drink?”
He heaved a Japanese maple into place, the root ball so large he could barely get his arms around it. “I’m good.”
All those flexing muscles distracted her a little. He wore a faded blue police academy T-shirt with jeans and work boots. The weather wasn’t warm enough to make a man truly sweat, but he did work up enough sheen on his skin to mold the soft material of the shirt to his torso and wide shoulders.
She found him very distracting. As in, she was surprised women weren’t lining up on the sidewalk to watch him work.
She wasn’t used to being around men who did physical labor. Who knew it could be this sexy? She’d always been a city girl. When she’d lived with Jeremy, they had a sixth-floor condo in Philly, near the hospital in case she had an emergency. They didn’t have as much as a flower box on their balcony.
There was something insanely attractive about Bing as he worked, the display of raw strength, the bunching and flexing of muscles. The way he moved, and sometimes grunted, touched some deep, primal part of her. The cavewoman part of her DNA responded to him in a way she couldn’t remember responding to a man before.
She took a step back when she wanted to take a step forward. “When should I come over to take a look at your place? First I have to measure everything. Then I can put the parameters into the landscaping software, play around with it, and print out some possibilities.”
The tree was in the hole. He scattered some fertilizer around the roots, then dumped in a bucket of water.
“Next day I have off is Saturday,” he told her as he picked up the shovel to fill up the gaps and finish planting the tree. “Does that work for you?”
She nodded. “The best part of being self-employed is that I can set my own schedule.” She could always add some extra work hours in the evenings instead of watching TV with Peaches.
He moved on to put in some giant ornamental grasses she’d ordered because she’d read that birds liked to nest in them and they ate the seeds in the winter. He’d already dragged all the plants and trees to where they would be planted, so she could make sure what had worked on paper would work in real life too. All he needed to do was move a clump of grass back a foot, then start digging.
When he lifted to step on the shovel, the jeans tightened on his butt. She felt bad about leering, she really did. But she had a hard time looking away.
“Budget?” she asked, to distract herself.
He glanced at her. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
It felt nice to have her opinion asked. “No sense putting a lot of money into it if you’re selling the place. Just enough to make everything look fresh and taken care of. Reseed the trouble spots in the lawn, edge the flower beds, take out everything that’s dead or unhealthy.”
She thought for a minute. “Maybe put some flowering bushes by the front door to draw the attention there. Azaleas would be good. They’re flowering right now, and they’re pretty.”
His masculine lips tugged into a smile that made her heart thump. “You’re good at this.”
She swallowed. The man shouldn’t be smiling and flexing muscles at the same time. It was too much for someone like her, whose only experience with men was, well…Jeremy.
He worked through the morning, while she tried to process the fact that she was seriously attracted to him. The idea made her feel wary.
He was too much of a type A, take-charge kind of guy. She was still trying to figure out who she was, what she wanted to do with her new lease on life. Her little cottage, her little garden, her home. Her choices.
Yet feeling attraction toward a man was a good sign. It was so blessedly normal when her past had been anything but. So she didn’t resist too hard the impulse to watch him.
He worked like he meant it. Since he’d started first thing in the morning, he was done by eleven. He cleaned up in the sink in her laundry room, then went out
He heaved a Japanese maple into place, the root ball so large he could barely get his arms around it. “I’m good.”
All those flexing muscles distracted her a little. He wore a faded blue police academy T-shirt with jeans and work boots. The weather wasn’t warm enough to make a man truly sweat, but he did work up enough sheen on his skin to mold the soft material of the shirt to his torso and wide shoulders.
She found him very distracting. As in, she was surprised women weren’t lining up on the sidewalk to watch him work.
She wasn’t used to being around men who did physical labor. Who knew it could be this sexy? She’d always been a city girl. When she’d lived with Jeremy, they had a sixth-floor condo in Philly, near the hospital in case she had an emergency. They didn’t have as much as a flower box on their balcony.
There was something insanely attractive about Bing as he worked, the display of raw strength, the bunching and flexing of muscles. The way he moved, and sometimes grunted, touched some deep, primal part of her. The cavewoman part of her DNA responded to him in a way she couldn’t remember responding to a man before.
She took a step back when she wanted to take a step forward. “When should I come over to take a look at your place? First I have to measure everything. Then I can put the parameters into the landscaping software, play around with it, and print out some possibilities.”
The tree was in the hole. He scattered some fertilizer around the roots, then dumped in a bucket of water.
“Next day I have off is Saturday,” he told her as he picked up the shovel to fill up the gaps and finish planting the tree. “Does that work for you?”
She nodded. “The best part of being self-employed is that I can set my own schedule.” She could always add some extra work hours in the evenings instead of watching TV with Peaches.
He moved on to put in some giant ornamental grasses she’d ordered because she’d read that birds liked to nest in them and they ate the seeds in the winter. He’d already dragged all the plants and trees to where they would be planted, so she could make sure what had worked on paper would work in real life too. All he needed to do was move a clump of grass back a foot, then start digging.
When he lifted to step on the shovel, the jeans tightened on his butt. She felt bad about leering, she really did. But she had a hard time looking away.
“Budget?” she asked, to distract herself.
He glanced at her. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
It felt nice to have her opinion asked. “No sense putting a lot of money into it if you’re selling the place. Just enough to make everything look fresh and taken care of. Reseed the trouble spots in the lawn, edge the flower beds, take out everything that’s dead or unhealthy.”
She thought for a minute. “Maybe put some flowering bushes by the front door to draw the attention there. Azaleas would be good. They’re flowering right now, and they’re pretty.”
His masculine lips tugged into a smile that made her heart thump. “You’re good at this.”
She swallowed. The man shouldn’t be smiling and flexing muscles at the same time. It was too much for someone like her, whose only experience with men was, well…Jeremy.
He worked through the morning, while she tried to process the fact that she was seriously attracted to him. The idea made her feel wary.
He was too much of a type A, take-charge kind of guy. She was still trying to figure out who she was, what she wanted to do with her new lease on life. Her little cottage, her little garden, her home. Her choices.
Yet feeling attraction toward a man was a good sign. It was so blessedly normal when her past had been anything but. So she didn’t resist too hard the impulse to watch him.
He worked like he meant it. Since he’d started first thing in the morning, he was done by eleven. He cleaned up in the sink in her laundry room, then went out
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