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His right eyebrow raised a fraction, as if questioning her pathetic excuse for not calling him. “Yeah, work gets like that sometimes.”
Didn’t anything ever rattle him? She expected him to call her out on her excuse, not agree with her.
“It sounded like you were busy earlier when I called? All those tools in the background?”
Though eager to get the hinge fixed so she could usher him out, the polite thing to do was make small talk before offering him a coffee then the door.
“Yeah, the current project I’m working on is coming along nicely.”
“Bet you still get a buzz, constructing something from the ground up, getting your hands dirty.”
Her gaze drifted to his hands casually clutching the bar and languid heat stole through her body at the thought of those strong, elongated fingers and broad palms getting downright dirty with her.
Fighting a blush and losing, she tore her gaze away and forced it upward, not surprised to see the glint of amusement in his eyes and his lips curved into a knowing smile.
“I enjoy it.” He pushed off the bar and crossed the short space between them, sending her pulse rate soaring.
She swallowed, trapped between the espresso machine and a cake display, unable to stop thinking about those hands reaching out to her, resting gently on her waist, pulling her closer and…
“Would you like me to get started?”
Her gaze flew to his as her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, her body in total meltdown. He was talking about the fridge hinge. Of course he was, but it didn’t stop her imagination taking flight in all sorts of wicked ways as to how he could get started—with her.
“It’s down here,” she managed to say, thankful her voice wasn’t half as shaky as her resolve to hold him at arms’ length.
“Okay, let’s take a look.”
He squatted, dispelling the intimate fog that had surrounded them a second earlier. However, focussing his concentration on the hinge didn’t help cool her down, considering crouching down on his haunches only served to pull the work-worn denim taut across his butt.
Had he grown oblivious to the attraction zinging between them? Had her disinterest in not returning his call served its purpose? If so, she should be springing over the bar and adding a high side-kick for good measure. Instead, she squatted next to him, disgruntled and confused and totally out of sorts.
It had been so long since she’d felt this way, preferring to play it safe where guys were concerned and not date, knowing she could rely on her business and not the male species.
Right now, staring at Blane’s butt, with heat licking along her veins and sending her intentions to hold him at bay up in smoke, safe was the furthest thing from her mind.
“I assume you have tools when you said you’d tried to fix this?”
“Uh-huh.”
Reaching under the nearby bench, she pulled out her tool kit and slid it over to him.
He grimaced and barked out a laugh. “It’s pink.”
“Your powers of observation are truly amazing,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek to stop from joining in his laughter.
“I’ve never seen a pink tool box before.”
She rolled her eyes and flipped it open, handing him the screwdriver he’d need.
“That’s because you work with boys. I’m sure if you had the foresight to hire a woman to be on your work crew you’d see pink tool kits every day of the week.”
“As it happens, several of our best employees are women but they’d be laughed off the job site if they showed up wielding pink tools.”
He grinned as he took the proffered screwdriver, his fingers brushing hers, sending shards of electricity shooting up her arm as she struggled not to yank her hand back. “I’m impressed.”
“With the pink tool kit?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his mouth twitching. “With the fact you knew which screwdriver to use.”
