A beer. A shower. A bed. In that order. After a hellish day like this, that’s all Adrian wanted. It was nine o’clock, and he was D.O.N.E.

The tile fiasco had simply been a matter of the wrong numbers on the wrong lines. The order amounts had been correct, and it had only set them back about fifteen minutes. Everyone who had a stake in seeing this series take off had pitched in big time today. He’d seen everyone but Sofia tackling projects, whether it was their responsibility or not. He and Seth had gotten the repurposed sideboard and cabinets assembled for the island, and he had to admit, the mix of butcher block and marble countertops worked well. But Sofia hadn’t even come in to see it.

After lunch, the rest of the day had been a struggle. Nothing major, just little hiccups that meant he spent the day putting out fires instead of knocking out his to-do list. His crew was solid though, and they’d gotten the tile laid so it could set before the moving crews started walking on it tomorrow afternoon. Frankie had handled the trim outs in the bedrooms, and then pitched in on the painting, so those rooms were done. Enzo and his guys had the landscaping roughed in, and they’d finish planting the annuals in the morning. Thankfully, that had been a lighter job, just a little curb appeal, no grading issues or major stump removal.

No matter how many times Jake had suggested he go ask Sofia a question, Adrian had resisted. Crown molding? He made the call to leave it out. It was a fussy detail and took too much time and money. The homeowners would never miss it. And if he was going to take more of a leadership role in this company, he should be able to make executive decisions like that.

Plus, the way Sofia had spoken to him didn’t sit well, and he wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. He knew she was worried about how this “thing” was going to impact their working together. He thought they could work around that. But if her response was to treat him like a grunt, when she was the one who was the unknown quantity, this was going to be over real quick. No matter that she turned him inside out with a blush. He’d give money to know what she had been thinking about before she tripped over those stupid tiles.

Flipping through the cut book, he made his mental to-do list for the next day before he left.

He could do painting touch-up and start the guys on grout in the morning, once he could walk on the tiles. And then a full day Sunday of lifting furniture and arranging it at Sofia’s beck and call. That sounded fun.

“Last call! Anyone still here?” Silence answered him. He left a few of the lights on for security and pulled the door shut behind him. The camera crew had already left, and he’d sent his guys home at five, since they weren’t getting paid overtime and he was perfectly capable of finishing tiling a floor on his own. When he was an owner, he’d make sure everyone respected the crew’s time.

He locked the door and set the alarm code. Securing the site against theft was always his last step before heading home. If anything went missing, it would be on his head. He climbed into the cab of his truck and exhaled for the first time all day. He was bone tired. Getting a house finished was already hard, but doing it all over three times for the cameras and dealing with their external deadlines was exhausting. He, for one, would not be sad if the pilot didn’t get picked up. If this became a show, this would only get worse.

He turned the key in the ignition, but before he even touched the gearshift, his phone was beeping an alarm. The motion detectors in the house were going off. ¡No mames! Can this day just be over? Had someone seen the crews all over the house and been waiting for them to go? At least the raw materials had been installed so there was less chance of the pipes or wiring being stolen, but there was still a shit ton of electronic and video equipment in the house. He grabbed his long crowbar from behind the seat and dragged himself back out of the truck.

He disabled the alarm and began a room-by-room search. He’d say one thing for the new open concept kitchen and dining room: it was easy to scan from one end of the house to the other. That would come in handy once Farha and Gautam had little ones running around. Turning down the hallway, he pushed open doors to bedrooms and checked closets. The last room he checked was the nursery. And there she was, the thorn in his paw. Sofia, still in her baggy T-shirt and torn jeans. Her beautiful hair wasn’t show ready. She’d tugged it into another goddamn ponytail on top of her head, and all he could think was how much he wanted to kiss her neck. Scratch that. How much he wanted to be welcome to kiss her neck.

She had earbuds in and hadn’t heard him enter. She probably also hadn’t heard him when he’d called out ten minutes ago to see if anyone was left in the house. What was she doing here so late?

“Hey. HEY!”

How loud were those headphones? He tapped her on the shoulder and she spun, paintbrush raised, catching him across the chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She brushed at his chest, simultaneously making his stain and his strain worse. “You startled me.”

“I seem to have that effect on you. Why are you still here?”

“I wanted to work on the mural while it was quiet.”

“Mural? That’s not in the binder.”

“I know. It’s a surprise. I didn’t want to tell them about it until I was sure I could make it happen. Since Frankie didn’t finish in here until this afternoon, it was going to be close. But it’s going to make the room so special for them.” She pointed to an old photograph she’d taped to the wall. “See this? It’s Farha when she was five, visiting her grandparents’ house outside Mumbai. I’m going to paint it over here, next to where the reading nook will go.”

A little girl in a full sari sat next to a reflecting pond full of floating lotus flowers and lily pads, reading a book.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“I do, but I don’t mind a late night here or there to get the job done right.”

Adrian’s hackles rose. “Is that a dig?”

“What time did you send your crew home?”

“Five o’clock. Just like normal.” He crossed his arms defiantly. He would not apologize for protecting his crew.

“Hmm.” There was a wealth of meaning behind that one syllable.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Nope, they are your crew and your business. I just hope that everything is ready for load-in tomorrow.”

“They are my crew. Most of them are working extra jobs to make ends meet. If they don’t need to stay late, I won’t ask them to, especially since the contract you negotiated doesn’t pay them overtime.” His anger rose, and he tried to keep his voice calm but firm. He was pretty sure he failed.

“Are we back to that?”

“Apparently, since you have a problem with me tiling a floor by myself.”

“I didn’t say that.” She wasn’t saying a lot. Adrian wished she would knock that chip off her shoulder and admit that she was in over her head.

“My guys got everything done that they needed to do today. They put in a full day, unlike some people in this room.”

“I wasn’t just sitting on my ass filing my nails, you know.” She pulled a folded sheet from her back pocket and shoved it into his chest. “Here’s the punch list I knocked out today. All the outlet covers and switch plates are on, lights are installed and have bulbs, closet organizers hung, and rooms cleaned. I’ve spent enough time helping on crews to know what I can handle.”

“Fine. Next time you ‘pitch in,’ let me know.” He glanced at the list. This would free up a good bit of time tomorrow, but he was still pissed over her attitude.

His tone must have flipped her switch because her icy control flashed to anger. “I don’t report to you. You can run your guys however you want, but I’m not one of your guys.”

His eyes wanted to wander over her curves and confirm her abundantly obvious statement. He chose to make his point instead.

“Listen, if you’ve got a problem with the way I run my crew, talk to your dad. At least he respects the amount of work these guys put in to make your ridiculous designs happen.”

“Ridiculous? What, in your opinion, was ridiculous about my plan?” Her voice rose, and she stepped into his space.

“Where do I begin? Crown molding in every bedroom, despite the cost issues? I vetoed that, by the way. Unnecessary demolition of walls that weren’t bothering anyone? No, I know. Let’s take the tiles.” He held tight to his control, knowing it would infuriate her.

Sure enough, his calm condescension had her spitting flames. “You mean the tiles that you had slated for the wrong rooms? The tiles I had to stop you from laying?”

“That was a simple mistake, easily fixed. You know what wasn’t easy? Laying those huge square tiles on a diagonal pattern. Do you know how many extra cuts we had to make to fit the corners of every straight edge in that room?”

“I’m sure however many cuts, it was worth the effort. I peeked in there earlier, and it looks beautiful and wide open.”

How could she not see that she was making this all way more difficult than it had to be? How could this woman he was falling for have so little respect for his time and talents? He lost his battle for control, and anger and frustration filled his voice.

“It would look just as wide open with straight tiles, since we took down most of a fucking wall.”

“No, it wouldn’t. But I don’t have time to argue the point with you. I’ve got a ridiculous mural to finish. If you’ll excuse me…”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not leaving you alone in the house this late. It’s not safe.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Listen, we put alarms on the construction sites for a reason. Just ignore me and keep painting. I’ll just start assembling the furniture for this room. If I’m going to stay, I might as well get ahead for tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure your mother is wondering where you are.” She held up her hand. “And no, that was not a dig, just an observation. I don’t want her to worry.”

“I’ll call her.”

“You are really going to sit here and assemble a crib while I paint?”

“Get to it, princesa. I’ve got a beer at home with my name on it.”

He walked back out to his truck and got his tool kit, and grabbed the crib packaging out of the closet on his way back in. He couldn’t figure it out. Even after all of the crap she’d dumped on him, spending an evening working late with her was more appealing than relaxing at home alone. He shook his head at his own stupidity. But he went back in anyway and tore into the plastic wrapping. She already had her headphones back on and was swaying her hips as she meticulously added brush strokes to the wall.

She had a point about the design. Even though he’d cursed her while using the tile cutter, he could see that the floors looked nice. But they would have looked just as nice the normal way. He wished that she could respect his time and his work more than she did. Just because something looked better didn’t mean it was always worth the extra effort to be fussy.

He laid out the pieces of the crib and let his brain empty as he assembled. Slot A, Tab B. A couple of quick screws. If only a relationship with her was that easy.

Hours floated past as he completed first the crib, then the bookcase/window seat, and finally the changing table. He moved on to the master bedroom and built the headboard and bed frame, and the bedside tables. Buying everything in pieces was certainly cheaper, which he was positive was a motivating factor, but God, was it a pain in the ass. His eyes were crossing with exhaustion by the time he peeked back into the nursery to see how close she was to done.

Sofia sat on the drop cloth beneath her finished mural, head resting against the wall, fast asleep.

She had talent. He’d give her that. The image from the photograph had come alive on the wall through her paintbrush. Any little girl would feel inspired to read beneath it. He checked his watch and winced. He didn’t know if it was worth working until one in the morning for, but he was sure she thought it was. Slipping an arm beneath her legs and around her shoulders, he lifted her and carried her outside. About halfway to his truck, she roused enough to realize what was happening.

“Put me down.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m going to drive you home.”

“I’m too heavy. Put me down. And I can drive myself home, thank you very much.”

“If you were too heavy I wouldn’t be carrying you. Stop saying that.”

She couldn’t argue with that logic, but that wasn’t going to slow her down.

“I’m still not getting in your truck. I can get myself home. Plus, I need to be back here early tomorrow.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

“Quit being stubborn.”

“Quit being an asshole.”

That stopped him in his tracks. Here he’d been trying to do something nice for her, and she was going to call him an asshole? He set her down on her feet and stepped back.

“You want to drive yourself home? Be my guest. I forgot. You don’t need or want to lean on anyone. You won’t have to worry about me forgetting again.”