Read Online Can't Stand the Heat by Shelly Ellis - Free Book Online Page A

tossed her purse inside. She turned back around to face him and pushed out her chest, giving him quite the eyeful. “Nothing would surprise me.”
    â€œNothing?”
    â€œI cater to many tastes. It’s my specialty.”
    He shivered.
    â€œDon’t be scared, Hank. What’s that old saying? You never know until you try. Maybe I can give you everything you need.”
    â€œEverything?”
    â€œAnd more.” She winked. “I’m here to service you . . . and trust me, I aim to please. I’ll do it on my knees if I have to.”
    He hungrily licked his lips again. Stephanie could practically see the kinky fantasies that danced in his head.
    â€œHow about dinner next Sunday at eight o’clock? I’ll bring my list with me.”
    â€œSure! You can pick me up at the address on my card.”
    He nodded and smiled, tucking the card into his inner suit-jacket pocket. “I’ll see you at eight o’clock.”
    â€œI look forward to it, Hank.”
    Stephanie watched as he walked down to the end of the driveway and then made a right. Inside, she did a little jig.
    Her sisters could battle over Cris Weaver if they wanted to. Meanwhile, she would focus on lower-hanging fruit and put her efforts into seducing the wealthy Deacon Hank Montgomery.

Chapter 5
    â€œS o explain to me why this is going to take three more weeks?” Cris Weaver asked as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and glowered down at Bill, his general contractor.
    The portly man began to fidget. He adjusted his baseball cap and hoisted his jeans under his round belly. Sweat stains had formed earlier on his gray T-shirt around his belly button and under his armpits in the hot sun, but he was sweating even more now under the lavalike heat of Cris’s glare. Standing there, those stains seemed to grow by another two inches.
    He had a right to be scared. At that moment, Cris looked less like an annoyed homeowner who was bitching out his contractor and more like an angry Samoan warrior ready to do battle.
    â€œWell, the custom cabinets won’t arrive for another week, Mr. Weaver,” Bill nearly shouted over the clamor of buzz saws and hammers. “They’re late. I can’t make them come any faster than they already are. We can’t outline the granite countertops in your kitchen until we get the cabinets in. So we gotta wait two or three more weeks before your kitchen’s done.”
    Cris nodded but still narrowed his dark eyes. “And why are the cabinets late? Is there a problem with the shipment?”
    â€œNo, nothin’ like that. They’re on time. It’s just . . .” Bill nervously licked his lips.
    â€œJust . . . what?”
    â€œWell, the guy who measured the kitchen jiggered some of the numbers.” Bill dropped his watery blue eyes to gaze at Cris’s brown leather oxfords. It was easier to do that than to stare up at the man who towered over him by a good eight inches. “When I saw the numbers on paper later, I thought it looked funny. We had to measure it again. So we put a stop order on the first set of cabinets and ordered the cabinets again. They hadn’t started building the first set yet, so it won’t cost you extra. But it just messed up the time line a bit.”
    Cris sighed. Now he had the real answer for why his kitchen was delayed.
    Bill looked up and shook his head. “It wasn’t my fault, Mr. Weaver! I know I’m supposed to watch over these guys, but I can’t be a million places at one time! This is a big property with a lot of workers and—”
    â€œI’m not paying you to be a million places at once. I’m paying you just to make sure things run smoothly. This is the seventh time that something has been delayed because of some subcontractor’s mistake. I’m paying some of these guys to do the same job twice that should have been done right the first time. All of this means more