Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)

“You were very cryptic,” she said with a laugh. “How could I resist?”


Sunlight suited her, he thought, bracing himself for the inevitable rush of wanting. It delivered right on cue, as he took in the soft wavy curls, the pale skin and temptation in her green eyes. Heat flared, desire exploded and he found himself wishing they were alone someplace quiet and dark. Like his bedroom. Or hers. He wasn’t picky.

Instead they were in a parking lot outside his contractor’s office. In the middle of the day. On the edge of downtown Fool’s Gold. Not exactly the place for a rendezvous. Not that Annabelle was offering.

She approached on her ridiculously high-heeled sandals, her skirt flirting with her thighs. Her T-shirt was simple and shouldn’t have been sexy, but was, hugging curves in a way that made his mouth water.

She stopped in front of him and waited, obviously expecting him to explain why he’d asked her to join him here.

“I need help,” he said, hoping she didn’t realize how true that statement was. “I told you before, I’m having a house built, along with stables and corrals. I can handle the horse-related decisions. I know how big I want the stalls, where the windows will be placed and all the hardware I need for their safety.”

She smiled. “That’s good because I wouldn’t have a clue. So what’s the problem?”

“The house. Jocelyn keeps emailing lists of questions I have to answer and I don’t have a clue. Do you know how many light fixtures there are in a kitchen alone? Overhead, pendant, under counter. There are switches and finishes and appliances. Paint colors, flooring.” He didn’t want to think about it all. “I don’t have time.”

“Or interest,” Annabelle said with a grin. “Poor Shane. You’re such a guy.”

“Meaning?”

“You really do want a house kit. One that comes fully finished and all you have to do is pick the color of beige you want the walls before you move in.”

“What’s wrong with beige?”

She laughed.

He hadn’t been kidding with the question, but okay.

“I take it Jocelyn is your contractor?” she asked.

“Yes. She’s ready to break ground on the house, but I haven’t approved the plans. I thought about asking my mom for help, but she and Glen are traveling and Heidi’s busy with the wedding.” There was more he wanted to say but he was having trouble remembering it. There was something about the way she looked at him. It made him want to pull her close and…

He cleared his throat. “You’d mentioned you really like to decorate. If you help me with the house, I won’t charge you for the riding lessons.”

Her green eyes brightened. “Seriously? I have a donation to pay for them, but I could put the money into the bookmobile fund. That would be so great.” She paused. “Are you sure? I feel like you wouldn’t be getting your money’s worth.”

“It’s a lot of house.”

“Then sure. I’m happy to help.” She moved close and linked arms with him. “Can we get a pink tub in the master? I’ve always wanted a pink tub.”

Her breast pressed into his arm. He tried telling himself he wasn’t sixteen anymore and that this wouldn’t be the highlight of his day. But there were parts that didn’t believe him.

“No pink.”

“But it’s pretty.”

They headed for the office.

Once inside, he carefully stepped away, needing the distance. He couldn’t think when she was close and if he wasn’t careful, he would be agreeing to a pink tub.

Jocelyn, a no-nonsense woman in her early fifties, was waiting for him in her small office. She looked capable, managed her crew with a fair but firm attitude and had agreed to a clause in the contract that basically gave him her firstborn if she didn’t complete the stable on time. Just as good, she’d come highly recommended.

“This is Annabelle,” he said by way of introduction.

“You didn’t tell me you were married,” Jocelyn said, holding out her callused hand. “I always need to meet the wife. I know who’s the real power player in a relationship.”

Annabelle laughed. “Not the wife. Just a friend who’s going to help Shane with all the girly stuff.”

They shook hands. Jocelyn grinned. “Got frightened by the list of finishes, right?”

“It was a longer list than I was expecting,” he admitted.

“It always is.” Jocelyn ran her hand through her short-cropped gray hair. “My advice is to give him maybe three choices in every category. No more. Men can’t handle it.”

Shane wanted to protest being talked about like that, but his bringing Annabelle along to help sort of proved Jocelyn’s point.

She led them into a conference room where the plans were laid out on a huge table.

“I need approval on the size of the house,” she said, pointing to two chairs next to each other. “We can move walls around if need be, but I want to start pulling permits and reserving equipment. In a perfect world, we’d dig out the foundation in a couple of weeks, when we start on the stables.”