eyes, she knew that renovations were not the only other things his hands would be good for.
How she could make him so aroused without saying a word, he didn’t know. But he damn well knew he wasn’t about to give Hayley’s mom another reason to disapprove of him.
“You need help,” he repeated. Staying on topic was good. And it meant he wouldn’t be thinking about showing Hayley every dirty trick he could do with his hands.
Hayley shrugged. “Maybe I do, but not at the cost of pretending I’m your new plaything.”
“You honestly think that’s what people think?”
She leaned forward. “You’ve had almost as many girlfriends as you’ve had goals, and the only serious—” She broke off.
“Finish what you were going to say.”
“Okay. The only serious relationship you had, you ended the second things got tough.”
“The second I had my accident, you mean?”
She nodded, at least sparing him from the usual pitying look he received any time his career-ending accident came up in conversation. He usually went out of his way to make sure it didn’t.
“She ended it,” he corrected, steering the conversation back to Hayley. “Look, you need the help. Are you going to let what people might think about us get in the way of that?”
“I’ve been managing so far.”
“And you can only run on fumes for so long.”
“I’m doing fine,” she insisted.
“Have you looked at your eyes this morning? I’ve seen goalie pads smaller than the bags you’ve got going on there.” And even her exhaustion did nothing to take away from how attractive she looked with her hair pulled back and her eyes going stormy on him.
“God, you’re sweet,” she mocked, rubbing self-consciously at her face.
“You’re going to burn out, and then who will work your cases and renovate the house and coach those hockey kids?”
Arms crossed, she searched his face. “What’s in it for you?”
“I stay busy and keep a low profile at the same time. And if everyone thinks we’re involved, no women will randomly jog by to see how hot I look with my tool belt on.”
She snorted, her lips curving in the barest hint of a smile. “You have a tool belt?”
“Don’t all renovation experts?”
“Now you’re an expert?”
“At many things, but you’ve been pretty clear about not exploring those other areas.” He rested his elbows on the table. “So, do we have a deal?”
Chapter Seven
Hayley crossed her arms, her expression too guarded for Jackson to decipher. He figured he had at least a fifty-fifty shot of her not throwing the drink on the table in his face.
She rubbed at her eyes again. “Fine.”
“Should we seal it with a kiss?”
“I think we’ve given everyone enough of a performance for one day.”
Lifting one shoulder, Jackson held out a hand, smiling when Hayley grudgingly shook it.
A few minutes later Mrs. Stone delivered his sandwich herself, with Hayley’s food following a few seconds later. Once the other waitress hustled off to another table, Mrs. Stone grabbed a bottle of ketchup for Hayley’s fries, then turned to Jackson. “I just heard that you’re helping Hayley with the renovations at Mitch’s place. That’s very wonderful of you.”
Hayley paused, fry halfway to her mouth. “Who did you hear that from?”
Jackson had never believed much got by Mrs. Stone—Hayley’s teenage antics certainly hadn’t—but even she couldn’t have overhead their conversation.
“Cody and Kyle’s mother was just in to pick up lunch and she mentioned it. Jackson told the boys when they went looking for you this morning.”
“Did he now?” Hayley’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
“I’m glad you’ve at least realized you can’t do everything yourself.”
Jackson winced inwardly at the comment, wondering if Hayley would let it slide. Not a chance, he decided when she sat a little straighter in the booth.
“Weird that I haven’t heard you say that to Matt, who’s running one business and trying to start another.”
Mrs. Stone dropped a quick kiss on her daughter’s head. “I’m going to be late for a meeting if I don’t get a move on. You two enjoy lunch.” She paused to chat with an elderly woman on her way out, and Jackson knew his reprieve was over.
“You—”
He held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“We have a deal,” he reminded her, taking a large bite of his sandwich.
“You would have been over to help renovate anyway, after telling those kids that.” She pushed her plate aside, mulling that over. “You used the renovations to avoid them, didn’t you? If Cody was there, then so was Brent.”
Ah, the