through the ranks at Ash Builders, but she knew in his early twenties he'd been a drywaller, which he still often lamented as "the filthiest work on the face of the earth." So she sometimes feared he was too trusting of the subs, too sympathetic. Well, she supposed it was out of her hands; she just batched the invoices and moved the money around. Having completed her last task of the day, she flipped off the desk lamp, powered down the computer, and headed for the bedroom. Somewhere outside, Nick Armstrong still painted her house, but hopefully he would leave soon. After that, Carolyn was coming over for a swim, but Lauren had cautioned her at lunch, "Don't come before six, okay?"
She loved her pool, but had no intention of prancing around in a swimsuit while her unnerving painter lurked nearby. After returning from lunch, in fact, she'd made a point of coming inside and staying there, and she planned to see him as little as possible while he worked on her house. She knew it might be a few weeks, but equal parts humiliation and unhealthy attraction made it seem wise to run for cover as long as Nick Armstrong was nearby. She was done lusting for her painter-she'd come to the conclusion that if she stayed away from him and kept reminding herself what a smug, arrogant guy he was, it wouldn't be all that hard.
Lunch with Carolyn at a bistro on Clearwater Beach had improved her mood. Afterward, they'd crossed the street to the sand, wading in the tide while little kids constructed sand mounds and searched for seashells. They'd talked about maybe going skiing in Utah next winter for a total change of scenery, and they'd not talked about sex, or men, which had made it even easier to get the painter off her mind. In fact, Carolyn had seemed like her old self, the friend she'd palled around with in high school and at U of F, before Carolyn had started sleeping with random men and partying like there was no tomorrow. Sometimes she worried about Carolyn.
With two hours until Carolyn's arrival, she decided to change into something comfortable, then indulge in a book and a cup of tea. Shedding her clothes down to her bra and panties, she reached for her beige kimono, cinching it in front before settling on the divan in her bedroom with the latest best seller.
She'd just gotten involved in her book when the doorbell rang. She looked in the general direction of the front door in disbelief, then glanced at her bedside clock. It wasn't even five yet. Which meant-h God, it had to be Nick Armstrong. But what could he want? Did he plan to be rude to her some more while devouring her with those dark eyes? Her first thought was to ignore it, to stay right where she was. But he probably knew good and well she was home. Damn it Dropping her book, she tightened the sash on her kimono and was about to head toward the door ... when she caught sight of herself in a full-length mirror. Good Lord, she thought, suddenly frozen in place. If she'd seen herself yesterday morning before answering the door, she never would have done it in this. Not even thinking it was Phil, and certainly not if she'd suspected a total stranger stood on the other side. She hadn't realized how the shiny fabric clung to her. And she was just about to decide not to answer the door like this now, when the chime sounded again, impatiently. "Damn you, Nick Armstrong," she muttered, heading from the bedroom to descend the stairs. "I'm coming." A few seconds later, she yanked open the door ready to do battle, even though she didn't fully know why.
The good news? It wasn't her ocean god.
The bad-it was Carolyn. And Holly, Mike, and Jimmy.
Lauren didn't know whether to feel relieved or irritated. but leaned toward the latter. Swell, now four more people have s~en me in this clingy robe. Not that these particular people would bat an eye.
"Surprise!" Carolyn said with her ever-bright smile.
"I ran into these guys and invited them along, thought we'd make it a pool party. Hope you
She loved her pool, but had no intention of prancing around in a swimsuit while her unnerving painter lurked nearby. After returning from lunch, in fact, she'd made a point of coming inside and staying there, and she planned to see him as little as possible while he worked on her house. She knew it might be a few weeks, but equal parts humiliation and unhealthy attraction made it seem wise to run for cover as long as Nick Armstrong was nearby. She was done lusting for her painter-she'd come to the conclusion that if she stayed away from him and kept reminding herself what a smug, arrogant guy he was, it wouldn't be all that hard.
Lunch with Carolyn at a bistro on Clearwater Beach had improved her mood. Afterward, they'd crossed the street to the sand, wading in the tide while little kids constructed sand mounds and searched for seashells. They'd talked about maybe going skiing in Utah next winter for a total change of scenery, and they'd not talked about sex, or men, which had made it even easier to get the painter off her mind. In fact, Carolyn had seemed like her old self, the friend she'd palled around with in high school and at U of F, before Carolyn had started sleeping with random men and partying like there was no tomorrow. Sometimes she worried about Carolyn.
With two hours until Carolyn's arrival, she decided to change into something comfortable, then indulge in a book and a cup of tea. Shedding her clothes down to her bra and panties, she reached for her beige kimono, cinching it in front before settling on the divan in her bedroom with the latest best seller.
She'd just gotten involved in her book when the doorbell rang. She looked in the general direction of the front door in disbelief, then glanced at her bedside clock. It wasn't even five yet. Which meant-h God, it had to be Nick Armstrong. But what could he want? Did he plan to be rude to her some more while devouring her with those dark eyes? Her first thought was to ignore it, to stay right where she was. But he probably knew good and well she was home. Damn it Dropping her book, she tightened the sash on her kimono and was about to head toward the door ... when she caught sight of herself in a full-length mirror. Good Lord, she thought, suddenly frozen in place. If she'd seen herself yesterday morning before answering the door, she never would have done it in this. Not even thinking it was Phil, and certainly not if she'd suspected a total stranger stood on the other side. She hadn't realized how the shiny fabric clung to her. And she was just about to decide not to answer the door like this now, when the chime sounded again, impatiently. "Damn you, Nick Armstrong," she muttered, heading from the bedroom to descend the stairs. "I'm coming." A few seconds later, she yanked open the door ready to do battle, even though she didn't fully know why.
The good news? It wasn't her ocean god.
The bad-it was Carolyn. And Holly, Mike, and Jimmy.
Lauren didn't know whether to feel relieved or irritated. but leaned toward the latter. Swell, now four more people have s~en me in this clingy robe. Not that these particular people would bat an eye.
"Surprise!" Carolyn said with her ever-bright smile.
"I ran into these guys and invited them along, thought we'd make it a pool party. Hope you
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