than the pastries. He’d done as she’d instructed and worn old clothes. A ragged black T-shirt with stains all over it and an old pair of worn jeans. If he were anyone else, he would’ve passed for a vagrant. But Jason still managed to look dead sexy.
When she glanced over at him now, busy painting the back wall, Emma pictured how delicious Jason had looked as he’d sat across from her, all but devouring the powder-sugared treat.
Now, as she perched atop the hard, wooden stool behind the counter and attempted to at least pretend to go through the mail, Jason steadily worked away. Her gaze kept straying to the way his arms flexed as he rolled the paint up and down the wall with steady, even strokes. She started to get a little overheated and decided a break was in order. “Do you want something to drink?”
He smiled over at her. “Nope, I’m good.”
I’ll just bet you are. Emma fled the room. She needed ice water and lots of it.
Jason watched Emma leave the room. He swiped a bead of sweat off his brow. Christ, he had to keep it together. The last thing Emma needed was him coming at her like some hormonal teenager. Several minutes passed before Emma reentered the room. Jason moved on to a second wall. He would’ve had them both done well before now if he’d been keeping his mind on his task. Emma was infinitely more fascinating to watch, though. God, he’d give anything to have the right to cross the room and take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. At that moment, Emma glanced up from her work. Their gazes clashed and held. Her lips parted and her nipples peaked beneath the red blouse she wore. Hell, a man didn’t have to be a mind reader to know if a woman was ready and aching. When it came down to it, if it weren’t for the fact that he was half turned away, Emma would’ve seen just how much her presence affected him. Looking at her was a delight, but it was pure hell not to be able to touch.
Time to take his mind off what lay just beyond his reach.
“So, tell me more about yourself, Emma. What made you want to own your own shop?” There, that was surely safe territory. Besides, he really did want to know more about her. She fascinated him.
“I never imagined running my own business, but once the idea struck, it just felt right.” Emma smiled. “I love the customers, and I enjoy selling things that make people happy. Is that silly?”
“Not at all. It’s sort of the reason we opened Man-Maid. We wanted to be our own bosses, and we were tired of working the usual, boring nine-to-five.” Emma smiled, and it reached clear to her eyes. She was so damn pretty when she did that. Her come-hither eyes and voluptuous figure sent him into a spin, and he nearly dropped the roller.
“I understand that. After Damian and I split, I was ready for a change.” She laughed. “It was either this or I was going to turn into a hermit with a dozen cats.”
Damian sounded like a real ass, but he was glad she’d turned her attention to making her life her own. And the excitement in her voice when she talked about her shop was easy enough to catch. She obviously loved what she did, and since she enjoyed it so much, she could hardly fail. Her intelligence and drive were a recipe for success, that much was certain.
Funny, Jason enjoyed talking to Emma about her life. At first, he’d been so damn preoccupied with getting a date with her that he hadn’t considered anything else. Now, he could see just how wrapped up in lust he’d been.
As he continued painting, attempting to keep his focus on the wall and not on the woman across the room, he asked, “What does your family think of your shop?”
Emma was quiet long enough that Jason turned to look at her. She seemed preoccupied with the pile of papers in front of her, but he could see he’d hit a nerve all the same. “You okay?”
“Oh yes,” she replied. “It’s just that I don’t really have much in the way of family.”
She didn’t elaborate,