me smiling. “So what does my financial situation have to do with ahugefavor?” I emphasize the wordhuge. Her choice. Not mine.
“You know how I was going to be the assistant director at the camp this summer?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve just been promoted. I’m the director now. In charge. And I have a new work opportunity that will let you add to your house fund.”
I lift my hands in a preemptive apology. “Sorry, Mess, but I’m stretched too thin already. With the library on weekdays and the car wash on the weekends. As much as I’d like to help, I don’t have any free time to spare.”
“What if I said you could make more money”—she splays her hands—“while we’re sleeping?”
“Hold on now.” I glance around again. Therehaveto be cameras behind me, right? “You want to pay me to sleep with you?”
“What? No!” she screeches, just like she did at Mrs. Lockhart. Then she lays her palms on my chest and shoves. But I’m a statue. I don’t move. My shirt’s still tucked into my pocket, so we’re skin to skin now. I’m not gonna lie. I feel a little branded. So she shoves again. Hard. When I don’t stumble backward, it’s her turn to look stunned. Her hands are still cupping my pectorals. And she’s close enough for me to catch her scent. Like sea salt and… cantaloupe.
Not what I expected.
We both stand there. Frozen. Her fingers pressed into my flesh like she’s making one of those clay handprints.
Then a voice off to the side says, “Excuse me.”
We both whip around to the open door of the garage. It’s Jill.
“I finished my Gatorade,” she says. “And both granola bars. Then I rinsed off my car.” She scrunches her nose. “I can’t stall anymore, Tess. I’ve got nothing left to do. Are you ready to go yet?” Jill’s gaze shifts to Tess’s hands on my bare chest. She’s still clutching me. Pectorally.
Why is Tess still clutching me?
“If you need more time…” Jill’s voice trails off.
“No!” Tess blurts out, dropping her arms, but it’s too late. My face is officially on fire, and for the first time today, I give thanks for the heat. Hopefully all the redness spreading across my chest won’t look like a reaction to being touched by Tess McCoy.
Because that’s not what it’s about.
