“We met the nicest people last night and we were standing right there with them, at the all you can eat luau buffet, when their daughter called to tell them they were going to be grandparents. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Sure is.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, even though it was one of the least subtle hints her mom had thrown out there, but it wasn’t easy pre-caffeine. To be on the safe side, she rummaged for the instant coffee and put on the teakettle, rather than risking turning the coffeemaker on and blowing another fuse.
Five minutes later, she almost dropped her freshly made coffee when somebody knocked on the door. As it was, she made a squeaky startled sound and had to dance around not to slosh the hot liquid on her stockinged feet.
“Was that the door?” her mother asked. “Do you have company?”
Chloe could see Scott Quinn through the door’s window, his head bowed as if talking to his dog. “It’s...nobody. A package from a client.”
“But UPS doesn’t get to our area until at least two-thirty. It’s usually closer to four.”
“Special courier, Mom. Big project. Time sensitive.” If she was going to lie, she may as well throw in a reason she couldn’t hang around and chat. “I’ve gotta run.”
When she opened the door, Scott’s smile was a little on the broad side of a polite good morning and Chloe realized that, not only was she in her pajamas still, but she hadn’t been in front of a mirror yet.
“I’ll be right back,” she said as soon as he and Kojak were in out of the cold.
She hit the bathroom first, sparing a few minutes for hair and teeth—though she didn’t take the time for mascara and lipstick—then threw on some clothes. While it was tempting to give him a hard time about stopping by unannounced so early, a glance at the clock told her it was ten o’clock. Practically midday by rural Maine standards.
“Would you like some coffee?” she offered when she made it back to the kitchen. “It’s instant, though, because I’m afraid to turn the coffeemaker on without unplugging everything else in the house.”
“I’m all set, thanks.” She watched him look around the kitchen in the full daylight. “Wow, that microwave’s really...vintage.”
“Pretty sure it’s really fried, too, so they can buy themselves a new one for Christmas.”
With nothing to keep her hands or, more importantly, her eyes busy, she had nothing left to do but look at him. Unlike her mother’s kitchen, Scott Quinn looked just as good in the daylight, especially when he sat in a kitchen chair and leaned his arms on the table. She couldn’t decide whether to watch his T-shirt ripple across his back or the denim stretch across his thighs, so she forced herself to look at Kojak, instead, who plopped at his feet.
“Did you come up with an estimate for the rewiring?” she asked when she was sure her voice wouldn’t be all breathless and inviting.
“It’s not just rewiring. The service needs to be upgraded to a 200-amp panel too.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded expensive. “What’s the bottom line?”
“Here’s the deal. This house is older than sliced bread, which means I don’t know what I’m going to find when I dig into it. To protect myself in case I find funky construction and places I can’t feed wires, I’d have to bid high. When it comes to old work like this, it’s more fair to me and usually cheaper for you if I do it T&M.”
“T&M?”
“Time and materials. I’d give you an hourly rate and the price of materials as I go.”
She was born at night, but it wasn’t last night. “So you get to rip all the wiring out of the house and then, if I balk at what you’re charging me, my parents get to party like it’s 1853.”
“I can give you a rough ballpark, but I can’t make it a binding agreement.” The amount he quoted was a lot less than she’d anticipated. “Look, this is a small town with a big memory. If I screw people like John and Anna over, how long do you think I’d stay in business?”
Good point. When she was in elementary school there was a little deli across from the gas station. One fateful weekend the owner had refused to honor a sale price on pickle loaf misprinted in the newspaper and he’d gone out of business two months later. “When can you start?”
“I’ve got to install a subpanel for the Rheinhardts tomorrow so Carl doesn’t burn their house down trying to win the neighborhood’s Christmas light grudge match, and I’ve got plans this weekend, but I can start Monday.”
“Since it’s going to be a few days, is there any way you can locate just one safe outlet for me? One that won’t fry my laptop if the doorbell rings?”
“Sure, I can do that. Hey, Kojak, fetch Wiggy.” The dog took off toward his tool bucket and Chloe gave him a questioning look. “I told you he’s my assistant.”
“Wiggy?”
“Oh. That’s my solenoid voltmeter.”
“And you named it Wiggy?”
That seemed to throw him for a second, but then he laughed. “No, that’s what the manufacturer calls them. Do I look like the kind of guy who’d name his tool?”
Though she tried to keep a straight face, amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth. He’d walked right into that one.
“Don’t answer that.”
He took his tester from Kojak and spent a few minutes checking her outlets. “The living room’s good. Any of the outlets in here will be fine. And, just so you know, I’ll be able to do little bits of the house at a time but on Monday, when I change the service over, I’ll have to cut the power for an hour and a half or so. Probably late afternoon, after I get it all ready for the switch.”
“I’ll make sure my laptop’s charged, and the extra battery, too, but I appreciate the warning. I just hope my dad doesn’t hop a helicopter flight off the cruise ship to put a stop to it.”
“Don’t tell them. Let it be a surprise.”
She snorted. “I already heard from my mother this morning, wanting to know why you were here last night. There’s no way I could hide you being here every day for three weeks.”
He gave her a lecherous eyebrow wiggle that made her laugh. “You could tell her we’re having a torrid affair.”
She felt the heat climb into her face and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to hide it. If torrid meant hot and sweaty, she was in. “You’re a funny guy.”
After grabbing his tool bucket and calling Kojak, he turned and gave her a wink. “See you Monday.”
She waved, hoping like hell she could rid herself of thoughts of hot, sweaty sex and Scott before then. Three weeks was a very long time.
* * * * *
Buy HOLIDAY SPARKS by Shannon Stacey from Carina Press or your favorite online retailer!
Copyright © 2010 by Shannon Stacey
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shannon Stacey lives with her husband and two sons in New England, where her two favorite activities are writing stories of happily ever after and riding her four-wheeler. From May to November, the Stacey family spends their weekends on their ATVs, making loads of muddy laundry to keep Shannon busy when she’s not at her computer. She prefers writing to laundry, however, and considers herself lucky she got to be an author when she grew up.
You can contact Shannon through her website, shannonstacey.com, where she has maintains an almost daily blog, or visit her on Twitter at twitter.com/shannonstacey, her Facebook page, facebook.com/shannonstacey.authorpage, or email her at [email protected].
Celebrate the season with three holiday novellas from Shannon Stacey, available now!
Holiday Sparks
House-sitting for her parents seemed like a good idea, until the microwave blew up and the lights went out.
Now Chloe Burke thinks upgrading
the electrical system of her childhood home while they are away would make the perfect Christmas gift. Fortunately, there’s an electrician in town who can get the job done by the holidays.
Scott Quinn has wanted to get his hands on the Burkes’ wiring for almost as long as he’s wanted to get his hands on their daughter. Chloe didn’t notice Scott back in high school, but she’s noticing him now, and soon they’re indulging in a little festive fun: no strings, no expectations. After all, Chloe plans to get out of this goldfish bowl of a town and back to her real life in Boston by New Year’s.
But Chloe and Scott discover they enjoy each other’s company just as much out of bed. Could their holiday fling turn out to be the real thing?
Mistletoe and Margaritas
Claire Rutledge still believes in love, despite losing her husband. So, after two years, she’s not surprised by the steamy dreams telling her it might be time to start moving on. But she didn’t expect her friend Justin to have the starring role.
Justin McCormick has loved Claire since the moment he first saw her, but his best friend got there first. Now that Claire is ready to move on with her life, Justin is finding it harder than ever to hide his true feelings. And when they both get caught up in the holiday spirits at a party, their simmering mutual attraction boils over into a night neither of them can forget...
Snowbound with the CEO
Adrian Blackstone built a million-dollar business with hard work and determination—and by remaining professional at all times. Denying his longtime attraction to his beautiful executive assistant hasn’t been easy but it’s necessary. She’s indispensable, and he can’t stand the thought of losing her if things didn’t work out.
For more than a year, Rachel Carter has been quietly dreaming of all the ways she’ll never seduce her sexy, buttoned-up boss. She’s worked too hard to get where she is to cross that line, no matter how badly she’d like to act on her fantasies. But then a wicked snowstorm leaves them stranded in a romantic winter wonderland...
What begins as a single kiss and a few bad Santa jokes turns into a weekend full of breathless passion and hopes for something more. But with Monday comes a return to their complicated reality—and Adrian must prove that promises made are promises kept, especially at Christmastime.
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ISBN-13: 9781426898969
Her Holiday Man
Copyright © 2014 by Shannon Stacey
Edited by Angela James
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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