Since the moment I saw April outside my hotel room door this morning, her face flushed from sleep and her eyes burning a trail over my body…I’d wanted her. That wasn’t quite right. I’d wanted her since the night I saw her in the bar, then when she’d told me off and I stood helpless as she gave me a good dressing-down with such passion, I knew I’d have her. I’ve made a good go of ignoring our attraction to each other for the past week, but I can’t stop the inevitable.

Now with her taste in my mouth, I only want more. I brush my hand over her breast, capturing her moan in a kiss. Her warm skin shivers as I cup her breast through her thin t-shirt. Her back arches, bringing her closer to my teasing thumb as I strum her nipple.

A shot of adrenalin rushes through my body when her leg wraps around my hip, pulling me closer until I’m lying almost on top of her. I need to see her, touch her, and taste her, now. With shaking hands, I grab the end of her t-shirt, and before I can rip it over her head, I hear voices coming down the trail. Groaning, I pull her shirt back down and roll over onto my back. I turn my head and notice April is having just as hard a time breathing as I am. Her eyes are closed, and her face is flushed. When she rolls her head and looks at me, I see the same sexual frustration I feel.

“Come back to my room,” I ask softly.

I can see the debate going on inside her head. She gazes up at the blue sky and pauses. “Elias…”

I’m not going to let her get away without admitting she feels the same chemistry between us as I do. “Don’t say no. You want it as much as I do.”

She sighs and sits up. “I do, but I’m not sure that would be a good decision.”

I sit up and rub the back of my neck as the tourists come closer. “April, I know you feel it too.”

“You’re right—I do. But you’re my client, and Belinda’s wedding is very important to not only me, but to Rachael as well.”

I blow out a breath in frustration. I hear what she’s saying, and while I don’t agree with her, I can understand her argument. “Technically, Belinda is your client.”

April begins to stuff our trash and leftover sandwiches back in her tote. “We need to get back to the house. I still have a lot to do today.”

I brush my jeans off as I painfully stand and watch April scramble to leave. I’ll drop it for now, but soon, I hope to change her mind, because the small, sweet taste I had wasn’t nearly enough.

More than an hour later, we’ve unloaded the wood and stacked the rounds inside the Manor. April was pleasant and professional on the ride down the mountain as she directed our conversation toward wedding arrangements and the weather. All safe subjects. My phone rings, and by the tone, I know it’s the show’s producer. Not a call I can ignore like I’ve been doing to Kent’s. Several times a day. I’ll get back to him when I get home. But for now, I’m on vacation, and I don’t care what he has to say. “Excuse me, April. I need to take this.”

“Sure. I’ll just be in the house when you’re finished.”

I watch her until she closes the door, then I connect the call. Not because I wanted privacy, but because I wanted to torture myself with the view. “Hey, John. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you on your time off. I know you’re getting ready for Belinda’s wedding, but I wondered if you would have time to see a house about three hours away from you? The network wants us to do a special show featuring a deserving family whose house was flooded.”

“That sounds like a great show,” I agree.

John continues, “The best part is the network is going to back the build.”

I perk up at that offer. “So, that means anything we want to do with the renovation? Sky’s the limit?”

“Within reason, of course,” John laughs. “The family is really amazing. The father is a fireman who helped others during the flood, leaving his own house in danger. The mother is a nurse who worked shifts without much sleep in between. Plus, they have three young children.”

Sounds like a deserving family and an interesting project. “When would we start? We have the SoCal house coming up next.”

I hear papers shuffling. I can just see him multi-tasking while talking to me. “Network has worked it out, and we are to move to the Wolcott’s house next,” John explains.

I scratch my chin, trying to figure out how to work this into my schedule. “So, we’d start in three weeks? Is that even possible?”

“Sure it is, if you know the right people. It seems the town is anxious to do something for this family, so I don’t think permits are going to be an issue. You don’t even need to come home. You can go straight to the area.”

“So, what do you need me to do?”

“The usual. See the area, get a feel for the logistics. You can meet the family and get some insight into what they’d like to see us accomplish. Take some preliminary pictures. You know the drill.”

“When do you need this by?”

“We were hoping you could go tomorrow and report back.”

That soon? “I’ll have to talk to the wedding planner. Belinda left to be with Wes, and I’m her stand-in.”

John chuckles. “I would love to see that!”

After hanging up, I think about it for few minutes before going to find April. I find her in a second-floor bedroom, scraping a door she’d taken off the hinges and laid out between two sawhorses. “Are you going to paint or stain?” I ask.

April raises her head and grins, “That is still undetermined. Rachael and I have different opinions. I want to stain all the doors and woodwork in the house, but Rachael thinks it will make everything too dark. She wants to paint them all white.”

I’ve heard that argument several dozen times. “That’s a difficult decision.”

“What would you do?” she asks.

“If you’re going back with original moldings and woodwork, I’d stain. But Rachael is right, too. Painting will lighten it up and give a crisp, clean feel to the house.”

Her shoulders slump as she wipes away a pile of paint scraps. “Yeah, that’s why we are still undecided. I feel like we probably have a few months before we need to decide.”

“Listen, my producer called and wants me to check a house out for a potential show. Would you like to come with me?” I watch her closely as she weighs her options. She’s so easy to read. There’s no doubt in my mind that she wants to go, but she’s considering saying no. Our kiss earlier has to be worrying her. Before she can say no, I tell her about the Wolcott family and their situation. When her eyes fill with moisture, I know I have her.

April turns her head away and brushes her cheeks. “When would we leave?”

I know she’s erasing any sign of tears, and again, I’m blown away by her empathy for others. “We’d need to leave around seven tomorrow morning. I would appreciate the company. Plus, I could really use the help with meeting the family.”

“Okay, I’ll go. But I’m going to have to work during the drive—we don’t have much time left, you know. Come on. I’ll drop you back at the B and B. I need to go into the shop for a while.”

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” April bends over for her tools, and I appreciate the stitching on her jeans.

“Just call me from the parking lot and I’ll come down. Do not get out of your car, or you’ll be sorry.”

The next morning, I find myself sitting on a mauve and teal floral silk couch with a dainty china cup grasped between my large, callused fingers, wondering where I messed up. I’d pulled into the parking lot and had my phone out to text April to let her know I was here when these two older ladies tapped on my window. The next thing I know, I’m sipping some type of herbal tea and eating the most delicious cookies I’ve ever tasted, while being filled in on the history of White Oaks Mill.

“Then the mill closed,” Ms. Edna says.

Ms. Blanche adds, “By that time, we’d worked here for almost forty years.”

Ms. Edna pauses only long enough to swallow a sip of tea. “It was so sad to see the mill sit vacant for so long. Then this uppity man from some foreign place bought it.”

Ms. Blanche leans back with pursed lips and explains. “At first, everyone was afraid he’d level the place and put up a shopping mall. This mill is part of the town’s heritage. Nobody wanted to see that happen.”

Ms. Edna picks up where Ms. Blanche left off. “But he called a town meeting and explained what he had in mind. Of course, everyone was onboard after that. He’s quite a dashing fellow. He has a driver, you know. I suppose the girls today would say he’s a babe magnet.”

I spit the sip of tea I’d just taken and cover it by coughing into the frilly napkin they’d placed on my knees. “Sorry.” I point to my throat. “Wrong pipe,” I wheeze.

Ms. Edna nods and continues. “We were just happy that he didn’t change too much of the structure. Why, that darling man offered an apartment at half price to anyone who had worked at the mill.”

“We’re green, you know. Almost self-sustaining. Let’s see, how did he put it… eliminate any negative impact on the environment. That’s how he explained it,” Ms. Blanche added.

A knock at the door sends Ms. Edna off in a dash to answer it. I check the time on my phone—thirty minutes past the time I was supposed to pick April up. How can I extract myself from Ms. Edna and Ms. Blanche? Then I hear April’s voice and hope she knows how to rescue me.

“Good morning, Ms. Edna,” April says, walking into the room with a big grin on her face. Our eyes meet, and she’s trying not to laugh at the ridiculous picture I must make.

“Come in, dear. We have your nice young man visiting,” Ms. Edna says politely.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Edna, but I just stopped by to get Elias. We need to be going.”

“I guess you do want to get an early start on your trip since it’s so far away. I’m so glad you’re helping that sweet young couple. They lost everything in the flood. So sad.”

My eyes shoot open along with my mouth. How did Ms. Blanche know about the secret project? I catch April’s eye—did she tell them? She shakes her head, a smile tugging at the left corner of her lip.

Ms. Edna takes my teacup. “Now, you do everything you can to help those children get back home. Bless their hearts.”

My eyes travel between the two ladies. Stumped. I’m completely stumped. How did they know? After waiting for Ms. Blanche to pack some cookies in a tin for the road and goodbye hugs that reminded me of my own grandmother, we are finally able to escape.

Once we step on the sidewalk, I have to ask. “How did they know about the show? Did you tell them?”

April laughs and shakes her head. “No, I didn’t tell anyone but Rachael. Ms. Edna and Ms. Blanche are…special.”

I scratch my head over that one. “They must be as old as the mill.”

April shushes me. “You better not let them hear you say that. According to Ms. Blanche, they are seventy years young. And they have been for at least the last eight years.” April giggles and almost falls off the sidewalk.

I grab her as she stumbles, and finally, I have her back in my arms. Our eyes connect, and I need her. Without a second thought, I press my lips to hers. She feels so good against my chest. Her warm, soft lips melt under mine, firing an instant craving that makes me swell. The sensible part of me says to stop, but the part that’s in control at the moment takes the kiss deeper. I slip between her parted lips. Just before our tongues touch, she moans, and pleasure like I’ve never experienced hits me like a shockwave to my chest.

As much as I’d like to keep her lips on mine, we are in a parking lot. Anyone could look out a window or walk by at any moment and see us. April wouldn’t want that to happen. Especially since she considers me a client first. With one more sweet kiss, I regretfully pull back. Her blue eyes are confused, cloudy with desire, and fixed upon my mouth.

She tries to take a step back, but stumbles. I take her arm until she’s steady on her feet. “We…we’re late.”

I tip her chin up so she’s looking into my eyes. “At some point, we are going to need to talk about this.”

She pauses before she nods. “Okay. But not now. Now, we need to go.”

The wariness on her face makes me place a hand on the small of her back and steer her toward my car. My phone rings and I ignore the call. Kent can’t interrupt my time off. Within a few minutes, we’re on I-40 heading south. “So, tell me about those lovely ladies.”