Who's the Daddy (Crescent Cove 3)

His eyebrow quirked. “As I said, no payment is necessary.”

“I’m hot.” His smirk made me roll my eyes. “Not hot for you, you jerk. Just hot. It’s like seventy degrees and the sun is blasting in here.”

“Don’t stop stripping on my account. I’ll consider it a tip.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“So my mother tells me.” He used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face and I lost my train of thought. I really hadn’t had enough time to catalog all of…that on Saturday night.

I mean, it was still burned into my retinas, but it was more a hazy bit of insanity than anything I could pull together with any clarity. But wow, were there actually that many abdominal muscles in the human body?

I thought it was a six-pack.

That looked like way more.

He dropped his shirt and the smirk was back, dammit. I turned away from him and dumped my bag in the one free chair I had in my living room. The sound of him shoving the mattress across my floor had me rushing after him.

“Would you just wait a second?” I tripped over a pile of clothes I’d been sorting for another load of laundry. And hello, my bras were draped everywhere. I quickly snatched them off the rack and stuffed them in a box.

He flipped the mattress onto the box spring. “You want it between the windows or over there?”

I pushed my hair out of my face. “I don’t know. It’s so big. It takes up the whole freaking room.”

“I picked out a headboard you could clip lights to. My…I’ve seen it done before.”

My what? Girlfriend? Sister? Friend?

Not important. He couldn’t have a girlfriend, not if he’d bounced on me. He didn’t seem like that kind of guy. Otherwise, it was none of my business.

I glanced over at him. “That’s a good idea. Especially with how small the room is.” I twirled around and moved another box on top of the first box and shoved them them both to the other side of the room. “Yeah, between the windows.”

He shoved it over then crossed to me. “You look good.” He rubbed one of my rapidly wilting curls between his fingers before flicking it over my shoulder. “Be right back with the headboard.”

When he was gone, I spun around and winced at the pile of underwear I hadn’t seen before. I popped those into one of the boxes and caught sight of my face in the mirror I’d used for makeup. Look good? Was he blind?

I grabbed my cutoffs and a T-shirt and quickly shucked my school clothes. I was buttoning my shorts just as he walked into my room. His blue eyes went hot and my freaking nipples went on high alert. And here I’d thought the scumbag clothes would bring down the awareness building between us.

Nope.

Maybe it was just the wide bed dominating the room.

He lowered the huge headboard to the floor and left again, this time coming back with a tool set. He dropped it on the bed and flipped it open, taking out a utility knife. He stripped the thing in seconds.

I was trying not to imagine how quickly he could slice off my clothes. No need to go there. He’d done an admirable job a few days ago. Goodness, I didn’t need to think about that with the stupid bed right there.

He lifted the headboard and moved to the windows. His freaking arms were bulging. He didn’t look like he was particularly huge, but there was no denying all the ropey muscles under his simple Ford T-shirt.

“Can you hand me the drill?” He poked his head up from behind the headboard. “And the long screws.”

Drill.

Jeez. Get a grip, Kelsey.

I unhooked the large, very professional drill from the big yellow case and brought it over to him. I wasn’t sure on the size of the bit—and the only reason I knew the term was from watching HGTV. I took the trio with me and rounded the bed and headboard into the small space he’d made for himself.

He was laying across the floor and his T-shirt had peeked up again. More eight-pack action for my viewing pleasure. He held his hand out and I put the drill in his hand, then opened the bits for him. He gave me a half smile and took one then the screw from me before he crammed himself under the bed to attach it to the frame.

It only took three minutes, but I was suddenly very glad he’d done the work for me. Three minutes for him would have been more like thirty with many swear words and broken nails for me.