Kate would have to take her word for it, since she never followed things like fashion as diligently as her friend. “Well, your mother is crazy. You’re beautiful, and I’m not exactly seeing Brad complaining.”
“That’s hard to do when he’s in Europe all the time.” Payton reached across the table and grabbed Kate’s dill pickle. “But I’m dying to meet Dominic. He has to come if only to appease my curiosity.”
The prospect of having Dominic at her side, ready to slay dragons—or in this case, sharp-tongued socialites—on her behalf, filled Kate with tentative excitement. She did have one dress that she’d been waiting to show off, and to see Dominic’s look of appreciation when he saw her—even if things were just pretend—might be something to look forward to after all.
She smiled back at her friend. “I’ll try my best.”
…
Kate pulled up her driveway the next evening, trying to settle the fluttering in her belly at the sight of Dominic’s truck parked at the curb in front of her house. He hadn’t been able to come by yesterday due to some unexpected problems at the site from the weekend, but he’d texted her at three today to confirm he was there and working demolition on her bathroom. He had wanted to warn her that it was going to look worse before it got better. But anything had to be better than the Pepto-Bismol–colored tile, and she was looking forward to seeing the changes.
And a certain someone.
The door was unlocked, and she dropped her keys on the table and climbed the stairs, following the sounds of destruction. She found him pulling drywall down with gloved hands, and he didn’t appear to have noticed her arrival. She leaned against the doorway and appreciated the scene.
Broken pink tiles scattered around the floor along with more dust and debris than she’d have thought possible. But that wasn’t what had her attention. It was the sight of his strong, bulging biceps as he smashed a section of the wall with the sledgehammer, often stopping to pull at the drywall with both hands, that had her pulse racing. And the beads of sweat sliding down his neck and through the black T-shirt he wore. Who knew sweat could actually be so sexy?
She must have been breathing too heavily, because suddenly he stilled and glanced back to see her.
“How long you going to stand there checking me out? I warned you it wasn’t going to be pretty.”
That was a matter of opinion.
…
“I can’t believe you’ve never tried this,” Dominic said and took another bite of his sloppy joe, enjoying the mix of sweet with salty and tangy.
Kate looked at his sandwich and visibly shuddered, and he tried not to laugh. “It’s not so much the sandwich, but the piles of potato chips you’ve smashed on top. Are you trying to kill yourself?”
He ignored that last bit. “Come on. You can’t knock it until you try it.” He held his concoction in front of her. She eyed it with suspicion but finally took the tiniest bite, the crunch sounding through the kitchen. He stared a little too long at her mouth as she chewed, remembering how it had felt under his and wondering if he’d ever experience that again before this thing was over. He definitely was hoping s
o, even though he knew it was a bad idea.
She looked thoughtful. “Okay. So it’s not horrible.”
“That’s what I thought.” He wolfed down another bite, aware of Kate still watching him. Something she’d been doing a lot of since she got home, even though she would look away or pretend to be looking somewhere else when he tried to catch her. But it wasn’t nearly as often as he’d been sneaking glances at her, only less obvious.
Like they were both in junior high. It was pathetic.
He blamed the damn ponytail, and the way her long red hair flipped around when she turned her head. The way her lips parted when she stared at him, as if she was remembering that amazing kiss from the other night. Or the way she flushed for no apparent reason, making him wonder what she might be thinking.
But he knew a small part of it was that he liked to look at her. To fill the ache he’d been experiencing since they’d parted Sunday night.
They had spent an amazing weekend together, though. It was perfectly normal for him to want to see her again. They’d become good friends. Right?
He swallowed some soda down. “So how were things in the office? Was everyone buzzing about who the dashingly sexy guy was at your side all weekend?”
“That’s right, I was besieged by your fan club when I hit the break room for coffee. They’ve even posted a picture of you on the fridge in homage.”
“Yeah, I should have warned you about the effect I have on people. They practically find me irresistible.” He ignored her cute snort as she covered her mouth. “In another interesting development, my mom called me today. Told me that Daisy set up an appointment with you for later this week. She’s already started gathering the documents you requested.”
“I can’t confirm or deny that. It’s a matter of attorney-client privilege.” But she smiled, confirming that it was true.
“Don’t worry. I know if you’re on the case, she’ll be in good hands. Just make sure you hit that asshole where it hurts—his bank account.”
“I’ll give it my best. Which actually reminds me…I had lunch with Payton yesterday and she reminded me that I hadn’t RSVP’d yet for her engagement party.”
“Nice segue there. I can totally see how those two things would be related. Wait. You’re her maid of honor. Aren’t you already obligated to go to this thing?”