Honeymoon for One by Chris Keniston Page B

with faded baggy pants and her hair tied back in a red bandanna, the woman looked absolutely edible. He held out the bag. "I brought lunch.”
    "Chinese," Corrie offered, as if it weren't obvious from the paper bags and tantalizing aroma of fried rice wafting down the hall.
    Michelle ran her hands down the side of her sweatpants before taking the bag from him. "You shouldn't have.”
    The gentle twitch at the corner of a forced smile told him she wasn't just being polite. She meant it. But after almost four hours at his computer and next to nothing to show for his time, he really did need to come by and see his Micki. He missed her. Missed the feel of her in his arms. The sound of her laugh. The throaty little sound she'd make when he touched her in just the right spot.
    Slowing his gait, he shook off any more thoughts that would get him into serious trouble. Especially if he walked into the kitchen sporting the hard-on currently pressing against his zipper. Damn, he needed to get this assignment over with. And fast.
     
    ***
     
    "The nail should be just under the ridge of shingles." Michelle pointed to the spot where she used to see Steven reaching when he hung the Christmas lights.
    "If there was a nail here before, it's not here now." Kirk turned in place, lowered a few steps on the ladder, and bowed one swinging arm impersonating a gorilla. "Hand me a new nail and the hammer."
    Corrie took off for the porch and reappeared carrying a hammer and a broad smile. "Is Michelle going to have to pay you in bananas?”
    "All donations accepted." He clipped her chin with one finger before wrapping his hand around the handle of the hammer and returning to his earlier perch at the top of the ladder.
    "Well, it's certainly been a lot more fun hanging lights with you than stuffy Steven."
    "Stuffy Steven?”
    Michelle noticed him fumble briefly with the cord before she shot her sister a don't-go-there look.
    Kirk secured the string of lights to the new nail and leaned over to hook it around the next nail before coming down to move the ladder over.
    "So," he asked, climbing back up. "Would this stuffy Steven be the same friend I met at the office not long ago?"
    Michelle wished her sister was close enough to kick. "Don't slip." She pointed to the ladder, ignoring the question and urging him back to work.
    Stopping halfway up, he turned to glance at Michelle. Memories of a ripped hunk making his way up the rock wall filled her with an unexpected heat. Damn him. More recent memories from the hospital of a calm, steady hand urging her on, assuring her all would be well, squeezed her heart. Double damn.
    Still waiting for an answer, he tossed a glance Corrie's way. His eyes asking the same question.
    Shrugging an apologetic shoulder, Corrie offered her sister an overly sweet, it's-not-my-fault-he-asked look. "Tall, skinny guy, sort of good-looking in a metrosexual sort of way?"
    Kirk hung another stretch of lights before he answered, "Could be." Descending the ladder he directed another question to Corrie. "Works at a bank?"
    "Yep. The Rat Bastard. Steven Williams the Fourth."
    "The Fourth?" He made a good effort to hide a smile before moving the ladder a few more feet. "That might explain that metrosexual thing.”
    "Might." Corrie tested another string of lights before passing it on to Kirk.
    For the next couple of hours Michelle and Corrie tested lights, changed burned out bulbs, and held the strands so Kirk wouldn't get tangled climbing up and down the ladder.
    "I gather you don't need to raid my tool box anymore?" Angie strode across the short stretch of lawn between the two houses. "Who's the hunky handyman?"
    "That would be my boss. At least for now.”
    Angie's eyes circled round. " That's the guy who holds your job in the palm of his hand?"
    Michelle opened another box of replacement bulbs. "One and the same.”
    Holding her hand to shade her eyes, Angie watched Kirk and Corrie work. "So why is he stringing your lights?”
    Why was