Two days later, Sofia’s reaction was still troubling Adrian. He shifted in the driver’s seat of his pickup truck. His wipers flipped the early spring rain aside as he reached for the paperwork he needed to complete for her. Why was she so skittish around him? She almost seemed nervous to be alone in a room with him? He’d tried to put her at ease, by calling her sweet names, by joking, by being as non-threatening as possible, but still she backed away.

It didn’t bode well for becoming a partner if the woman who ran the show couldn’t stand to work with him. Sure, Dom might be the man with the name on the sign, but Adrian knew who kept the lights on and the paychecks coming. How could he convince her to back his plan? He drew a blank and tried to turn his attention back to the order forms in his hands.

It also didn’t help that he had trouble keeping his mind strictly on business when she was around. He’d walked into that break room and nearly swallowed his tongue. She’d been bent over at the waist, stretching her rear toward the door in what he was sure she considered sensible leggings. He thought they were the sexiest item of clothing he’d ever seen, and was jealous that they got to touch the luscious curve of her ass, while he had to keep his hands to himself. It had taken all of his control to remember that he’d gone in there to ask for help, not to push her against the cabinets and show her exactly how much he wanted her.

She had the same good girl face she’d had since high school, all innocence and smiles, but her body had changed. No longer a girl, she was a woman built to drive a man insane. When she opened her mouth, and the sass and sarcasm came spilling out, he was tempted to grin. But he reminded himself to play nice and keep his distance. But just because he was determined not to act didn’t mean he couldn’t still look. She wore these sweaters he was sure looked conservative on a hanger, but when they were stretched over her mouthwatering curves… Jesus Christ. I’m daydreaming about her sweaters… As his mind helpfully supplied a montage of all of the sweaters she’d ever worn, he struggled to put his attraction away.

When he’d started with the company, she’d been in high school, the daughter of his boss, and firmly off-limits despite being only two years his junior. He’d crushed hard, and if he’d met her while he had still been in school a few months earlier, he would have asked her out. But dealing with his father’s deportation and having to drop out to work, he’d put girls on the back burner. Besides, he couldn’t afford to screw up the lucky break he’d gotten working for the Valentis. While she’d gone away to college, he had put his head down and worked his way up to crew boss. Now, she was a woman, with a quick mind he admired and a curvy body he desired, and she was more off-limits than ever.

He sat back in the chaos of his truck and ran a hand over his face, as if that could erase the naughty thoughts that kept pushing to the forefront. He needed to tackle the paperwork Sofia would need for the next big bid, and the rain gave him the perfect window. He hovered his hand over the stack of papers on the dash, moving left and right, before diving into the stack and coming out with the exact form he needed. To the outside eye, organization was not his strong suit, but he could find anything he was looking for. He just needed to see everything so he could remember where things were. As busy as they were, filing was a waste of time that was better spent hanging drywall.

He blamed the busy season, the constant interruptions, the second-language factor, the stupid vendor websites that wouldn’t load on his phone—but he just plain hated paperwork. He was good with his hands and had an eye for detail. Ask him about any open job, and he could tell you anything you needed to know, from dimensions to finishes. But words and numbers did not like to go from his brain to the page easily. He’d play to his strengths, thank you very much. He tossed the unfinished bid form back on top of the pile and ran his hands through his hair, unable to focus with Sofia still on his mind.

He spooked her somehow, and no matter how much he longed to run his hands over her lovely hips, no good would come from hitting on and striking out with the boss’s daughter. Too many people were depending on him to make the most of his career to risk her rejection. She could crush his goals with a well placed “no” at the dinner table. She worked with contractors all day. Given that she was built like a fucking brick house, Adrian was sure that she shot down unwanted advances all day long. He wouldn’t put himself in that position no matter how many more pleasant positions he imagined her in.

His phone buzzed in his hand and her name flashed across the screen, as if his dirty thoughts had summoned her. He let it ring twice while he pulled himself together.

“Hey, I put together a cheat sheet on the TV contract. Do you have time to go over it today?”

“I’m all the way down in Almaden Valley. I wasn’t going to go back into the office before I go home.” He certainly didn’t want to see her in his, uh, current state. Just hearing her voice was making things harder.

“Can I meet you halfway? I really need to get these signed so we can get the ball rolling. The producer keeps calling me. I guess they’re really excited.”

“Okay, sure. Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“If I’m making you drive a half hour out of your way, the least I can do is buy you dinner. Do you know the Black Bear Diner? On El Camino?”

“Yeah, it’s a favorite of mine.” He knew that but wasn’t going to say so for fear of going too far.

“Great. I’ll see you there around six.”

See? He could keep it professional if he tried. And now he’d gotten a dinner date out of it.

No. He got firm with his inner horny devil. Not a date. A business meeting. One I can’t afford to blow.

* * *

When Sofia finally got to the Black Bear Diner after battling Bay Area rush hour traffic, Adrian was already seated at the table. She pulled her hair back into a fresh ponytail after the drive and tugged her sweater back down over her hips. She had nothing to be nervous about. This was just coffee and contracts. He had his hands curled around one of the two cups of coffee before him, and she briefly envied that stoneware mug before pushing away those unprofessional thoughts. He rose to meet her when she approached the table.

“Hey, gorgeous. I’m ashamed to say, I don’t know how you like your coffee so I left it black, but asked for everything.”

Sofia rolled her eyes at both the endearment and the idea that anyone would know how she took her coffee. He was after something, and she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit, no matter how prettily delivered.

“Cream, one fake sugar, the green one if they have it.”

She reached for the coffee, but his hand closed over hers and she jerked back, singed.

“Please, sit down. I’ll do it.” She sat and watched, faintly stunned as he prepared her coffee just right. When was the last time someone had taken care of something as simple as making her coffee? Too long ago to remember. She had to remind the flutters in her belly that it was a simple gesture, certainly nothing to read into, but she appreciated it all the same. He slid the drink in front of her, and stood while she sipped.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good.” Apparently satisfied that he’d done the job well, he sat back down and sipped his own coffee. “So, contracts?”

Right to business. Of course, because this isn’t anything but a work meeting. She bent to dig the papers out of her massive purse and when she rose, Adrian’s gaze was significantly lower than her chin. She was usually very careful about keeping her 40DDs covered, but her V-neck sweater must’ve given him quite the show when she’d leaned over. Her cheeks flushed crimson, but she couldn’t tell if her blush was the usual one of embarrassment over her body or one of pleasure over the blatant male desire she saw in his eyes. Maybe a weird combination of the two? She sure as hell didn’t know how she felt about that. She fell back on her defensive habits honed over her years working with construction grunts. She crossed her arms across her chest to symbolically block his view. Her cough and raised eyebrow drew his eyes farther north.

When he did look her in the eye, the desire was carefully banked, and Sofia could tell she had his attention where she wanted it.

“The contracts. Basically, you agree to play nice for the cameras and explain what you’re doing to the viewers at home. You also have to agree to work within their timelines and shooting schedules. They have certain dates they need certain footage by, etc. Then we pay your wages, insurance, retirement, as usual, plus an added stipend from the show.”

“So what happens if the project goes over forty a week? Do my guys get paid overtime?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Let me check.” She pulled her cheater glasses from her purse and perched them on her nose before scanning the documents in the dim light. “No, it doesn’t cover that. They are considered ancillary and do not get any increased stipend. I assume Dad would continue to pay regular overtime hours though.”

“You assume? Would my crew have any hour limits? Like max ten a day?”

“No. They’d agree to work until the required task was done.”

“I can’t sign this.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You are asking me to sign away their rights and protections. These guys will be taking the brunt of the workload, and this doesn’t even guarantee they will get paid what they’re making now. Did you talk about any of this with Dom?”

The truth rankled, but she hadn’t seen this pitfall, and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her father since he’d dropped off the contract on Monday.

“I’m sure it’s just an oversight.”

“I can’t sign this without his assurances, and I need to talk to the guys first.”

“Damn it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and calculated delays. “I can’t imagine your guys will be called on to do all that much overtime. Your projects always run on time.”

“But this contract says that if we do run late, we have no choice but to stay until it’s done. These men have lives, families, and second jobs that may suffer. They deserve the right to choose.” His voice had gone hard, and she realized she’d sounded pushy and petulant. Just because she wanted to move the contracts through quickly and without too much scrutiny didn’t mean it was the right thing for everyone involved. That realization didn’t make it any easier to tamp down her frustrations.

“You’re right. Of course they do. I just thought I’d be able to get these contracts done today.”

She looked up and took off her glasses. An almost wistful grin stretched his face, and that damn dimple that made her knees weak was winking at her.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” She wiped her upper lip.

“No, querida, I just like the way you look in glasses. I’ve always had a thing for smart women.”

Jesus, laying it on a little thick… Enough was enough. “Listen, you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Compliment me, call me beautiful or gorgeous or querida. It’s crap and you know it.”

He paused for a moment, and in that silence Sofia watched confusion turn to frustration.

“But it’s what I see.”

“Oh, please. Look at me.” She gestured to the body she loved and hated daily. Since Gabe had died and her well-organized world had fallen apart, she’d gained thirty pounds. On her already petite frame, this had pushed her from curvy to overweight. She hated not fitting into her cute clothes anymore, but buying new ones in a larger size felt like giving up. She couldn’t let herself get comfortable at the weight she was now, and the pinching waistbands and gapping shirts made sure she felt every unwanted inch. Sweaters were the only thing that covered her well enough to hide her ill-fitting jeans.

She needed to get serious about losing the weight. Tomorrow. Next week, for sure. But right now, she just needed him to stop reminding her of everything she’d lost.

“You can’t fire me, right?”

“No, I can’t.”

He sat silent for another moment, and she could almost see him weighing his words.

“Then I will tell you exactly what I see when I look at you. I see tempting blue-gray eyes that sparkle with intelligence and humor behind glasses that make me dream about naughty librarians. I see sexy blonde hair that you wear pulled back in a tight ponytail too often, making my hands itch to let it down. I get distracted when you walk into the room. Every curve makes me want to look, to touch, to savor. I see a pretty girl I used to know who has grown into a beautiful woman I’d like to know better.”

She had no words, no response, no idea that those thoughts had been hiding behind his casual endearments. She had no script for this situation because never in a million years could she have seen this coming. Her mouth dropped open but nothing came out past the lump of lust in her throat.

He shook his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it, and I will call you Fi like everyone else. No. No, I can’t give you the nickname of a poodle. But I will watch my words.” He rose from the table and gathered up the papers she’d brought for him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll talk to my guys tonight, and let you know about the contracts in the morning.”

Before she could marshal her whirling thoughts into phrases, he was gone. Damn it! He’d gone and crossed her wires, but he hadn’t given her a chance to untangle her tongue.

She turned her glasses over in her hand. Would she ever look at her specs the same way again?

He’d probably been insulted that she hadn’t flirted back or at least said thank you, but she’d been too busy swallowing her own tongue in shock.

Maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive, too. But knowing he felt the same didn’t change the fact that they worked together. It was still a bad idea.

“Can I get you anything to eat, hon?” The waitress looked at her with pity in her tired eyes, and Sofia caved to impulse. She deserved a little pick-me-up after letting that piece of man-candy walk out the door.

“One of your chocolate cream pies, please.”

“You bet.”

Sofia smoothed a hand over her tight ponytail, the images he’d painted still vivid in her mind. Dating him might be a bad idea, but his fantasy intrigued her, and Sofia was certain she’d be dreaming of the library later.