Teagan

The six-foot-four inches of sweaty carpenter working no more than ten feet from me makes it hard to concentrate on what Lola is saying. Scratch that. He makes it very easy to concentrate. But only on one thing.

Him.

Which is making this particular Facetime conversation with my friend a tad challenging because Lola Espinado believes the world revolves around one thing.

Her.

“Earth to Teagan.” Lola holds the phone close to her face, widening her eyes into the camera. “You’re the one who wanted to Facetime, in the first place. Remember?”

I drag my focus from the tool-wielding demi-God with the abs and pecs chiseled from stone and the golden skin glistening in the sun. Or at least I try to. “Sorry, Lo.” I shift so I get a better view of the pool instead of the sexy temptation across the way. “I’m just a little distracted is all.”

“I see that.” Lola rolls her eyes and settles back into the pillows on her bed. “So… What’s the house like? Is it massive?”

Is it massive? Oh, God.

I will not look at the carpenter’s crotch. I will not look. I. Will. Not.

Of course, I look anyway.

“Tea?” Lola sounds frustrated.

“Huh?”

“What’s the house like? Your dad’s boss must be, like, a gazillionaire or something.” Lola grins. “Take me on a tour of the place. Show me around. Technology is a beautiful thing.”

My gaze flits to the carpenter on the other side of the pool. The muscles in his back twist under his sun-bronzed skin as he hefts a two-by-four into place. A bead of sweat rolls down from the silver-streaked hair at his temple and he pauses to brush it away. He’s older but that only strengthens his appeal. His age adds a certain level of Distinguished Gentleman to the whole Viking Warrior thing he’s got going on and the effect is more than palatable, to say the least.

“Jesus, Tea. At least turn the camera around so I can be distracted, too?”

I wrench my attention back to my friend. “Sorry.” I most decidedly do not show Lola the carpenter. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were living in the lap of luxury and thought you might like to give me a Facetime tour of the place.” Lola sighs and shifts, her image on the screen bouncing wildly. “But at this point I don’t even care anymore.”

“Believe me. If you could see this house, you’d care. I can’t even believe how gorgeous it is.” I fight to keep my attention on Lola and not the carpenter, because speaking of gorgeous…

Lola pushes into a sitting position. “How is it that you get to spend the next three months at a billionaire’s private ranch and I have to spend the summer at my parents’ house.” She lowers her voice. “It’s like the twilight zone here, Tea. My bedroom is this creepy shrine to my childhood. I’m surrounded by pink ruffles and unicorns. I keep waiting for Mom to show up with a weird smile and a plateful of cookies laced with mind-altering drugs.”

I laugh. Lola’s parents developed this weird denial thing about her growing up right around the time she developed breasts. “It’s pretty surreal out here, too. I’m sitting poolside with a view of the lake and the mountains behind it.” And the sexiest older man I’ve ever seen standing right in front of me. “I can’t believe this is just how Mr. Kincaid lives every day.”

“Ahhh, the kah-jillionaire life.” Lola tosses her hair. “Something us little people will never fully understand.”

“I’m not gonna lie, when Dad told me his boss needed a house sitter, I almost turned him down. Who wants to spend a whole summer in someone else’s house?”

Lola widens her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Hello! When else in your life are you going to have a chance to live like royalty? It’s like a fairy tale or something.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Or something.” My gaze flits to the carpenter who’s trying—and failing—to hide a smirk. “But I’m really glad I said yes, even if it is weird to sleep in someone else’s bed.”

“Shut the front door! You sleep in his bed? Isn’t there a guest room or something?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I meant. But even the guest room is more luxurious than anything I’m used to. And it’s still someone else’s bed. I don’t even feel comfortable messing up the covers. I just sleep on the very edge and then fix the covers as soon as I get up.” Across the pool, the carpenter glances at me. I drop my gaze to my phone the minute our eyes meet because holy fucking shit, what was that? I swear to God the air just sizzled between us.

“What in the world do you keep looking at?”

I shift in the lounge chair, leaning closer to my phone so I can lower my voice. “There’s a guy here…”

“A guy?” Lola squeals. “Are you gonna finally hand in your V-card at your dad’s boss’ quatrillionaire ranch?”

“Fucking hell, Lola! Shhh!” I pivot in my seat, turning away from the hot piece of man meat in the hope that he can’t hear what I’m saying. “No. God, no. Mr. Kincaid is having a pergola built and the carpenter is here, finishing it up. He’ll only be here for today.” My gaze wanders across the pool again.

“And he’s hot, right?” Lola grins. “That’s why you can’t keep your eyes off him.”

“He’s not bad.”

“Right. Not bad.” Lola rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of her head. “I believe that, like, not at all.”

“Okay, fine. He’s really hot. Like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen kind of hot.”

Lola leans forward, her image on the phone bouncing as she shifts. “Describe him. In detail. Don’t leave out one delicious inch of him.”

“He’s right over there.” I lower my voice and widen my eyes. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Nope. I want to talk about this. Is his shirt off? Oh shit, Tea.” Lola grins, her eyes gleaming with wicked thoughts. “I bet it is. And he’s sweating, isn’t he? All muscly with power tools hanging from his belt? Turn the camera around so I can see him.”

Thank God I’ve got earbuds in because I would die if he could hear her half of the conversation. “Lola!” I hiss. “Can we please change the topic?”

Lola purses her lips. “Only if you promise to describe him to me.”

“Fine. He’s older, but still totally hot. And yes, his shirt is off. And yes, he’s built like … I don’t know. He spends his days lifting heavy shit and he has the body to prove it.”

“Oh my God. Tea. You have to go talk to him.” Lola bites her bottom lip and bobs her head.

“There’s no way in hell I can do that.” I laugh a little. Of course Lola wants me to talk to him because that’s exactly what she would do. She’d saunter right over there, introduce herself, and they’d be having wild sex in Mr. Kincaid’s bed before the end of the day.

Lola sighs in exasperation. “Why not?”

“Because! That’s so not me.”

“Right.” She bobs her head. “Which is exactly why you should do it.”

“Come on now, what do you expect me to do? Just walk over to the guy and say hey, I’m a virgin and don’t know how to come onto a hot older man. Would you please do me the honor of popping my cherry?” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

The carpenter clears his throat. I turn and find him staring right at me, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. Even shocked, he’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Lola laughs and falls back onto her bed, her hair fanning out on the cotton-candy-colored comforter beneath her. “He heard you, didn’t he?” She laughs even harder. “You are so smooth, Teagan. So smooth.” It’s hard to understand her through her incessant giggling.

“Shut up, Lo.”

I want to die. Like, run into the guestroom, throw back the covers, and curl into the fetal position until he leaves.

“I’m coming over.” Lola wipes tears from her eyes. “You so need my help right now.”

“You will do no such thing. I’m not allowed to have guests and you’ll only make things worse.”

“I will not. I promise to be the best wingman of all time.”

“Damn it, Lola Espinado. Do not come over.” I risk a glance at the carpenter and find his back turned. “I’m hanging up now,” I say to my friend.

“I’ll see you in a few.”

“No, you won’t. Stay home. I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, but you do, my dear, sweet friend. You really do.” Lola ends the call and I toss my phone onto my towel, thoroughly disgusted with everything that just happened. Time and time again I prove that if there’s a way to put my foot in my mouth, I’ll find it. Leave it to me to find a way to embarrass myself in front of this man before I’ve even spoken to him.

The heat of the sun combines with the blush flaring across my chest and cheeks and sweat starts trickling down my spine, making my skin uncomfortably sticky. I stand and adjust my bikini top—doing everything I possibly can to ignore the carpenter as he does everything he possibly can to ignore me—and dive into the pool.

The rush of the water helps clear my thoughts and I break the surface of the water feeling a tad bit better than I did just seconds before. So, he knows I think he’s hot. And sure, he knows I’m a virgin. So what? He’s just a guy who I’ve never talked to and who I’ll never see again after he finishes whatever he’s building for my dad’s boss. It’s not like I haven’t embarrassed myself before and it’s guaranteed that I’ll embarrass myself again. All I have to do is hang on and not make eye contact for the rest of the day. Everything will be better after he leaves.