Marissa #2
My gaze returns to his and my lips part as we stare at each other.
I’m aware that I’m shamelessly ogling this man, in front of my children no less.
My brain is screaming at me to look away, but I can’t quite convince my eyes to cooperate.
It’s a ridiculous reaction, especially for someone who’s spent her career surrounded by beautiful men.
After twenty years in the industry, I’m generally immune to their allure.
Once you realize what it takes to maintain their physique—strict diets and intense sleep schedules and skincare routines that rival your own—they lose their appeal.
But there’s something different about this guy, something natural and undeniably masculine.
I wonder fleetingly what he smells like.
Probably leather and sandalwood and the ability to split a tree trunk in three confident strokes.
His eyes widen slightly and then I see it, the faintest flicker of recognition.
My heart deflates a bit, and I realize how much I’d hoped to maintain anonymity.
To meet people here as a stranger, to have them get to know me without any preconceived notions.
I feel a glimmer of disappointment, followed by bitter acceptance.
What did I think was going to happen? When was the last time I went anywhere without being recognized?
He blinks and the look of familiarity vanishes as quickly as it appeared. He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his voice is much softer than I expected. “You’ll have to forgive my brother. He isn’t used to talking to humans.”
His brother. It’s then that I finally notice the Legacy emblem on the front of his shirt. Understanding dawns on me. I had only briefly read the “About Me” portion of the company’s website but I remember they are a family. There’s Toby, the carpenter; Shelby, who handles interior design, and then—
“I’m Jesse,” he says with a curt nod. I notice he doesn’t extend a hand for me to shake, and it’s probably for the best. “The foreman.”
“Oh! Um … it’s nice to meet you.” I keep trying to look away, but so far, I’m not having much luck. I’m still lost in those murky blue eyes when Isla’s voice snaps me out of whatever spell this man has cast on me.
“Mom,” she says, her voice taking on a whiny edge. “Do you have a Band-Aid?” My gaze snags on her skinned knee, the small sliver of blood peeking through a cluster of dirt.
“What happened?” I ask.
“There was a loose stone on the path to the dock, and I tripped over it.” There’s a trace of smug satisfaction in her expression, like she’s already proved the house isn’t as great as I’d pitched it.
My stomach dips with a familiar sense of guilt. I shouldn’t have let Isla wander through the backyard unsupervised. But Levi’s stimming and the noise in the house claimed my attention, and once again, my eldest and most competent child got the short end of the stick.
I break eye contact before she can read the look on my face, and start fumbling through my purse.
“Rinse it off in the sink,” I say. “I’ve got a first-aid kit in here.”
“Great,” she mumbles. “Also, when are we going to eat? I’m starving.”
Her words elicit a rumble in my own belly. I turn my wrist to check my watch. It’s four in the afternoon, but with the time difference, it’s lunchtime in LA.
“Hungry,” Levi insists, tugging at my pant leg. We’ve only been here for five minutes and my family is already injured and underfed. I am a negligent mother.
“How about this? We’ll quickly unpack and then we can go into town and find a place to grab a bite.”
“Why don’t you let us bring in your bags?” Jesse offers. “You can unpack when you get back. In the meantime, there’s a great burger joint about five minutes from here.”
“Oh. That would be great,” I say. Relief floods through me.
That is, until I realize he’s giving me the celebrity treatment.
He probably thinks I expect this, that I’m the type of person who needs to be catered to.
Mortification scrapes over me. I’m not sure why, but it’s suddenly very important that he doesn’t see me this way.
That he doesn’t think I’m a spoiled brat who thinks everyone has a duty to accommodate her.
He must sense my hesitation because he adds, “It’s not a big deal. Really, it’s the least we can do since we’re in your hair longer than expected.”
Oh. Maybe I’m overthinking this. I register that he still hasn’t said anything about knowing who I am. Maybe he doesn’t recognize me after all.
I toss him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
He extends an open palm toward me, and I take a moment to study it.
It’s rough and calloused, yet sturdy and capable.
My first thought is that this is a man who’s good with his hands.
I wonder what else he can do with them. God.
I need to get my mind out of the gutter.
I haven’t been celibate for that long, have I?
“Um, can I have your key?” he says after a beat, and I realize that I am once again gawking like a teenage girl. There’s a flit of amusement in his expression. “For the bags.”
“Yes. Right,” I manage. Get it together, Marissa. I hope the mortification isn’t written all over my face.
I grab the key from my purse, and he gives me a polite smile when I drop it into his palm.
“We’ll wrap things up for the day while you’re out and be gone by the time you get home. I’m sure you’ll want some time to settle in. And as my brother was saying, we should be finished by next week. Since you don’t need anything beyond flooring, it’s a pretty quick job.”
My gaze drifts from his and I do a quick survey of my surroundings. As I take in the chipped cabinetry and the crack in the kitchen window, I find myself wondering if the tub faucet upstairs still leaks.
“I mean, do you think there’s anything else that needs to be done?
Now that I’m here, I can see that the house could use a little TLC.
Maybe some fresh paint and new cabinets?
I’d be happy to hear some ideas from your team.
” The words are out of my mouth before I even register them.
What am I doing? Five minutes ago, I was counting the minutes until the crew was out of my house, and now, I’m trying to prolong their stay?
I’m like a pervy director who suddenly needs multiple retakes of a sex scene.
Am I really that hard up for the company of an attractive man?
Jesse’s eyebrows shoot up. It’s clear this is not the response he was expecting. In fairness, it’s also not the response I was expecting.
“Oh, um … sure. Those things are mostly cosmetic, so we can loop in my sister-in-law, Shelby. She does our interior design. I’m sure she’d be happy to sketch out some ideas for you. Maybe she can swing by next week, check the place out?”
“Shelby is the GOAT!” Toby calls from the other room, and I can’t help but breathe out a laugh. I still can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something about these guys that feels comfortable. Like nothing too terrible could ever happen in their presence.
One corner of Jesse’s mouth rises. “Great. I’ll let her know you’re interested. In the meantime, I’ll grab your stuff and then you can be on your way.”