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watched Bailey start her old Toyota and drive away before turning her attention back to Carter.
    He raised that eyebrow again. Curse it.
    Smoothing her hands over her sweats and telling her woman bits to calm the heck down already, Liz motioned for him to follow. Despite going through the charade for appearance’s sake, she had no intention of hiring him—even if he was her great-aunt’s best friend’s grandson.
    After all, when you’ve spent the better part of your youth harboring a one-sided crush on the high school bad boy, you don’t generally want him to see you single, unkempt, and scraping your parents’ trim boards ten years later.
    Unless you were single. Which she most definitely was not.
    “Patio,” she said succinctly as she pointed around the back corner of the house.
    “Patio?”
    “My parents want a patio instead of the deck. It’s old and in disrepair and needs replacing.”
    “So you want a similar footprint?” He leaned against the back split-rail fence, afternoon sunlight accenting the dark highlights in his hair.
    “I guess.” Liz was only half-listening. The other half of her brain was wondering if his hair was as silky as it appeared. Her woman bits perked up at the word silky.
    “Should I include cost of demolition and disposal for the deck?”
    “I suppose. I mean, how much will that run? On second thought—no. I’m here. I’ll take care of it.” She licked suddenly dry lips, her fingers flexing at her side, wondering why they were bothering to discuss a job she had no intention of giving him. Except she hadn’t told him that. Yet. She made a mental note to add ‘deck demolition’ to her to-do list.
    “I’ll quote it just in case. So what are we using? Concrete pavers? Bluestone? Was there a particular look or color you’ve seen that you like?”
    “Ah, no. Just, you know, a patio. Whatever’s cheapest and quickest. My parents didn’t say.”
    He paused, his pencil poised over a grungy notepad he’d finally found in his chest pocket, and Liz fought not to squirm under his gaze. His eyes were a deep green, like an old Coca-Cola bottle. But rather than wholesome familiarity, the color gave an air of reckless changeability to his expression.
    That and his lips. He had firm, beautiful lips. Kissable lips , she thought. How often had she daydreamed about this man’s lips? But who wouldn’t? He could smile broadly, the quintessential class clown; tilt them cockily, the smug rebel; or spin some sort of magic spell that transformed his face such than no woman—young or old—could resist his dazzling charm.
    “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    The lips moved, and it took Liz a moment to realize words had passed over them. Her eyes slid up to his. “Uh, sure,” she said, wishing she could stop thinking about this man’s lips long enough to gracefully send him on his way. Oh Lord, had she just said uh ?
    “Are you free for dinner?”
    “Dinner?”
    “Yeah, you know, where they serve food. I’m starved, and I’m thinking if I give you a few minutes you’ll know what you want me to quote out here, and I won’t pass out from hunger.”
    “Oh. I don’t think dinner’s a good idea. I’m not staying. In Sugar Falls, that is. This is just a vacation. Sort of.”
    Plus I have an almost-fiancé, she wanted to add, realizing she was starting to babble for some unknown reason, perhaps because The Lips were now softly curving in a manner that could only be described as sinfully sensual. Although why she was thinking about ‘sin’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence at that particular moment was something she didn’t intend to think about.
    One dark brow shot to the sky. “You don’t plan on eating while you’re here? You’ll get even skinnier than you are now.”
    Did he just call me skinny? the unhelpful part of her brain squeaked delightedly. “Of course I plan to eat,” she scoffed. “Besides, I’m a mess. I’d need to clean up. Change...”
    “No problem.