He opened his eyes to find her gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then the relief turned into regret as he second-guessed himself. He could usually read the signs with women—tell the difference between flirting and an innocent conversation. With Jules, he couldn’t.

* * *

“You told him you’d had a crush on him?” Melissa asked from the bottom of the stepladder the next day.

Jules removed the next in a cluster of ’50s movie star portraits that hung on a wall of the restaurant. “I was trying to... I don’t know.” She’d had more than a few hours to regret her words.

“Did you not think it would sound flirty?”

Jules handed the portrait of Grace Kelly down to Melissa and reached for Elizabeth Taylor. “I didn’t mean for it to be flirty.”

“It was flirty.”

“I realize that now.”

“What were you thinking then?”

“That it would be charming. I was being open and honest, sharing a slightly embarrassing story. I thought it might make me seem human.”

“He knows you’re human.”

“In the end it was just humiliating.” Jules handed down the Elizabeth Taylor.

“So, you learned something.” Melissa crossed the room to set the portraits in a cardboard box on the bar.

“I learned that he has zero interest in flirting with me.”

“I was thinking maybe a broader point about relationships, time and place, and appropriate comments.”

Jules climbed down and moved the ladder, settling it into place where she could read the next three portraits. “Oh, that. No.”

Melissa grinned. “Tell me more about the crush. I wish you’d told me about it back then.”

“You were too young.”

“It still would have been exciting.”

It had certainly been exciting for Jules. “I was fifteen. He was tall, and he shaved, and he lived in a mansion on the hill. And I was fresh out of grade nine English class. Between the Brontë sisters and Shakespeare, I spun a pretty interesting fantasy.”

“I don’t even remember him from back then.”

“That’s because you were only twelve.”

“What I remember most is Grandma’s hot chocolate. It was so nice, coming here, spending time with her, especially after Mom died.”

“I miss them both.”

Melissa gave Jules’s arm a squeeze. “Me, too. But I don’t miss the squirrels waking us up in the morning.”

Jules handed Audrey Hepburn to Melissa. “I hated those squirrels.”

“You really should have thought of that before we moved back here. They’re going to wake us up every morning.”

“Do you think we could livetrap them, relocate them like they do with bears?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Jules thought about it for a moment as she handed down Jayne Mansfield. “I wonder what we’d need for bait.”

“Going fishing?” The sound of Caleb’s voice startled her, and she swayed, grabbing the top of the ladder to steady herself.

“Whoa.” Caleb surged toward her.

“Steady girl,” Melissa said.

“I’m fine.” Jules regained her balance.

She focused on his forehead instead of meeting his eyes. She’d pretend nothing awkward had happened last night. Hopefully, he’d play along and they could both ignore it.

“Should you be up on that ladder?” he asked.

“I was fine until you scared me.” Jules turned back to her work and reached for Doris Day.

“You were talking about fishing?”

“We were?” Jules couldn’t figure out why he thought that.

“You said we needed bait,” Melissa put in.

“Matt can take you fishing,” Caleb said. He was hovering beside Melissa, looking like he wanted to take over the operation. “Do you need a hand with that?”

“Why are you suddenly being nice?” Jules asked as she handed over the next portrait.

She’d prefer it if they were cordial to each other. But after their argument yesterday and their encounter last night, she’d expected him to avoid her, not to drop by and pretend they were friends.

“I’m not being nice,” he said.

“Who’s Matt?” Melissa asked as she crossed the room with Doris in her hands.

“He owns the marina.” Caleb took over from Melissa and braced both sides of the ladder.

“All those yachts?” Melissa asked.

“He has a charter service.”

“Out of our price range,” Jules put in. She could only imagine the exorbitant cost of renting one of the lavish-looking yachts.

“He won’t charge you.”

Jules took a step lower on the ladder, expecting Caleb to move back and give her room. “We’re not going fishing.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Melissa said.

“I can set it up.” Caleb didn’t move.

Jules turned before she took another step down. Deciding she’d prefer to face him while edging into his space.

“We’re far too busy to fish,” she said, meeting him at eye level.

“Exactly how long would we need for a trip like that?” Melissa asked.

“How are you not suspicious of this?” Jules spoke to Melissa but kept her gaze locked on Caleb. “An enemy bearing gifts?”

“I’m not your enemy.” Caleb’s deep voice seemed to rumble through her. There was a challenge in his gray eyes. One more step down, and she’d practically be in his arms.

She wasn’t going to be the one to back down. She took the final step. “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” She told herself to ignore the sizzle of arousal that skipped across her skin. He was a great-looking guy, and she had some emotional baggage where it came to him. But she could handle it. She could easily handle it.

He drew a deep breath, his broad chest expanding. A few more inches and they would be touching. She wondered how he’d handle that. She should make it happen and find out.

“The contractor’s here,” Melissa said, as a vehicle engine sounded outside in the parking lot.

“You need me?” Jules made to move, thinking she’d probably just been saved from...something with Caleb.

“Nope. I’ll just show him around,” Melissa said and headed for the door.

“We don’t need to be competitors.” Caleb firmed his stance as he spoke to Jules.

“We’re not competitors.” She wondered how long he intended to keep her trapped. She eased slightly forward to test his boundaries. “I have a noncompete agreement, so you can’t build Neo.”

Caleb leaned in himself, as if he could read her thoughts. “Neo’s not your competition.”

“I know it’s not. Because it doesn’t exist.”

“I mean, if it did exist. We’d cater to a different clientele.”

“The Crab Shack caters to seafood eaters. What does Neo do?”

“Neo’s high-end. The Crab Shack is casual.”

“What makes you say that?”

He seemed surprised by her words. He glanced around the building, taking in the aging brick, the torn linoleum and the rustic wood beams. “It’s humble, basic, kitschy. Don’t get me wrong—”

“How could I take that wrong?” She crossed her arms, and her elbows touched his chest. She tipped her head, recapturing his gaze and letting her annoyance tighten her expression.

“If you were to go high-end,” he said.

She waited. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t backed off yet.

Instead, he increased the connection between them, his chest pressing along the length of her forearms. It was a firm chest, a sexy chest and an amazing chest. For a second, she lost her train of thought.

“If you were to go high-end,” he said. “We’d be complementary. We could feed customers to each other. You’ve seen it, a restaurant district or an auto mall. We could become a seafood restaurant cluster—the place to go in greater Olympia for terrific seafood.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“So you’re interested?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a pretty good argument, Caleb. It’s not true, but A for ingenuity.”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was either admiration or annoyance, maybe a bit of both. “There are examples of it all over the world.”

“Neo’s a nationally known and renowned chain. You’d annihilate the Crab Shack.”

Melissa’s and the contractor’s voices were muffled as they talked outside on the deck.

“You’re not going to agree to this, are you?” Caleb asked.

“No.”

“We’re not going to be friendly?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Okay.” He nodded. He let go of the ladder and rocked back, breaking their contact. “I guess I’ll go back to my corner and come out swinging.”

She wasn’t disappointed, she told herself. And she definitely didn’t miss his touch.

“But first,” he said, surprising her by reaching back to cup her cheek with his palm. “Since I probably can’t make the situation much worse...”

His intent was clear. She told herself to say no, to turn her head, to step sideways. There was nothing stopping her. She was free to move and shut this down.

But she didn’t. Instead, she surrendered to nine years of fantasy and parted her lips as he closed the space between them.

Two

Before his lips even touched Jules’s, Caleb knew he was making a huge mistake. He also knew he didn’t care.

He’d lain awake half the night thinking about her, picturing her on the trail outside her house, reliving her saying she’d had a crush on him. He should have kissed her right then. Any other man would have kissed her right then.

Now her cheek was soft against his palm, warm and smooth. He edged his fingers into her silky hair, and his lips finally covered hers. He kept the kiss soft. He wanted to devour her, but he didn’t want to scare her, and he sure didn’t want her to push him away.

Her lips softened. They parted. He firmed his grip, anchoring her mouth to his, while his free hand went around her waist. Desire pulsed through his body, arousal awakening his senses. He gave in to temptation and touched his tongue to hers.

She moaned, and his arm wound around her, bringing their bodies flush together. He deepened the kiss, bending her slightly backward. His body temperature rose, and he could feel the pulse of the ocean, or maybe it was the beat of his heart.

Melissa’s voice penetrated from outside, saying something about the roof. Her footsteps sounded on the deck. A man’s voice rose in response to her question.

Jules’s hands went to Caleb’s shoulders, and she gave the slightest push.

He reacted immediately, pulling back, her flushed cheeks coming into focus, along with her swollen lips and glazed blue eyes.

He wanted it again. He wanted more. He absolutely did not want to stop.

“I’ve made it worse,” he said, half to himself.

“We can’t do that,” she said, obviously voicing her own train of thought.

“No kidding.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“You could have said no.” This wasn’t all on him.

Her smile looked self-conscious. “I know. I’m talking about more than just the kiss.”

“Tell me why?” He didn’t know why he cared, but he did.

“Why I can’t trust you?”

“Yes.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I can’t trust you, because I can’t trust you.”

He wasn’t buying it. “That’s a circular argument. You’re too smart for that.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing back against the ladder. “I can’t trust you because you’re a Watford.”

He knew he should walk away, but his feet stayed stubbornly still. “You barely know me.”

“I know your family.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I know you want me to compromise my interests.”

“Not really,” he said.

She cocked her head and sent him a frown of disbelief.

“Only a little bit,” he amended. “But it’ll work in the long run. I know it’ll work in the long run. For both of us.”

“Are you lying to yourself or just to me?”

“I’m not lying.”

“You definitely inherited it,” she said, apparently growing tired of waiting for him to back off. She slipped sideways, putting some distance between them.

“Inherited what?” He watched her go with regret.

“The gift of persuasion. Just like your father and grandfather, you’re confident in your ability to talk your way out of or into anything.”

Caleb wasn’t like his father or his grandfather. At least he didn’t want to be like them. He tried very hard to mitigate his father’s character traits in himself. For the most part, he thought he succeeded.

“That’s not fair,” he said.

“Fair?” She gave a light laugh. “A Watford talking about fair? Let me add to that. A Watford talking about fair while he tries to talk a Parker out of something?”

Caleb knew he’d lost this round. There was no way she was going to listen to reason. At least not right now. The kiss had been a colossal error.

Then again, it was a fantastic kiss. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it. If that kiss was the biggest mistake he made today, it was going to be a good day.

“No comeback?” she asked. “Come on, Caleb. You’re disappointing me.”

“Is there anything I can say to change your opinion?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then is there any chance you’ll go out with me?”

The question seemed to take her aback, and it took her a second to respond. “You mean like on a date?”

“Yeah. You and me. Dinner, dancing, whatever.” He wasn’t exactly sure how they’d separate their personal attraction from their business interests, but he was more than willing to give it a try.

“Is that a joke? Are you trying to put me off balance?”

“Yes, I’m trying to put you off balance.” He took a couple of steps toward her. “But no, it’s not a joke. There’s obviously an attraction between us.”

“We have nothing in common.”

“I like kissing you.” And he was pretty confident that she liked kissing him.

Her expression didn’t soften at all. “I bet you like kissing a whole lot of women.”

Not as much as he liked kissing her. But the accusation was fundamentally true. And he didn’t want to lie to her. “I suppose I do.”

“Then take one of them out on a date.”

“I’d rather take you.”

“You’re too much.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“Give the man a gold star.”

The answer surprised him. “You admit to being stubborn?”

“Oh, yes.” She jabbed her finger against his chest. “And you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

He trapped her hand, holding it against his heart. “Fightin’ words?”

“You said it yourself. We’re both going back to our corners now to come out swinging.”

Her eyes were alight, her cheeks still flushed, her lips were still swollen from his kisses, and he could see a little pulse at the base of her neck. She was the sexiest woman on the planet.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, snatching her hand from his grip.

He couldn’t help but grin. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”

“You better not.”

“I’ll make you a deal.”

She shook her head.

“Not a business deal. A personal deal. Next time, you have to be the one to kiss me.” Even as he said the words, he feared he was making a mistake.

She might never decide to kiss him. But he had no choice. He couldn’t take the chance of misreading her signals.

Melissa bounced through the doorway, enthusiasm in her expression and in her tone. “Jules, this is Noah Glover. He’s offered to help us with the renovation.”

Jules expression immediately neutralized, erasing their kiss, their argument and everything else. Noah Glover had walked in, and she’d given him a brilliant smile that made Caleb jealous.

Noah was tall and brawny, with an unshaven face and a shaggy haircut. He looked like the kind of guy who worked all day out in the weather.

Jules smoothly closed the space between them. “Nice to meet you, Noah.”

They shook, and Caleb felt another shot of jealousy. He gave himself a ruthless shake. It was one thing to want to kiss her, even hold her, even strip her naked and make love to her—which he did. But it was something else altogether to be jealous of a man shaking her hand. He wasn’t about to let that happen.

“I hope Melissa warned you we’re on a tight budget,” Jules said to Noah. “We want to do as much of the work as we can ourselves.”

“I can work with a budget,” Noah said. “And as much work as you’re willing to do is fine with me.”

“That sounds perfect.” She was still shaking his hand.

That was it? The entire interview? They were going to hire the guy right here and now? What about reference checks?

Caleb stepped up and stuck out his own hand. “Caleb Watford. I’m a neighbor.” He wanted this Noah guy to know he couldn’t simply stride in and take advantage of Jules and Melissa.

“Nice to meet you,” Noah said.

His grip was firm. Of course his grip was firm. He was a carpenter. But Caleb was no slouch. From what he could see, they were about the same height. Caleb could bench press one-eighty, but Noah had a lot more calluses.

“And our sworn enemy,” Jules said.

Caleb slid her a look of annoyance. Did she have no idea that he was trying to help?

“What happened while I was gone?” Melissa asked, glancing from one to the other.

“Nothing,” Jules said quickly. “Well, more of the same.”

“I’m happy to get started tomorrow,” Noah said to the women. “If you pull together your budget, I’ll get going on some estimates, and we can see what we have for options.”

His voice was deep. Caleb wasn’t crazy to learn that. He’d heard women liked men with deep voices. It was supposed to instill a sense of confidence. He didn’t want Jules feeling overconfident with this stranger.

Caleb had never heard of Noah Glover. Was he local to the Whiskey Bay area? Was he passing through? His truck outside was old and battered, and he wasn’t exactly a poster child for professionalism. Caleb was definitely going to check him out.

“I’m up for that,” Melissa said. “I’m excited to get started.”

Noah gave her a nod. “Until tomorrow, then.” He gave a parting smile to Jules before he left the building.

“He really seems to know what he’s doing,” Melissa said as she watched him leave.

“You just met him,” Caleb said.

Both women looked at him in surprise.

“How can you judge his competency?” Caleb doubted either Jules or Melissa had any expertise in construction.

“He seemed open and straightforward,” Melissa said. “Talked in plain language. He came highly recommended.”

“Did you check his reviews?” Caleb asked.

“Melissa has a business degree,” Jules said.

That was news to Caleb. He didn’t know why it surprised him.

“Of course I checked his reviews,” Melissa said. “I am aware of the internet.”

Caleb wasn’t sure whether to backpedal or press forward. “I only meant...”

Jules’s voice turned to a sarcastic purr. “That sweet li’l young things like us might not know how to manage in the big bad world?”

He frowned at her. “I wondered why you’d trust him in a heartbeat and be so suspicious of me.”

“Experience and good judgment,” she said.

“That’s not fair.”

“I told you before, Caleb. You’re a Watford. There isn’t a reason in the world for me to be fair to you.”

* * *

“He really is hot,” Melissa said two days later.

Jules looked up from where she was stripping varnish from the wooden bar, expecting to see Caleb walk through the door. But he wasn’t there. At least, she couldn’t see him.

Melissa was pulling down the window trim, while Noah was outside setting up a survey level on a tripod.

Jules was momentarily confused and, she hated to admit, a little disappointed. Caleb might be annoying, but he was also interesting. He energized a room.

“You mean Noah?” she asked her sister.

“Who else would I mean? Look at those shoulders and those biceps.”

“He does seem to be in good shape,” Jules agreed.

She hadn’t thought of Noah as particularly hot, although she supposed he was fairly good-looking in a rugged, earthy kind of way. He was dressed in a khaki green T-shirt and a pair of tan cargo pants. A tool belt was slung low on his hips, and his steel-toed boots were scuffed and worn. He had sandy-blond hair, thick and a little shaggy.

“I can’t stop staring at him,” Melissa said.

“I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type.”

The men Melissa had dated in college had been mostly preppy intellectuals, sometimes even poets. Occasionally, she’d talked about seeing an athlete. There was one basketball player she’d stayed with for a couple of months.

“Hot and sexy? Whose type is that not?”

Jules smiled, taking another look at Noah through her safety glasses. “So you mean as eye candy.”

Personally, she found him a bit dusty for eye candy. But if Melissa found him entertaining while she took on the drudge work of renovating, Jules was happy for her.

“Don’t let him slow you down,” Jules said.

“I can look and rip trim at the same time.”

“Make sure you don’t stab yourself with a nail.”

“They’re finishing nails, teeny-tiny finishing nails. Do you think if it gets hot enough he’ll consider taking off his shirt?”

“I think if you ask him we get sued. Sexual harassment goes both ways, you know.”

“I won’t ask him, at least, not flat out.”

“You can’t ask him at all. You can’t even hint.”

“I can hope.”

“I suppose there’s no such thing as the mind police,” Jules said.

Melissa grinned. “That’s a good thing. Because what I’m imagining is probably illegal in most states.”

“Please don’t tell me.”

“You’re such a prude.”

Jules scrunched her eyes shut, not allowing any untoward mental pictures to form. “Pink fuzzy bunnies. Pink fuzzy bunnies,” she chanted out loud, bringing the harmless image into her mind.

Melissa laughed at her antics.

“I obviously missed something.” This time it was Caleb.

Jules popped open her eyes to find him standing in the doorway again.

Talk about hot and sexy. He wore blue jeans, an open-collar white shirt and a midnight blue blazer. He looked casual and classy all at the same time, putting the rest of the male world to shame.

“Pink fuzzy bunnies?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Inside joke,” Melissa said. “It’s our mantra to keep nasty images at bay.”

Caleb glanced around. “Is there something nasty?”

“Not at all,” Melissa said, her blue eyes flashing mischief before she looked out the window again.

Jules told herself to stop ogling Caleb. “Can we help you with something?”

“I’ve been doing some research on your project,” he said as he stepped inside.

She adjusted her gloves and went determinedly back to working on the varnish removal with a paint scraper. “You’re just the Energizer Bunny, aren’t you?”

He kept moving toward her. “You’ve obviously got a rabbit theme going here.”

“Stay back,” she warned. “This stuff is dangerous.”

He stopped but frowned. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.” She dug the blade into the tacky solution and scraped it off in a layer.

“Have you done this before?”

“I watched a YouTube video.” She wiped away the goo with a rag and started on another strip.

“So, your answer is no.”

“My answer is ‘it’s none of your business.’”

He seemed to find her response amusing. “You’re very prickly.”

“And you’re a cocklebur.”

“A what?”

“A prickly plant. Something that digs in and sticks to you and won’t let go.”

“Oh. Okay, my mind went to a completely different place with that.”

Jules struggled not to smile. She didn’t want to encourage him. Or maybe she did. She didn’t like that he felt so free to interfere in her life, but she’d admit he was at least as entertaining for her as Noah was for Melissa.

A low clatter sounded from the window where Melissa was working. She swore.

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