The Haneys: What You Do To Me Part 15

"Are you sure?" She sat back down. "We're still on the clock."

"I'm sure. That's why I asked for the short version." He leaned back in his leather chair. "Start talking."

As concisely as possible, she outlined her mother's dastardly plan and everything that had happened since. "So, that's why he wants to prove to me that I have him all wrong," she said.

"Huh," Brent said, nodding. "Well, it's obvious."

"It is?" She frowned.

"Think about it, Haley. If he didn't have feelings for you, if he didn't care, he wouldn't feel the need to prove anything, and he certainly wouldn't have stopped at kissing." He chuckled. "Poor drooler. Probably doesn't even realize what's happening."

"What's happening?"

"The man who swore he doesn't do relationships is falling into one. With you."

She gasped. "You think?"

"I know. Been there. Wrote the book." He tsked and shook his head. "And what about your mother? How does she feel about the fact that you're dating the one-night stud she set you up with?"

"She doesn't know. I haven't said a word. My personal life is none of Trudy's business."

Brent leaned back and laughed. "Oh, I so want to be there when she finds out."

"You promised you wouldn't laugh," she grumbled.

"Sorry. Can't help it. Ahhh," he sighed, swiping at his eyes. "Haven't laughed this hard in a while. If this were a reality TV show, I'd be your biggest fan."

"Thanks." Haley rose again, glancing at the fancy clock on his wall. "You've been a great help," she clipped out.

"Haley, do you care about this guy, or is it just l.u.s.t?"

"I care." There was that stomach flip thing again. "But-"

"No buts. Here's the thing. He cares too, and I'm sure it's freaking him out. Be patient. Any guy willing to work this hard to prove himself is a man worth the risk. Give it time."

"Yeah, maybe, but given his past and what I know about him, things could go either way. He could bolt." Like Michael. And where would that leave her? With a few more home repair skills and her heart in shambles for the second time in less than a year.

"There's always that possibility. Unfortunately, there are no guarantees for any of us, no matter what the circ.u.mstances. Taking emotional risks is not for the faint of heart."

She headed for the door. "That's for sure. Thanks, Brent. You've given me lots to think about. I'd better get going." Was Brent right? Did Sam have feelings for her, other than the obvious l.u.s.tful kind? She ticked off the evidence, along with the pros and cons of continuing down the path she was on with him.

Bottom line, Sam had issues, but she wanted him anyway. Now, how could she go about getting him past the point where he pushed her out of his arms? "d.a.m.n, I'm about to throw myself at the handyman," she mumbled. Hadn't she sworn not to be one of those women? Shaking her head at her own idiocy, she gathered her things and headed home.

Chapter Twelve.

Sam drove into the parking lot at Haney & Sons and pulled in next to Josey's truck. "I'm going to go inside and make a sandwich before I head to Haley's. See you tomorrow, Jo."

"Yep. See you." His sister hopped out of the van and climbed into her car, taking off in a big hurry.

Was she going out with someone tonight? He still hadn't gotten over the surprise of hearing she dated. How could he not have known? Well, if a husband and family were what she wanted, he hoped she'd find someone really special. He stomped his boots on the step and walked inside, thermal mug in hand. His grandfather stood by the sink, rinsing out a mug. The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee. "Working late, Grandpa Joe?"

"Oh, not too late. I have a few bids to go through, and then I'll head home." He moved to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. "How's being back on construction working out for you, Sam?"

"It's fine. The job we're working on will be finished on schedule." Sam yawned and poured coffee into his thermal mug. He hadn't been sleeping well lately.

Grandpa Joe leaned a hip against the counter. "Dan says he ran into one of our clients at your hockey game last Wednesday night. Was she there with you?"

He nodded, his heart thumping. "Haley Cooper, and it was a practice scrimmage, not a game."

"I see. Wyatt says she's a real nice gal, a paralegal. He told me you and this client joined him and Josey for dinner after the hockey scrimmage." Grandpa Joe fixed Sam in his sights and took a sip of his coffee. "Is that right?"

When had all this talking about him gone on? He nodded again. "She is nice, Grandpa. Really nice." And s.e.xy, beautiful, smart-he was in too deep and didn't know how to get out-or even if he wanted to get out. Wait. Was Grandpa Joe about to lecture him about some rule against dating clients? s.h.i.t, what if Gramps asked if he and Haley were having s.e.x, or he brought up his pre-radio-show activities again? The last thing he wanted was to talk about s.e.x with his grandfather.

What else had Wyatt shared? Sam couldn't remember whether or not he'd mentioned snowmobiling to his brother, but hiding things from his grandfather had never worked. Play it cool, like it's no big deal. "Haley and I also went snowmobiling on Sunday." His heart hadn't gotten the memo about playing it cool. The thing hammered against his ribs with punishing force.

"Ah, I see." Grandpa Joe's bushy eyebrows lowered. "You're not quite done with her remodel yet, are you?"

"No, not quite, but almost. I'm putting in a tile backsplash in her kitchen tonight, and then all there is left is painting the kitchen and cleanup. I'm taking care of both the Monday after Christmas."

"Is she the reason you wanted to move to construction?" Grandpa Joe's bushy eyebrows lowered even further. "Are you serious about this girl?"

"Serious?" He cleared his throat, embarra.s.sed by the way his voice squeaked. "We've been out twice. No, she's not the reason I switched to construction, and no, it's not serious." He screwed on the top of his thermal mug so tight he might never get it off again. "I'd better get going."

"Well," Grandpa Joe said, straightening away from the counter, "I know I don't have to remind you to be careful. She's a client until after the final walk-through on the job has been completed." He reached over and patted Sam's cheek. "Serious or not, it's good to hear you're dating a nice girl. Your grandmother and I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know, Gramps." Happy? He had been happy. His life had been simple, uncomplicated and completely unenc.u.mbered-exactly how he'd wanted it to be. And then Haley Cooper happened. Now he was mostly obsessed, missing sleep and finding it difficult to breathe-or eat. Sam averted his gaze and rolled his eyes. Happy? Not hardly. "See you tomorrow, Grandpa."

"Yep. Bright and early." Grandpa Joe started down the hall toward his office.

Speaking of eating, he probably should make that sandwich, since he'd be working. Sam scrounged through the fridge and slapped a ham-and-cheese sandwich together before heading to his van. On the drive to Haley's, he thought about what his grandfather had said. It was the subtext that mattered. Grandpa Joe had warned him and given him his blessing all in one short conversation. Cagey old coot.

The drive to Haley's house took about fifteen minutes when there wasn't any traffic, but the closer it got to Christmas, the thicker the traffic, and the longer rush hour lasted. Inching his way to her neighborhood, one of the nicer areas in Saint Paul, he downed his meal. He parked his van behind the dumpster and shut off the engine. One part of him wanted to run to her door, scoop her up and kiss her breathless all the way to her bedroom. The terrified part of him wanted to walk on eggsh.e.l.ls around her, keep his distance and lock his heart in a vault.

Why did you stop Thursday night? A blatant invitation if ever he'd heard one, and he'd heard a few. He glanced at her house. "She's a client until after the last walk-through," he repeated the warning part of his grandfather's little talk. That bought him some time to figure things out, keep Haley an arm's length away. "I can do this." He climbed out and unloaded what he needed from the back of his van.

Haley waited for him at her front door, her smile causing its usual internal stir. The impact of all that warmth and adorableness staggered him every time. "Evening, Ms. Cooper."

She held the door open wide for him. "Good evening, Mr. Haney. I cooked my dinner in the new kitchen tonight," she said, her eyes sparkling. "It's wonderful."

Pride swelled his chest and he smiled back. "Good. Are you ready to install the backsplash?"

She took a rubber band from her pocket and lifted her arms to put her hair up in a ponytail. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s lifted in the process, drawing his attention. Where was the old sweatshirt she usually wore when they worked? Tonight she had on a red, long-sleeve T-shirt that accentuated every alluring feminine curve.

She stepped closer, b.r.e.a.s.t.s still thrusting, and glanced at him through her lashes. Blood rushed to his groin. What the h.e.l.l is she up to?

"I am ready," she said, her smile a tad too enticing for the question at hand. "I took half the day off, and I've already taped off and covered the counters, removed the outlet covers and measured each area with a mark at the center point like you showed me." She reached out and touched his arm. "I also marked the one-eighth-inch expansion s.p.a.ce at the top and bottom."

He chuckled and followed her to the kitchen. "You're hired."

She turned to beam at him over her shoulder. Was she wearing more makeup than usual tonight? Uh-oh. His pulse surged, and heat crept up his neck. "The backsplash mortar will have to dry for twenty-four hours before we can do anything else. We'll take care of the grout and the sealer the same day we paint." He scanned the room, careful to keep his eyes off Haley. He and his brother had already prepped the walls, so they were ready to go.

Sam filled a bucket with the mortar and water and crouched down to stir the mixture to the consistency of peanut b.u.t.ter. With Haley hovering next to him, brushing her hip against his shoulder, concentrating turned into a monumental effort. She was wearing perfume tonight, because, yeah, that was a new smell wafting over him. Enticing, but he preferred her natural scent, just her and the shampoo she used with a dash of laundry detergent or dryer sheets. He'd make a mint if he could bottle the way Haley smelled.

Trying his best to ignore the signals she was sending, he pondered the obvious changes in her att.i.tude. Michael had responded to her e-mail. Her confidence had been shaken, and she'd been hurt. Did she look to him to be her rebound guy? No thanks. Rebound guy was the last thing he wanted to be to her. Frowning, he blew out a breath and went to work, troweling mortar onto the wall and setting the meshed sheets of tile.

A few hours later, he stood back to admire the job, Haley beside him. The tiles she'd chosen had flashes of turquoise, umber, black and gold, which looked great with the counters, and would go nicely with the paint she'd chosen. "What do you think?" he asked, glancing sideways at her.

"I think it's amazing." Sighing happily, she moved around the room, studying each section of the small colorful tiles. "My kitchen and bathroom are perfect, way better than I imagined." She turned to face him. "You know what? I'm having a New Year's Day open house to show off my new updates. I think you should come. It will be very casual, my family and a few friends. I think everyone would love to meet the man responsible for this," she said, gesturing around the room. "Plus, there will be tons of food."

Adrenaline rushed through his veins. Her family . . . Did he want to come face-to-face with the woman who had wanted to use him to fix her daughter? "Hmm, I don't know, Haley. Your mom-"

"You aren't the man my mother a.s.sumed you were, Sam. You've proven that over and over. I want her to see how wrong she was about you, and maybe she'll get how inappropriate it was for her to set us up the way she did."

"You want to rub her nose in it." He snorted.

"Don't you?" she asked.

"Eh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I get that you want to end her meddling. You said as much, but I don't know that I want to be the means to accomplish that particular end."

"I don't want you to be the means to that end either," she said, her tone earnest. "I was thinking more in terms of we. We were both set up, Sam. I want Trudy to see how much I like and respect you. What she did was wrong, but look at the good that came from it. We triumphed over her insanity."

But they hadn't risen above or triumphed. Trudy had wanted him to make a pa.s.s at Haley. Every time they got together, things between them moved a little closer to the bedroom. "You respect and like me?" He raised his brow, feigning surprise.

"You know I do."

Her shy smile at the admission, a few blotches blooming on her cheeks, and he melted. "All right. I'll come to your open house." Even though he had doubts-serious misgivings, actually-he couldn't refuse her.

"Thank you, Sam. Extend the invitation to Wyatt and Josey. I'd love to have them join us. They're both part of this remodel."

"I will." He'd managed to keep his hands to himself all evening, but s.e.xual tension flared again as Haley helped him take off the plastic sheets covering her counters. She brushed up against him, made sure their hands touched and gave him all the green-light signals. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and the air grew thick and hot. Gulp. She's a client until after the last walk-through. "I'm going to go put this stuff in the trash. I'll be right back for the rest."

He hauled the bucket of leftover mortar and debris to the dumpster. The frigid night air did little to cool his l.u.s.t. It would be all right to kiss Haley good night, wouldn't it? So long as he didn't take it any further. They'd kissed before. Nothing new there. On the way back to her door, he gave himself permission for one good-night kiss. He drew a long breath before walking inside.

Haley was humming along to the radio, some popular station. Grinning, he followed the sound to the kitchen. At least she could carry a tune, even if he didn't care much for her choice of music. She was busy arranging things on her counter, a toaster, her coffeepot and a few ceramic containers holding cooking utensils. "Hey," he said. "It's going to be a while before we see each other again."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "I guess so."

"I hope you have a great Christmas, Haley," he said.

"I hope you do too, Sam." Her expression softened, and her eyes filled with warmth.

"Would you like to go snowmobiling on Sunday? We can head to St. Croix Park this time."

"I'd like that. Remember, you said you'd teach me how to drive your snowmobile."

"Like you'd let me forget." He moved closer and put his hands on her waist. "Where's the mistletoe when you need it?" She gave a husky laugh that slid down his spine in an erotic shiver.

"Since when do you need mistletoe?" She laid her hands on his chest.

"Good point. I don't." He drew her close and kissed her. His body responded in record time. On the she-turns-me-on scale of one to ten, Haley easily scored a twenty. What was it about this woman? She rendered him hard, breathless and aching in under ten seconds. He slid his tongue into her mouth. So sweet. Everything about her was sweet, from the way she felt in his arms to her innate goodness. He deepened the kiss, cradling her face and slanting her head for better access. He burned for her.

Haley pressed herself close and tugged at the tee under his flannel shirt. Her hands slid up his bare back, and he backed her up against the counter, thrusting his hips against her. His grandfather's warning echoed in his head. Groaning, he reached around and gripped her wrists, bringing them around to press her palms against his pounding heart. He broke the kiss and struggled to bring himself under control. "Haley . . ."

Her eyes were hazed with pa.s.sion. He'd put that s.e.xy look on her face, and that humbled him, turned him on even more. She opened her mouth to speak, and he feared she might ask him to stay. He knew full well he wouldn't be able to refuse her. "I'd better get going. I have a long day tomorrow."

The pa.s.sion in her expression turned to confusion and hurt. "All right."

She tried to step out of his arms, but he pulled her close again. "I'm looking forward to spending Sunday with you." He kissed her once more. She deserved an explanation, but he didn't want to hand her an excuse. Truth was, he had no idea what to say. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone, and the powerful feelings roiling through him scared him half to death.

He couldn't say with any certainty what role he wanted to play in her life. The only thing he was sure of was that he couldn't hand her a lame excuse, like "Grandpa Joe reminded me you're still a client, which was a veiled reminder to behave myself." He ran his knuckles down her cheek. "We'll grab lunch or a late breakfast on the way."

She nodded, and he let her go. "If it's any consolation," he said, his voice gruff, "I'm just as confused and turned on as you are."

"Is that why you keep stopping what you start?" Her chin came up, a spark of irritation lighting her eyes. "You're confused?"

"That about sums it up. Would you rather I didn't kiss you? Because, I don't know if that's possible. I'm trying to do the right thing here. I'm trying to be a better man."

"I see." She averted her gaze. "Well, I am still a client, and I'm sure you've taken lots of flak about-"

"You have no idea, but it's not about that. It's about who I am, and how I want you to see me."

"Oh, Sam," she said, turning back to face him. "I see you."

"Do you?" He searched her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of some sense of himself reflected back in her steady gaze. "I never was that guy on the radio show, Haley. Things just kind of spiraled out of control." He swallowed hard. "And, yeah, I went with the flow."

"But that's over now," she said. "Right?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Well, I really do have to go. I'll see you on Sunday around ten. Will that work?"

Haley went up on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "That'll work. I'll be ready."

Sam grabbed the rest of his stuff and left. I see you. He'd pay good money to hear what was going on inside her head right now. d.a.m.n, but leaving her was becoming increasingly difficult the more time he spent with her. How had that happened, and what did he intend to do about it?

Maybe the way she affected him was strictly testosterone driven. After all, he hadn't been with a woman since Loaded Question had aired. If he slept with Haley, would he be free from this hold she had on him? He snorted. "Doubt it." Besides, he couldn't sleep with her for the sole purpose of breaking the spell she'd put him under. She wasn't that kind of woman. His breath hitched. What if he couldn't get Haley out of his system? Then what?

Haley popped into Kathy and Felicia's office on the way to hers. "Hey, are you two free on New Year's Day?"

"Sure." Kathy looked up from her keyboard.

"I am," Felicia said. "Why, what's up?"

"I'm having an open house to show off my new kitchen and bathroom." She handed them each an invitation. "From five until whenever for you two, even though the invitation says 'til ten. Bring something to share. I'm providing the beer and wine and some other goodies."