A Single Date (Dating Just Got Serious) (2 page)

Drew downed a full
cup of black coffee before stepping out of the truck. Yolanda Maxwell was no
ordinary client. If she were he wouldn’t have dreamt about her last night and
woke up with a boner. Her dark eyes had held his attention but it was her
flawless copper skin that he wanted to touch. The ice in her voice last night
could have sunk the Titanic, but he was a professional. Difficult clients were
just part of the business, but a difficult woman presented a challenge. And he
loved a challenge. But saving Harrison Bryant Contracting was priority number
one. His uncle had left the business to him, but failed to mention it was
drowning in red ink. Without an infusion of cash, Drew would have to float the
business a loan. A large one. His father thought he was crazy for trying to
save the company, but his mother wanted him to try.

He made his way to
Yani’s front door, half expecting her to ignore the knock or bless him out when
she recognized his face through her peephole. But he was willing to take that
chance because something about her had crawled under his skin yesterday. And he
intended to find out what it was.

She snatched the
door open before he rang the doorbell. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of the
straight, sophisticated hairstyle from yesterday, this morning her hair framed
her face in springy spirals. Without make-up, her fresh, clean look was even
more appealing. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. Her toenail polish was a warm
shade of blue that matched her denim shorts.

“Good morning, Yani.
We had an appointment for eight.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s just five
after, but I thought you could use the extra time. Aren’t you going to invite
me in?”

He stepped past
her into the air-conditioned condo, without waiting for a reply. His arm brushed
her breast, sending a pulse through his veins that his coffee couldn’t match.

Her mouth dropped
open just enough to show a row of even white teeth. “The last thing I said to
you—”

“Yeah, I wasn’t
listening. Thank you for being up and ready.” He strolled into her kitchen. The
remnants of eggs and bacon cluttered a plate on the far side of the table.
Steam curled out of a cup of coffee. “Did I interrupt your breakfast?”

She made a show of
rolling her eyes like a child being nagged to do her chores. “You are a
character, aren’t you? After your comment yesterday what makes you think I want
to do business with you?”

He studied her for
a moment before taking a seat at the table. “Because I’m the best and you’re a
perfectionist. Besides, I need the money. Pretend I’m a friend and we’re
talking design.” He patted the seat next to him. “Let me show you some of the
concepts I came up with.”

“What makes you
think I’m a perfectionist?” Her eyes softened and sparkled like a precious
stone.

“Because you try
to control every situation. You haven’t learned that’s impossible yet.”

“If you are going
to be this arrogant, I’m not so certain I want to work with you.”

He paused before
answering. Teasing her was fun, her mouth twitched when she was flustered.
“This is me, always.”

“Good to know.
Then I’ll just have to ignore most of what you say or find someone else to do
the job.”

“Everything I say
is worth hearing. You wouldn’t want to miss out, now would you?”

“Show me the
plans. I’ll look, but it doesn’t mean anything.” She flounced into the chair. The
smell of tuberose and white cedar wood teased his nostrils. The floral scent
reminded him of a gathering of his sisters.

“Good. By the way
I like what you’ve done with your hair. It looks playful and fun.”

Her hand went to
her mane. She ran her fingers through the loose curls settling at her
shoulders. “I’ll ignore that.”

“What? I’m not
allowed to compliment you?”

“I’m still
deciding if I’m going to let you stay in my house.”

“I see.” He smiled
and opened his computer, scanning through the drawings he’d developed last
night. Based on their brief conversation he had two designs for the kitchen and
bath. She gushed over each one like they were gifts and she wanted to pick the
best one. Once he’d explained each one to her, he sat back in his chair.

“What do you
think?” he asked.

“I like them all.”
She perched on the edge of her seat, even closer to him. The hint of cleavage
budding from the low neckline curve of her T-shirt held him captivated. The
skin on her chest was as dewy as the rest of her.

He cut his glance
away and cleared his throat. “Can I get a glass of water?”

She jumped up. The
angst from earlier had vanished. She was as perfect from behind as she was from
the front. Her long slender legs were elegantly shaped like a dancer’s and her
butt was firm and round.

“Do you have
someone you’d like to discuss these drawings with before you make a decision?”

“Umm, no. My
parents live in Florida now and my brother is useless when it comes to design.
He could live in a shoebox if his wife would approve.”

“No girlfriend or
boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend. I’ll
talk to my friend Phoebe when she comes back from her business trip. Anyway I’m
used to making my own decisions. I don’t like a lot of other voices in my
head.” From the refrigerator she filled the glass with ice then water before setting
it in front of him.

With all the right
answers, he drank the contents of glass in one gulp. “Well, which one will it
be? Plan A is a little less expensive than Plan B, but with Plan B you get that
huge walk-in closet that wasn’t on your list of must-haves.”

“I can’t believe
I’m saying this but I want Plan B. That closet is fabulous. I should have
thought of it. When will you get started?”

He stood up. “As
soon as you put on some shoes.”

On her hands and
knees of the floor of her closet, Yani paused to slow her breathing while
looking for her shoes. Last night her dad would have been proud with the way
she’d stood up to Drew. Today, he’d be disappointed if he could hear her heart
thumping against her chest.

The man standing
in her kitchen couldn’t be the same person she met yesterday. Drew still
sported his signature ponytail, but in his starched white shirt and jeans he
didn’t look like anybody’s handyman. He could have been the Harvard graduate or
professional man her parents would adore.

Drew’s strong jaw
and business ethic could even fool her highbrow father into thinking he was
pure blue-blood through and through. But her father wasn’t easily fooled, and
once he found out about Drew, he’d start his traditional rant about her wasting
time with men beneath her station in life. He found something lacking in every
man she liked. Her mom and dad wouldn’t be happy until she was marching down
the aisle with one of those boring country club, shallow-minded elitist duds.

As long as her
parents stayed in Florida, they’d never have to know she was interested in a
man who made his living with his hands. She shook away the deceitful thought as
she opened another shoebox.

The Silverman
contract had her so busy she didn’t have time to date anyone, much less cruise
the clubs looking for the perfect man. If the handsome hunk in her kitchen
giving her a hard time wasn’t attached, he’d do just fine for a hot fling. He
checked all her must-have boxes, even down to the big hands and muscular build.
Just thinking about holding on to him made her feel carefree and careless. From
now until Memorial Day, she’d figure something out.

She found the
wedge sandals and slipped them on. Even if he wasn’t the contractor for her,
hanging out with him could be fun. Every stuff-shirt executive she’d dated in
the last few months had as much personality as a dead fly. She could see her
mother shaking her red lacquered acrylic nail at her for thinking about dating
a man who swung a hammer. Yani’s Ivy League education was supposed to put her
in contact with doctors and lawyers. But if she had to spend another date
listening to
the right man
talk about himself and his car and his stereo
or investments all evening she’d expire. They might have the pedigree her
parents thought was so important, but they had no passion.

“I’m ready,” she
said as she entered the kitchen.

Drew had a
retractable tape measure stretched across the kitchen counter. With expert
precision, he captured the dimensions of the counter and cabinets with a
swiftness that was hard to ignore. He punched a number into his cell phone
before snapping the tape shut and shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s ride.” He
opened the front door and waited while she locked up. They made their way down
the curved walk.

“I can drive.” She
dangled her keys on her index finger. She stopped at her car.

Without slowing
his easy gait, his thick golden brow arched. “We’ll take my truck.” He pointed
to the rusty blue bomb parked next to her car.

“You don’t expect
me to ride in that thing, do you?”

“I most certainly
do. What’s wrong with it? You know, if you were anymore uptight, you’d be
wooden.” He glanced at his truck, then back to her.

She saw laughter
in his eyes as he opened the passenger side door, so there was no sting in his
comment. The inside looked better than the outside, but not by much. At least
the seats were clean, but a collection of empty water bottles and wrappers
cluttered the floor.

“Put on your
seatbelt.” He started up the truck and backed into the street.

She held her feet
close together in the only small clean space on the floor. Maybe her mother had
a point. ‘Right men’ didn’t drive pick-ups or work vehicles. “Does your truck
always look like this?”

“Pretty much. I’ve
had a busy schedule lately. The truck takes last place. You might as well
breathe. You can’t hold your breath until we get there.”

“I don’t mean to
be…uppity…it’s just—”

“I can tell you’re
not used to driving around in something like this, but it’s efficient. If we
need to pick up something today, it will fit in the back.” He nodded at the
truck bed.

“You have a habit
of insulting me in the nicest way.”

“I don’t mean to.
It’s just obvious you only want the best. Look at you, even on a Saturday,
while shopping for flooring and counters, you’re dressed in four hundred dollar
sandals and designer shorts.”

“How do you know
what my shoes cost?” She wiggled her toes, examining her new pedicure.

“I have sisters.
All they do is talk about clothes and shoes.”

“I work very hard
for everything I have.”

“Noted. Tell you
what. Don’t judge me by my truck and I won’t judge you by your clothes. Does
that sound like a deal?”

“Only if you
promise note to judge me because I missed a few appointment, too. Then maybe we
can work a deal.  Now tell me how long you’ve worked for Bryant Construction.”

He glanced at her
with a smirk. “For about two years now.”

“I actually
thought I’d be working with Mr. Bryant on my reno.”

“I hope I’ll do.
I’m more than qualified for this project.” His clipped tone indicated she’d
probably offended him. But when her father suggested she use Bryant Contracting
he’d gone on and on about how wonderful the man had been when they added the
addition to their house years ago. Mr. Bryant had to be near sixty now, so
spending the day with Drew was the bonus for a day of looking at wood and
kitchen stuff. At least he didn’t keep looking at his watch or regaling her
with tales of his 401-K.

She sat back.
“Well, I imagine Mr. Bryant would have been easier to work with, but you might
do,” she said with satisfaction.

#

Drew suppressed
the chuckle bubbling in his throat. Her comment was about as transparent and
easy to read as a children’s primer. But he’d allow her the little jab about
his truck and what she imagined was his profession. History had taught him that
flying below the radar had its advantages. A man on a mission had to keep his
priorities straight even if a raven-haired beauty pushed him to distraction.

Part of her charm
was the scrappy way she came at him. But he didn’t feel up for a fight today.

Let her think
Uncle Harrison still ran the business. As long as she let him re-do the kitchen
and bath, he could prove his father wrong, and that was a good day. She
probably thought he was some poor slug who worked for Bryant construction. The
idea made him snicker.

“How long will it
take you to do the work?” she asked without looking his way.

“So you decided
I’m your man, huh? I knew you’d come around.”

“I just don’t have
time to break someone else in. So I’ll make do with you. How long have you been
doing this kind of work?” She continued to stare straight ahead.

“Don’t worry. He wouldn’t
have turned me loose on the public unless he thought I could do the job.” He
found a parking space in the lot of Kitchens and Cabinets and turned off the engine.
She jumped out before he could open the door for her.

“Wow, look at all
that granite,” she squealed as soon as they stepped onto the showroom floor.

“Please don’t get
starry-eyed. Almost everything in here will look good. This is going to be a
long day, so I need you to hang with me and try to visualize my recommendations.”

The luminous smile
she produced had him imagining her tangled between his Egyptian cotton sheets. He
grabbed her hand and pulled her to the cabinet display. Her sex appeal was off
the scale, luring him in subtle ways. She smelled good, she looked even better,
and her walk could stop a high-speed train. Even though she was the complete
package, she seemed unaware of the way she turned heads.

“How can I help
you and your wife?” the salesman asked as he approached, wringing his hands.