“You actually got it? You downloaded the app? Oh God, I was just joking!” I laugh, but deep down, I’m slightly hurt. I didn’t actually want him to talk to other women. Hello, I’m right here.

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs and goes back to work.

I start on sawing my first block of wood. “Like this?” I ask him, still unsure of myself.

He stops what he’s doing to look and shakes his head. “Close, but here, let me show you something,” he says. He sets down his tools and walks over behind me. He sits down and leans over my shoulder. “See this line?” he asks me. He’s so close to me. His lips are right next to my cheek.

“Yeah, I see it,” I say, turning my cheek slightly. My shoulder brushes against his chest and I nearly jump.

“You okay?” He laughs.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Keep teaching me. I’m learning,” I say.

“Just aim for that line. You were close before, but you have to line it up just right, and keep steady. But always be aware of where your fingers are. Seriously, I don’t want you losing your thumb when you cut,” he says.

“Okay,” I tell him.

He squeezes my shoulders and smiles. Endorphins and feelings of goodness spread throughout my body. I have to shift my stance as I feel myself turn wet. “You’re doing really good. Trust me,” he says.

“I trust you.” I smile. I trust him with more tools than this.

“You’re doing better than I did when I first started,” he says.

“That’s because I’ve got a good teacher,” I tell him. I run my hands across my jeans. My palms have grown sweaty. My face is clammy. I have to take a deep breath before I line everything up again. He’s watching me and I’m just getting so fucking nervous.

“You’ve got this,” he smiles.

I line it up, turn the saw on, and let it go. “I did it!” I laugh. He gives me a wink that sends shivers up and down my spine. I need to excuse myself because I’m practically soaking my panties at this point.

“Hey boss,” Hanson says, “I forgot to tell you that the inspector came by when you were out buying tools.”

“The inspector? He just came, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, like six months ago. We’re overdue for an inspection,” Hanson says, biting his lip.

“Shit,” Michael mutters and looks over at me.

“What?” I ask him. “Is everything alright?”

“We moved locations after my divorce,” I tell her. “It was cheaper to work out of my garage. Not exactly legal, though.”

“I didn’t tell him shit,” Hanson says. “Told him this was just for storage and hobby work, but we’re going to have to figure out a better story, fast.”

“How long do we have?” Michael asks.

“Two weeks at the most, maybe.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“What’s so illegal about working at home?” I ask.

“Well, for one, this place is a fire trap,” he says. “Not that you’re in any danger, but the city might disagree with me on that.”

“It could work,” Hanson says. “But we’ll need to clean the place up better and study the regulations.”

“I’m on it,” Michael says, jumping out of his seat. “I’ll talk to my wife.”

Great. His wife. “Ex-wife,” Hanson corrects him.

“Whatever. Susan.” He shakes his head. “Lord, help me.”

“Good luck, brother,” Hanson laughs. Michael walks out of the garage without looking back at me.

“So, what, does he have to report to her at every hour of the day?” I ask Hanson.

“Well, they own the business together,” he says.

“They do?” I’m shocked. Seriously, shocked. “She’s my boss?”

“Emily, she’s his boss.” He laughs. “No, but for real, she’s a real stone cold bitch. Worst of all, she doesn’t even work. She sits on the couch all day at her new guy’s place, drinking wine and spending half the money. It’s crazy shit.”

“Sounds like it.” I sigh. Whatever desire I had has now shifted into something similar to disgust and annoyance.

“Why’re you worried about it?” he suddenly asks me.

The question takes me aback. “I’m not. I’m mainly just curious,” I lie.

“Mmhm.” He smiles, hammers in a few nails, and takes off his goggles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask him.

He laughs and flips his hair back. “It means that I don’t believe you,” he says.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to believe me. It’s not a requirement or law,” I say.

“That’s true. It isn’t.”

I saw another piece of wood and put it into the pile, ready to be sanded soon. After a few minutes of silent work, I stop the machine and look at him again. “What’s your problem?” I ask him.

“My problem? Absolutely nothing,” he says.

“Yeah? Well, it seems like you have one, like maybe you don’t enjoy me being here or something,” I say.

He rolls his eyes, but then turns serious. “Listen, I’m the one who vouched for you. Michael wasn’t going to hire you. We had like fifty people send us their resumés. I’m the one who got you this job, so you should be thanking me, rather than fighting me.”

“You got me this job? Seriously?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Well, yeah. Michael needs a woman around him who’s not so… bitchy,” he says.

“So you got me to help him out?” I laugh. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “It’s pretty fucking obvious at this point.”

“Back off,” I warn him.

“What’re you two fighting about?” Michael asks, as soon as he hears us.

“Hanson is being a little turd,” I say. “No big deal. I’m starting to realize that’s all he’s really good for.” I turn my head slowly and look at him, darting my eyes his way.

“Hanson, cut it out, man,” Michael says.

“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again, sir,” he mocks.

“Any good news?” I ask Michael. He sits down next to me and stretches his buff arms, over his head.

“Well, my wife wants to come see the place tomorrow, but I doubt she’ll have any solutions to the problem,” he says. He gets up and walks over to the mini fridge near the door to the house. He grabs a six pack and hands us each a beer. “The good news is that I think we can relax for the day. I’m a little overworked. Let’s just take it easy.”

“No can do,” Hanson says. “We have to finish these cabinets by Thursday. That means no breaks.”

“For a ball buster, he won’t stop working,” I say.

“Unfortunately, he’s one of the best,” Michael says.

I take a sip from my Pale Ale and feel the cold carbonation satisfyingly burn the roof of my mouth. “So,” I sigh. “Now what?”

“We wait,” he says. But he can’t stop staring at me, and I can’t stop staring back at him. And even though, we’re so close, there’s an unimaginable distance between us, begging us to find a reason to come together. The desire pulls at the strings of my existence. It grabs in between my legs and forces a new kind of warmth into my body.

Michael Vanderbilt is not only built. He’s calm. He’s confident. He’s sexy. And he’s forbidden. It’s up to me to find the key, but for now, I’ll just sit and stare.