Mr. Right, Next Door! Page 7

  The tub was large and white with four clawed feet. The kind built for taking a long relaxing soak. Sophie started to picture Grant doing just that then thought better of it. The less she thought of Grant in anything other than a work capacity, the better.

  She ran a hand along the smooth white rim. “Shouldn’t it be in a box or something?”

  “I bought it salvage.”

  Which, apparently, explained everything. “What now?”

  “Soon as Eddie, the driver, gets back, we carry it upstairs. Want to help?”

  She shook her head. “No thanks. I’ll stick with my nice light briefcase.”

  “Wimp.”

  “Maybe so, but at least I won’t be complaining about a bad back tomorrow morning.”

  “But if my back hurts, I’ll have this nice big tub to sink into.” Leaning over, he knocked on the side, causing a deep clanking noise. “Hear that? Exactly like the kind the original building had.”

  Though she couldn’t care less about antique bathtubs, Sophie nonetheless found herself caught up by the enthusiasm in his voice. The sparkle in his eyes didn’t hurt, either. “You certainly take your building history seriously.”

  “I’ve learned to.” He looked to their building facade. “Do you ever think about how blind we can be to what’s right in front of us? We think we’re seeing everything, but we miss so much. With old buildings it’s like, I don’t know, seeing an oyster and not noticing the pearl.”

  “Unless the oyster didn’t have a pearl to begin with,” Sophie replied. In her opinion, some pasts were better distanced from, or erased altogether. Take her own past, for example. She doubted there was very much worth polishing there.

  “There’s always a pearl.”

  Maybe with buildings, but in the larger scheme, she knew better. Things like lives were best built by looking toward the future. “For someone so young, you are way too romantic.”

  “For someone not that much older, you aren’t nearly enough.”

  He moved into her space, eyes heavy-lidded as though focused on her mouth. A mouth that had suddenly run dry. Breaking eye contact, she looked instead to the tub. Rubbing her hand along the cool white surface, she said, “I will admit, the tub does look comfortable.”

  “Want to try her on for size?”

  “I beg your pardon?” She laughed. “You want me to get in the tub?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “How about the fact it’s sitting on the sidewalk?”

  “So? Come on, give her a try.” Sophie started to protest, but Grant refused to take no for an answer. Instead, he took her hand and the electricity passing up her arm distracted her into silence.

  “Go ahead, sit,” he urged after he’d led her one leg at a time into the depth. “Stretch out your legs. I want to figure out the maximum height requirements.”

  “You can’t figure it out on your own?”

  “I already know I’m too tall. Besides, you owe me a favor, remember?”

  Did he have to bring that up? Or say the words in the same maddening murmur? “Couldn’t I make you another frozen pizza?”

  She hauled one leg over the side. “If my pantsuit gets dirty, you’re paying the dry cleaning bill.”

  “You won’t get dirty. Sit.”

  Sophie sat. The sides of the tub came up to her shoulders and neck. She felt like an idiot. “I mean really sit. Lean back and close your eyes.”

  She leaned back. She refused to close her eyes however. There were limits.

  Grant squatted next to her and rested his chin on the rim. “Can’t you picture yourself coming home after a hard day and relaxing in this baby? A candle, some bubble bath, your trusty rubber duck.”

  The last made her give a rather unladylike snort. “Somehow I don’t picture you as being the wine and bubble bath type.”

  His eyes grew to a deep dark brown. “I’m into all sorts of things with the right company,” he drawled.

  Sophie had to press her thighs together to keep her legs from tingling. All of a sudden, her position felt way too intimate in spite of their open surroundings. With Grant behind her, his face hovering next to her ear. The way it might be if they were actually lounging in the bathtub. Why did he have to make everything sound so sexual?

  “Can I get out now?” she asked, bolting upright. “The deliverymen are probably on their way back and I’m sure they’d prefer not to have to carry the extra weight.” Plus, she’d prefer not to have them arrive while she was stretched out on the sidewalk.

  “Sure, but for the record,” Grant said, steadying the tub as she scrambled back to her feet, “it wouldn’t be that much extra weight.”

  “Don’t you mean, by comparison?” She lifted a leg over the side, wobbling slightly on her heel as she stepped down onto the sidewalk.

  Grant caught her by the elbow. “Careful now,” he said, “I’ve got you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Pleasure’s all mine.”

  There he went again; drawling the simplest of words and making her body want to melt. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said, righting herself.

  Grant cocked his head. “Do what?”

  “Say things in that voice.”

  “What voice?”

  “You know darn well what voice I mean.” He was acting obtuse on purpose. “You sound like you’re flirting with me.”

  Understanding crested across his features along with a slow, sexy smile. “Oh, you mean this voice,” he said, automatically dropping to the texture of rough honey.

  “Yes, that voice,” she snapped. “Please stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not proper. I’m—”

  “A beautiful woman?”

  He thought her beautiful?

  Stay on point, Sophie. “A prospective customer,” she countered. “For that reason alone we should keep things professional.”

  He looked down into her face. “You make an interesting point.”

  A point that might hold more weight if she’d thought to break free of his touch. Her elbow was still nestled in his hand; the contact with her skin palpable despite the linen of her blazer.

  “I wasn’t aware my tone of voice had that much effect.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  Reluctantly she lifted her arm free. “But given I’m considering hiring you, I figure it’s important to be upfront with one another. After all, we’ve only known each other a couple days. I’d hate for either of us to misunderstand the other’s intentions. Or for anyone else to get the wrong impression, for that matter.”

  “Okay, now you’ve lost me.” He folded his arms. “Why would others get the wrong impression?”

  “You know…older woman, younger contractor.” He was so not going to make her say it aloud, was he?

  “You’re afraid people might think you’re some cougar taking advantage of a poor innocent boy.”

  “Hardly.” She may not have known Grant Templeton long, but innocent was definitely not a word she would use.

  “Oh, then you’re afraid they’ll think I’m taking advantage of the lonely spinster.”

  “I am not a spinster.” And he was pushing her buttons on purpose. She smacked his shoulder. “Be nice to your elders.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, chuckling. “Seriously, though, is it that important to you what people think?”

  “Yes.” Sophie replied without hesitation. He’d better believe it w
as important. After how hard she worked to become the woman she was? She wouldn’t apologize, either.

  Grant sat on the edge of the tub and regarded her. “Why?”

  “Long story.”

  “One of those.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle. “Maybe one day you’ll share it.”

  Doubtful. Suffice to say not every oyster had a pearl; some were man-made—or woman-made in this instance. As long as they weren’t scrutinized too carefully, no one would know the difference.

  “Are you sure your delivery people are coming back?” she asked, changing the subject. The tree-lined street had a number of people, but none looked dressed for moving a bathtub.

  “Good question. They better or you won’t be the only one who used this tub on the sidewalk. Only I won’t be dressed in a linen pantsuit.”

  That image would be seared into her brain for the night. “Hope you have bail money set,” she said, swallowing hard.

  Grant grinned. “Worried about answering late-night calls?”

  “Depends. If I answer, will I get a price break on my new window?”

  Their smiles connected and Sophie found herself getting lost in a dazzle of caramel warmth. Why was it again that she thought maintaining distance was a good idea?

  “Sophie?”

  David. In a flash the connection fell apart.

  Talking with Grant, she completely lost track, and naturally David was right on time. He wore a pale gray suit and his white shirt was crisp and wrinkle free as usual. His silver hair shined in the early evening sky.

  “I thought that was you standing out here.” Sophie resisted the urge to duck her head as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. Since when was she shy about David kissing her in public?

  Although the public didn’t usually involve a pair of caramel eyes watching her.

  A frown creased the lines of David’s high forehead. “Why is there a bathtub on your sidewalk?”

  “Grant’s waiting for the deliverymen to park their truck.”

  “And Sophie was graciously warning me about the dangers of bathing in public,” Grant added, causing Sophie to blush again.

  “A wise warning,” David replied. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

  Sophie had to give him credit for remaining unflappable about the whole situation. But then David was always unflappable. It was one of his best qualities. Watching the two men shake hands, she couldn’t help but be struck by their contrasting appearances. David with his smoothly combed silver hair and sharp patrician features; Grant, rugged and handsome, wearing jeans and an obscenely tight collared jersey. One looked the perfect lawyer, which of course he was. The other looked…

  Dangerous. With his pheromones and the way he demanded attention even in the most crowded and open of spaces. There was no better other word. He made David, whose long, lean frame stood the exact same height, look small.

  To her embarrassment, she’d missed what David had said.

  “Sophie?”

  “What?”

  “I asked if you wanted to bring your briefcase inside. We have a little while before we need to leave for the fundraiser. I thought I could beg a cocktail off you.”

  “Certainly easier than going out for one. I’m sure she has a fully stocked bar,” Grant remarked drily.

  Sophie felt another flush of warmth, this time exacerbated by David’s perplexed expression. Bending, she retrieved her briefcase from where she dropped it when climbing into the tub. Thankfully David hadn’t seen her doing that. “I wouldn’t mind a few moments to freshen up,” she said, changing the topic.

  “If you’d like, but you look fine to me.”

  “I have to agree,” Grant chimed in. He turned to David. “If you’d like, while you’re waiting you can help me with the tub. The extra set of hands could come in handy.”

  “I would, but I’m not really dressed for the job,” David replied.

  “That’s all right. If the deliverymen don’t show up, Sophie’s already said she’ll take my phone call. Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

  He’d dropped his voice on purpose. Sophie narrowed her eyes.

  Meanwhile, David was frowning again. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Never mind. I’ll explain it to you inside.” Turning her back on the grinning contractor, she hooked her arm in David’s, leading him up the steps. “Right after I turn off my phone.”

  * * *

  “I’m confused,” David repeated once Sophie closed her front door. “I thought you said your neighbor shut the door in your face.”

  “He did. We’ve buried the hatchet, so to speak.” Although if he kept it up, the hatchet might not stay buried for long. Bad enough Grant seemed to enjoy pushing her buttons so much, but did she have to react so easily? Every comment, every look, every touch. Her body was still overheated from their conversation earlier. “In fact, he’s the one who fixed my water problem.”

  “I thought you said it was a plumber,” David said, still frowning and watching Grant through the front windows. Sophie tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen.

  “It was, but Grant was the one who called him. He’s a contractor—historical renovator, really,” she corrected automatically, “and the plumber was one of his contacts.”

  “Oh, I see. But why was he making jokes about you having a well-stocked bar?”

  “He’s been making fun of that since he had dinner here the other night. Pizza,” she added for David’s scowl’s benefit. “After he looked at the pipes.”

  She poured him a glass of Pinot Grigio. “It’s a long and complicated story. I could have sworn I told you all this.”

  “Must have slipped your mind with all the work,” David offered, accepting the glass.

  “Must have,” she agreed, putting the bottle on the counter with a guilty thud. The memory of how she almost kissed Grant in this very room weighed heavily on her.

  “Turns out Grant worked on this building when it was being converted into co-ops,” she said. “I’m thinking of having him do some work on my kitchen.”

  There. Couldn’t say she didn’t disclose that piece of information.

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” David asked.

  After the tub business a few minutes ago, no. Somehow, though, she didn’t think that’s what David meant. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “What do you know about him? I mean the man’s got a bathtub on your sidewalk. How do you know if he’s even reliable?”

  “Just because the man bought a tub from a junk dealer doesn’t make him a bad contractor.” One thing for her to have doubts; she didn’t think David needed to get all high-and-mighty or insult her decision making process.

  “It’s hardly the first time I’ve hired someone,” she added. “I think I’m capable of discerning whether or not the man can add a window properly.”

  “I’m sorry,” David replied. “You’re absolutely right. He threw me with all that nonsense about late-night phone calls. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was flirting with you.”

  “No,” Sophie said. “That’s just his way. I think he thinks it’s charming.” Not to mention as sexy as hell.

  “Well, I know you’ll make a careful decision. You’re nothing if not levelheaded.”

  “Thank you.” After how easily her resolve melted on the sidewalk, she wondered. Still she offered David her warmest smile. She had enough talking—and thinking�
��about her hot man-child neighbor for the day. Time to focus on the man she should be focused on. The one standing across from her.

  The one who didn’t make her kitchen feel tight and narrow.

  * * *

  “The delivery guys showed up right after they went inside,” Grant relayed later that evening. “Good thing. I would have felt like a moron sitting on the edge of my tub waving goodbye. Probably would have said some smart-mouthed comment, too, just to see her reaction.” He’d developed a thing for the way her cheeks flooded with color. Better looking than any cosmetic.

  Next to him, Nate Silverman sat propped in his hospital bed, eyes aimed at the game playing out on his TV. On the screen, a ball passed the diving shortstop’s glove.

  “Tampa’s been hot lately. Bet they make a run in September. Your Sox better watch out.”

  He sat back in the green leather chair and fiddled with the stitching along the arm. “The guy Sophie was going out with? Complete corporate shill. You remember the type. Designer suit, three-hundred-dollar shoes.” The way they used to dress, only with silver hair. Wonder if he made Sophie blush deeply, too?

  An odd, angry tightness gripped his chest at the thought. “Bet he’s dull,” he said aloud to Nate. “He looked it.”

  No, he looked exactly the way he expected a guy Sophie would date to look. She no doubt had a whole checklist of predetermined qualities. Wasn’t that something someone with a master plan would do?

  “I really don’t know why I’m so fascinated with her. Besides the fact she’s gorgeous. I think it’s because…” His gaze grew distant. “You know the idea that people cross your path for a reason?” Something drew him to her. The answer lay right in front of him, too, only he couldn’t see it. What else was new. He was good at being blind to what stood right before his eyes. “Maybe I’m supposed to show her how to loosen up.” Or maybe she was here to remind him. To keep him from screwing up again.