I’m sitting at a makeshift plank table with my plumbing guy in the Climax Vineyards’ tasting room when Miguel cruises in. He nudges back his hardhat, fully revealing a stupid grin on his face.

“There’s someone here to see you, Bossman,” he says.

I’m not expecting anyone, and Miguel is being too coy for his own good. Something’s up. “Who is it?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out when you go down to the creek trail.”

“Fuck, Miguel, you think I have time for these games?”

He only gives me a smug look and goes back outside.

I excuse myself from my meeting, walk out of the stone building, then pass the patio where some new tile is being cut by my crew. It’s not far down to the creek where the walking trail starts, and when I see who’s waiting for me by the cottonwoods, the blood jams through me and then comes to a raging stop. I slowly take off my hardhat and tuck it under my arm.

It’s one of the Milton twins, and even though she’s facing away from me as she stands on the muddy bank to watch the creek water tumble by, my gut tells me it’s Gwen. She’s wearing a tight pair of jeans that gives me a stunning view of her shapely ass, and her hair is swept back haphazardly in a barrette.

Why the hell is she here? Did she change her mind because she can’t resist me after all?

But then reality sets in. From the way she’s got her shoulders slumped and her hands tucked into the front pockets of her jeans, I know she’s not here for a social call. She looks more stressed out than usual, and why wouldn’t she be? I heard about the fire at Milton’s, and for a second, something goes tight in my chest. Yet before she can see any sympathy on me — I get the feeling Gwen wouldn’t like anyone to feel sorry for her — I assume a neutral expression and walk the rest of the way down to the creek.

She hears me coming, because she turns around. Something quick and intense flashes through her big blue eyes as she takes me in, her gaze starting at my work boots and dragging up my jeans, then combing over my t-shirt before getting to my face. I can’t help a smile, because Gwen can freeze up around me all she wants and Miguel can tease me about being busted down by her all day, but I know there’s something going on here.

After she pulls her gaze away from mine, she seems to steel herself. Then she makes eye contact again. “I need your help.”

Okay. Cutting right to the chase. I like that.

“What do you need, Gwen?”

She gets that wrinkle between her eyes, and I think it’s because she still thinks I don’t know her from her twin. I grin at her.

She clears her throat. “No doubt you’ve heard about the fire.”

My grin disappears, and I take a few steps closer to her. “I did. I’m real sorry about it, and I’m glad no one was hurt.”

The little wrinkle between her eyes disappears for a moment, and just when I’m starting to think she sees that I can be genuine, she goes back to being uncomfortable around me.

“Here’s the thing.” She kicks at a rock with her boot. “Insurance is going to cover a lot of what we’ll need to fix, but we can’t find a contractor to get the work done. We were hoping you might know someone who could take on the job sooner rather than later. The longer we stay closed, the more money we lose.”

My chest seems to double in on itself, because I know how hard this conversation must be for the ice queen. There’s desperation in her voice; it’s even more obvious than the broken pride in her hunched shoulders. Once again, I feel that strong pull toward her. Sure, I’d love to thaw all that frost from her skin and warm her up from the inside out, but what’s digging under my skin is deeper, more primal, more … I guess if I were the kind of guy who had serious relationships with the right kind of woman, you could say it’s emotional.

No one would say that about me, though.

I take another step closer — near enough for me to catch a hint of her cherry shampoo on the breeze. Fuck, she smells good.

“Gwen,” I say quietly.

It seems to take everything she’s got as she raises her gaze to meet mine. A blast of heat rocks me.

“Of course I’ll help.” I shrug. “We’re ahead of schedule on this Climax job, so I’ll pull some guys from here if I have to. Hell, I can even put in some labor myself after my day is done. We’ll have Milton’s back in business in no time.”

Her eyes widen, as if solving her problem can’t be this easy. And maybe she’s right, because now that we’ve got this settled, the devil in me starts taking over. I can’t resist the temptation to give her just a little bit of a hard time. “There’s only one condition.”

If there was any gratefulness or vulnerability to Gwen, it’s gone now. She gives me a bored, laser-like gaze that could probably turn a lesser man into stone. “Let me guess. I have to go drink wine with you so you can try and get me into the sack.”

Damn! This woman pulls no punches. Thank God Miguel wasn’t around to hear her call me out like that. I’d never hear the end of it.

She shrugs, remaining as cool as she can. “I’m only being clear about what you’re getting around to.”

I rest my hand on my hip and watch the creek go by. “You say that as if I’m making some kind of indecent proposal, like I’m offering you a million dollars for one night of—”

“Sex. Isn’t that basically what you are doing, except without the money and the Hollywood script?”

“Fuck no.” Shit, I didn’t mean to cuss. “Pardon, I mean hell no.”

That finally gets a smile out of her. Sort of. At least the tips of her mouth are threatening to turn up. “Listen, I’m no stranger to salty language. What I am a stranger to is this kind of tit for tat you’re offering.”

Believe me, I’d love to make a joke about her tits and my tats, but I’m able to restrain myself this time. “I’m just talking about a bit of wine. Otherwise, there’re absolutely no obligations.”

She’s still not sold. “And when I don’t sleep with you, then what? Maybe you’ll do the Milton’s job or maybe you won’t? And, meanwhile, me and my family go broke?”

It’s possible that a tougher case than Gwen Milton does not exist on this planet. So I drop the teasing and sober up. “Hey, I didn’t earn my reputation as a contractor by screwing over my clients, especially when it’s a family business run by two women and their mom.”

She scans me again, then breathes easier, as if I’ve passed some kind of phase-one test. I think she’s even retracting her claws.

“Okay then,” she says. “We’ve got a deal.”

“Good. Then it’s a night of wine in exchange for my neighborly help. Sounds simple enough to me.” I’ve actually made progress with Gwen, and I’m feeling good, so I grin at her again. “Just so I’m clear, how do I know you’ll hold up your end of the bargain and come try that wine?”

I think it’s my persistence that puts her back on her heels again, and her pink lips part. For a blinding second, my lust goes silly while imagining those lips on mine … and on other parts of my body. Those other parts take instant notice, too, just like a hound dog raising its head. And you know what else that dog in me has suddenly caught on to? I think Gwen Milton likes this back and forth we’ve got going on; it’s even possible that she’s secretly enjoying how I’m giving her the business. She’s got a gleam in her eyes that wasn’t there before, and I don’t think it’s just because I’ve taken a load off her shoulders by agreeing to work on Milton’s.

Someone’s got a button that doesn’t often get pushed, and that button has everything to do with the possibility that she needs to put in a little work before she gets interested in a guy.

Well, well. We’ll see how that pans out.

She finally jerks her chin at me. “Do you seriously think I’m going to hose you by backing out on a deal?”

Based on my recent findings, I feel the time is right to start acting as if I could give less of a shit about this whole wine thing, anyway. “Hell, if a night of wine and relaxation is too much to ask, then we ought to drop it. I’ll still do the work, but—”

“A deal is a deal, and I never duck out.” She puts out her hand. “A handshake in Cherry Valley is just as good as a signed contract. So I will do your wine thing in exchange for your kind offer to work on Milton’s.”

I believe her, but I ignore her outstretched hand. Now that I suspect what Gwen is all about, I shouldn’t be in any hurry to shake.

She makes another attempt by shoving her hand at me again. “Seal the deal, Mr. Maxwell.”

“Mr. Maxwell? That’s rather formal.”

“Then Quinn. Whoever you are, just shake my hand.”

I think this is the best I’m going to get from her today, but damned if I’m not going to enjoy the fuck out of a handshake.

When I take her hand in mine, a shock nips at me, and from the lightning flash I see in her eyes, I’m pretty sure she feels something, too. So I keep holding her hand, my grip firm, my gut heating up because I like the feel of her warm skin against mine. Her grip is just as unyielding as mine is, and I decide that I’m going to let go first, just as if touching her is really no big deal. Maybe she’ll think I’m not sitting here getting all wound up merely from a damned shake.

Maybe she’ll want a little more the next time I see her.

I casually let go of her, and then take my phone out of my back pocket. “What’s your number?”

Her gaze goes cloudy, and I don’t know if it’s because she liked touching me too much or if it’s because she’s that much of a hard-ass about giving her digits to anyone.

I lift my eyebrows as if she can either make this easy or impossible. “No need to get excited about giving me your number. I just have to make arrangements with you to assess the damage at Milton’s.”

“I’m not excited,” she says in a rush. Then she rattles off her number while crossing her arms over her chest as if she’s not giving over even one more bit of herself to me.

At least not tonight.

I input the information. “Okay. I’ll be there at six. See you then?”

Before she can respond, I turn around as if whatever she says doesn’t matter to me. It’s odd, playing hard to get for the first time in my life.

But if this is what it takes to get her interested, then I’m all about running until she catches me.