When he parked the truck and positioned the ladder against the side of the house, he wasn’t surprised when she came out to glare at him. “Why on earth are you making so much noise and what are you doing to my house?”
With her shoulder-length blond hair in delightful disarray, her eyes soft with sleep and her feet bare, she looked as if she’d just crawled out of bed. She also looked sexy as hell.
“Good morning to you, too.” He grinned as he grabbed one of the scrapers. “Did you stay up late last night making cookies?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“What kind?”
She shook her head. “Don’t change the subject. What are you doing here at the god-awful hour of seven-thirty in the morning? And why is that ladder propped against the side of my house?”
“One thing at a time, darlin’,” he said, climbing the ladder. “Contrary to popular belief, seven-thirty isn’t all that early. Did you know the lumber yard and hardware store here in Devil’s Fork open every morning at six?”
Glaring at him, she propped her fists on her shapely hips. “Since I’ve never had occasion to go into either establishment, no, I didn’t know that.”
He scraped off a long strip of peeling paint close to the peak of the roof. “The other day I noticed that the paint on this place had started to crack and peel.”
“So you just decided to take it upon yourself to paint my house?” Clearly fit to be tied, she looked mighty damned cute standing there in an oversize pink T-shirt and a pair of mint-green camp shorts, tapping her bare foot against the hard-packed dirt.
“You can’t do it,” he said as he continued to remove strips of weathered paint from the board siding. “And it needs to be done before winter sets in.”
“It could wait until after I have the baby.”
He shook his head. “You’ll be too busy once the baby gets here. Besides, I might as well do something constructive on my days off.”
“But I can’t afford this right now.”
“You don’t have to pay for it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ve already taken care of it.”
She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. “Tell me how much you’ve spent and I’ll pay you back.”
He grinned. “Nope.”
“Are you always this—” she stopped as if searching for the right word “—this meddlesome?”
He stopped scraping to stare down at her. “Are you always this stubborn when someone is trying to help you?”
Rubbing her temples with her fingertips, she shook her head. “I do appreciate you trying to help. But I can’t afford all the improvements right now and I can’t let you pay for them.”
“Consider it a housewarming gift,” he said, sending more flakes of paint falling to the ground.
“That’s absurd.” She frowned. “You’re newer in town than I am.”
He chuckled. “Minor technicality.”
“I can’t let you do this.”
“You can’t stop me.” He climbed down the ladder, then, placing the scraper on the tailgate of the truck, walked over to stand in front of her. “Look, there are things around here that need attention and you’re not able to do them in your condition.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you before, I’m pregnant, not disabled.”
“Whatever. You can’t do them and I need something to keep me busy on my days off.”
He could tell he was wearing down her resistance when she sighed heavily. “Yes, but it isn’t fair for you to pay for the materials to make improvements to my house.”
Unable to resist taking her into his arms, he smiled as he pulled her to him, then pushed the brim of his ball cap up out of the way. “If it bothers you that much, why don’t we strike a deal?”
She looked suspicious. “What kind of agreement are you talking about?”
“I’ll do some work around your house and you can make me a few home-cooked meals.” He used his index finger to raise her chin until their gazes met. “Does that sound fair?”
“Not really. I still think that I’m getting the better end of this deal.”
Her soft body pressed to his was playing hell with his good intentions, and before he could stop himself, he lowered his mouth to hers. “Throw in a couple dozen brownies—” he brushed her perfect lips with his “—some chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies—” she parted for him on a soft sigh “—and we’ll call it even,” he finished as he deepened the kiss.
The combination of Callie’s sweet taste and the fact that she was kissing him back sent blood surging through his veins and had his lower body tightening with a need that threatened to buckle his knees. Never in all his thirty-two years had he been aroused as fast or as completely as he was at that very moment.
But when she raised her arms to his neck and tangled her fingers in the hair at his nape, her featherlight touch caused a jolt of hunger to fill every fiber of his being and the need to touch her became overwhelming. Sliding his hand beneath the tail of her T-shirt, when his calloused palm met the satiny skin along her side, his heart thumped hard against his ribs. They’d been so embroiled in their argument over him doing repairs to her house that he hadn’t paid attention to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
When he cupped her full breast, then gently slid the pad of his thumb over her tight nipple, her moan of pleasure mingled with his groan of frustration. What the hell did he think he was doing?
Not only was he making out with his flight nurse for God and everybody to see, she was pregnant with another man’s child. He wasn’t looking for a lasting relationship with any woman. And Callie wasn’t a woman who engaged in meaningless flings.
Reluctantly removing his hand from beneath her shirt, he broke the kiss to stare into her wide violet eyes. “Darlin’, I think you’d better go back in the house and I’m going to get back to work.”
Her porcelain cheeks colored a deep rose and she backed away from him. “I’ll be…gone for…a little while,” she said, sounding out of breath. “I need to go…to the grocery store.”
He frowned. “What for? Your cabinets and freezer are full of food.”
She took several steps backward. “I have to see if the store carries fifty-pound bags of flour.”