The day that would never end—only haircuts, yuck—finally ended. A never-ending, mind-numbing rotation of clients every thirty minutes until I wanted to claw my hair out just to give me something to do. I let myself through the front door with a gusty, dramatic sigh. My final appointment (the only non-haircut on my whole damn calendar, of course) of the day had to cancel last minute, and I couldn’t even find it in myself to be annoyed because good sweet heavenly goodness, I was tired. Piper had woken up three times the previous night and there just wasn’t enough coffee in the greater Denver area that could’ve kept me energized all day.

Julia usually took the twins to Gymboree that day, so she wasn’t due to drop off the twins for another hour, and I just couldn’t turn down the opportunity for a quiet house. Yeah, the pants would come off, the bra following shortly after, and I fully intended on falling face first into the couch for every single one of those sixty minutes.

I dropped my keys onto the bright red console table along the front entry wall and toed off one shoe. Just as I was moving to the other shoe, Michael rounded the corner. I screamed and started tripping over my half-removed shoe.

Shirtless, tool belt around his narrow waist, sweaty-chested Michael caught me easily.

Against the abs.

And the slight trail of dark hair that followed the line dissecting those muscles.

My fingers curled into the sweat-slicked skin of his rounded biceps and I tried to dig really deep to feel weird about it. For the awkwardness to kick in. But he was smiling widely at me, thoroughly amused at my graceless reaction, and that awkwardness was nowhere to be found.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, trying to sound firm, but nope … just came out breathless and all whispery. Because I was still holding on to him, and he was staring into my face like he wanted to scoop the thoughts out of my brain. We’d be in so much trouble if he could do that, because I hadn’t had abs like that pressed against me in umm, ever.

“Doing my laundry,” he answered easily. His eyes darted down to my lips, and for a single delicious second, everything seized up inside of me in a tight, hot ball of tension that I felt down to the tips of my toes. Ohhhhhhkay, this was bad.

He stared at me. I stared at him. And neither of us moved. In the back of my mind, buried behind all sorts of not fun things, I wondered why we were still standing pressed like that. His arm was caught around my waist, but I’d found my footing by now. No danger of a concussion or anything. No more screaming at his surprise presence. Just heavy breathing and swoony eyes.

Michael had swoony eyes trained on me real hard. All it would take was a slight lean upward. Maybe if I lifted up on tiptoe, his mouth would fit against mine perfectly. I could practically taste him, even though neither of us had moved. He was searching my face for clues, for any sort of green light, or red light, and there I was struggling not to have a heart attack.

My tongue made the decision for me, and not in the fun, french-kissing sort of way.

“It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?” I whispered without thinking. It would be so easy, so effortless to lift up onto my toes and fit my lips over his, to let the crackling wave of attraction rule our thinking. And I knew Michael would be an incredible kisser, those lips could’ve only been created to be used by someone who knew what the hell he was doing.

His eyes closed briefly, and the loss of his warm brown eyes made me sad. I liked his eyes quite a lot. When he opened them again, his lips curved into a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. It would.”

Maybe it should have scared me that Michael knew exactly what I meant, that my whispered words didn’t need any other explanation. Because he was there, right there with me in this.

It was obvious by the regret in his face that he didn’t want to let me go, but let me go he did. To give my hands something to do besides play connect the muscles on his lovely, lovely stomach, I smoothed down the front of my shirt.

“I must have forgotten that you were starting today,” I said in the heavy, throbbing silence between us.

Michael scratched at his chest and I tried not to whimper. “Yeah, sorry. I must have gotten my times messed up. I thought I had a while yet to get finished up with some demo.”

I waved that off. “No, I’m early. Julia won’t be bringing the twins back for another hour or so.”

He nodded absently, but I noticed his eyes flick to my mouth again and I tried not to squirm in place. He’d know how to do things. Good things. Things I hadn’t felt in for-freaking-ever. They’d feel so delicious, so explosive and my brain started flipping through the rolodex of what all those things would be.

“We need rules,” I blurted out.

Michael immediately started laughing, and secretly, I loved that I didn’t even have to explain myself. He propped his hands on his hips and gave me an amused look that I felt roll around my belly.

“What kind of rules?”

“You have to wear a shirt when I’m home.”

Ass. What did he do? He smiled devilishly, smiled slowly. Then he lazily patted his stomach, which was tighter than a freaking snare drum. “Okay. Rule number one: I wear a shirt when you’re home.” One eyebrow lifted on his face. “Should I go get it now while we finish this conversation? Or are there more?”

“Oh. Umm, I think that’s my only rule for right now.” And what an important rule it was. I couldn’t be held accountable for my actions if I was faced with his walking-billboard-body strutting around my house for the next few weeks.

“I can’t have rules?”

I scoffed. “Well I’m certainly not going to be walking around without a shirt on.”

He snapped his fingers. “Damn.”

All I did was give him a dry look, but inside, I wanted to smile so badly.

“Fine. My rule for you is that you’re not allowed to smell so nice.”

“What?”

“Yeah. How is that fair?” He spread his arms out like he’d fully explained himself.

“I’ve been standing in a salon all day. I probably smell like hair spray.”

Michael shook his head. “Untrue. You smell like happiness. Like something so good and sweet that I want to find the spot on your body where it smells the strongest.”

I pointed a shaking finger at him while my heart skipped about a thousand beats. “Rule number two. No flirting. That shit right there can’t happen.”

“Cruel woman,” he said sadly. “Do you know how hard it is for me to not flirt? You might as well chop off my leg. And around you? I don’t stand a chance to keep it to myself.”

“You’re still doing it,” I cried.

He laughed, the bright white of his teeth showing against his tan skin. Could I make a rule that he couldn’t smile? Was that allowed? No, probably a bit too far. Plus, if he took that away, I’d miss it too much.

Michael held his hands up. “Sorry, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

He regarded me more seriously. “I don’t do it to be disrespectful. I’m sorry if it came off that way.”

“No,” I told him quickly. “It wasn’t that, honestly. It’s just … I really don’t have a lot of friends. And I think … I think maybe you’re one of them now.”

His smile was soft, no teeth this time. I liked that one. “I’d like that.”

“And it would be easy,” I said softly. “To go … there. That’s not something I’m ready for in my life right now. Even though I’m not stupid enough to pretend like there’s not attraction here.”

“Good. I agree with you. Because I don’t just flirt with anyone.”

I lifted an eyebrow.

“I don’t,” he insisted, and if the look in his eyes wasn’t so playful, I’d think he was feeling a bit defensive. His expression smoothed out before he spoke again. “I’m not here to make your life more difficult, Brooke. Scout’s honor. I can be a good boy.”

A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it. “Okay. Time will tell.”

He lifted his chin toward the back of the house. “Want to come see?”

“Obviously.”

While we walked down the hallway, not even the scent of dust and the mess he’d tried to contain by hanging plastic from the ceiling distracted me from the view of shifting back muscles in front of me. Michael wasn’t bulky like a weight lifter, but there was a sleekness to him, the kind of catlike muscularity that was unfortunately, an Achilles heel of mine.

Michael pushed the thick plastic sheet aside so that I could walk into the now decimated laundry room and I coughed at the dust floating in the air.

“Wow,” I said, staring into the mess of a room. All the cabinets and the washer and dryer were pulled from the wall. He’d ripped up the flooring and taken all the trim off, since we’d decided to start with a completely blank slate for this space. Thankfully, my parents had been perfectly fine with his final estimate once Anna and I had made some final decisions on finishes, and they signed the paperwork immediately.

“Yeah. I’m going to start on that back wall tomorrow, as long as you still plan on not being here. It’ll be a loud day.” He gave me a small smile and gestured to the sledgehammer leaning up against the wall.

“Oooh. That looks fun.”

He laughed and snagged his white t-shirt off the toolbox that I hadn’t noticed in the corner. “Well, if you get home in time, I’ll let you take a few swings. It’s a good stress reliever.”

“Ha. Probably wouldn’t turn that down.” I peered around the corner and nodded. “Doesn’t look like much now, but I’m excited to get it started.”

Michael watched me for a few moments and opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to change his mind.

“What?” I prodded him.

He smiled a little. “Is it driving you crazy? This disrupting your whole world for a bit. I can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”

Well knock me down with a feather. Boy was all sorts of perceptive.

“Why do you say that?” I couldn’t help it.

“Probably the color coded schedule on your fridge. I had no idea people could make schedules out of feedings and amount of sleep.”

My cheeks heated but I didn’t apologize. “Well, you try and do the single parent thing with twins. You’d be breaking out the label maker so fast.” I shrugged, feeling strangely exposed to him, like he’d peeled back the hard plastic layer outside of a live wire, and what was inside was me. If he touched me when I felt like this, he’d probably never recover. “Some days it’s hard for me to remember what I ate for breakfast, so if I don’t write it down, it didn’t happen. When the pediatrician asks me how many servings of veggies they’re getting, I need to know, and I’m not with them all the time. Or how much they sleep during the day. It’s the only way I stay sane, the only way I feel like I’ve still got a pulse on what’s going on with them when I’m not the person taking care of them.”

When he nudged me with his shoulder, I was so happy the shirt was back on, because even with it on, I could feel the heat of his skin. “No need to justify yourself. My mom used to do something similar.”

“Yeah?” I didn’t know much of anything about he and Tristan’s background. And by much of anything, I meant nothing.

“Single mom,” was all he said, eyebrows lifted.

My head tilted to the side as I regarded him. “Really?”

“From the time I turned two. She’s still single. Dad wasn’t really in the picture.”

Shame made my skin flush cold, then prickle hot. I’d immediately assumed that when he made the single mom comment his first day here, it was because of his reputation.

“Michael,” I started, then held up my hand when he tried to interrupt me. “No, please.”

He swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable with the shift of topic. His eyes swept the room, landing anywhere but on me.

“I’m sorry about what I said the other night. I had no idea.”

Finally, he looked at me. “No apology necessary. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

“But still, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. That was inconsiderate.”

Michael held my eyes, when I expected him to make a joke or something. “Not like I’m not used to it. People assume a lot of things about me. But thank you for saying something anyway.”

My forehead creased at his words, and I was about to ask when I heard Julia let herself into the front door.

“Honey, I’m home,” she called out, barely audible over the jabbering of my little heathens.

“Go ahead,” Michael said. “I’ll finish cleaning up and get out of your hair.”

“Thanks.” I probably would’ve said something else, because the ending felt abrupt, felt uncomfortable and unfinished, but he’d already turned his back to plug in his shop vac. He didn’t turn it on until the plastic sheet closed behind me, and it took everything in me not to glance back over my shoulder at him.

Julia smiled at me while she set Piper down on the floor, along with their diaper bag. “How was your day?”

I swept up my daughter and blew a raspberry into her neck, which made her giggle. “Mind-numbingly horrible,” I answered in a pleasant voice. “If I had to make inane small talk with one more client, I think I would’ve accidentally chopped off a finger just to add some excitement into my day.”

“Ma ma ma ma,” Piper jabbered, smacking her hands on my shoulders while I hugged her.

“Hey, bugaboo. Were you nice for Auntie Julia?”

“A perfect angel, of course. Cole fed her dinner right before I left. She had some macaroni noodles with that veggie pasta sauce, but that was about it. Wouldn’t touch the peaches, just like you said.”

I kissed Piper’s nose. “She’s nothing if not predictable.”

Julia laughed. “I’ll go grab the other one.”

“Thanks.”

The whine of the Shop-Vac turned off just as Julia walked back in with Jacob, who squealed and smiled at me. He was reaching for me when Michael turned the corner and of course, took the attention off me completely.

Piper toddled over to him, holding onto the wall for stability, and Jacob laughed when Michael tickled his side.

“Hey, trouble,” Michael said.

“Want to hold him?” Julia asked.

“I was addressing you. But nah, I better not. I’m all sweaty and covered in dust.”

Julia rolled her eyes, but she had a smile on her face. From what she’d told me, Michael came over to her and Cole’s house a lot. Actually, from what I’d heard, the first time she met Michael, it was right after she and Cole had, umm, reconnected for the first time, and she was pants-free in the kitchen. The first time she told me the story, I snorted water up my nose from the image.

He patted Piper’s head. “Hey, sweetpea. I’ll pick you up the next time I’m here, okay?” When he passed me, he wagged a finger in my face. “Don’t forget your rules.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I’ll make sure to.”

Michael only winked and slugged Julia in the shoulder before he pulled the door shut behind him. A few seconds later, his truck rumbled off down the street.

Julia was staring openly at me, not even attempting to be coy. “What rules?”

“None of your business,” I said primly, and took Jacob from her arms. He started gnawing on my face in his weird little version of a kiss, and it didn’t faze either of us in the slightest. “Just laying some ground rules as we start the project. Schedules and all that.”

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes narrowed. Ugh, older sisters were so annoying when they saw through you. “Just be careful with him.”

“I thought you liked Michael.”

“I do. I love him. I know I’m not supposed to have favorites of Cole’s friends, but he’s totally my favorite. Probably because I spend the most time with him.”

I set Jacob on the floor so he could play with Piper. “I sense a but coming.”

“Nope. No buts. Michael is great. And in a couple years when he grows up a bit, I think he’ll make a great partner for the right girl. Lord knows he’ll need someone to knock him on his ass in order to change his life.”

The rush of defensiveness was on the tip of my tongue so fast that it took a lot of work to swallow it back down. Especially after the way my conversation with him had ended, about people constantly assuming things about him. But Michael wasn’t in a position where he needed me to defend him just yet. Julia hadn’t even really said anything bad. So I took a deep breath and prayed she hadn’t seen any steam coming from my ears or something.

“Yeah, I bet.” Even that tepid agreement felt like I’d done something wrong.

And that was just about as weird as anything that had happened with Michael.