to her feet and padded to the bathroom. She washed up, then fixed an afternoon tea of petite lemon meringue pies she’d baked that morning, tea, and coffee. She set it out in the dining room, then returned to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. She stared at the steaming mug for a few moments, reached for another and poured Ethan one as well. With a shake of her head, she carried it along with a plate of pies up to the second floor where she could hear him hammering in the walk-in wardrobe he was installing.
She set the tray on a chair that’d been covered with a drop cloth, then knocked on the door frame leading into the wardrobe. He stopped hammering and glanced over his shoulder, smiled. “Hi, Emily, how’s it going?”
He wore a pair of jeans and work boots. His bare chest gleamed with sweat. Muscles flexed and she swallowed hard before answering.
“So far so good. I sanded the entire skirting and wainscoting in the room downstairs.”
He set down the hammer and faced her. “Great. Now it needs a coat of paint and you’ll be done.”
“This is looking good,” she said, rubbing a hand over the timber frame of a shoe rack, heat travelling across her neck and face.
He shrugged. “I think it’ll improve the room. There was plenty of space for it, and even room to add an ensuite.”
“Thanks for working so hard on it.” Her cheeks blazed. The words were easier to say than she’d thought they’d be.
His brow furrowed in surprise. “Uh… yeah, you’re welcome. Of course, I’m loving it actually. It’s good to get away from the computer for a while. I hate having to stare at a screen all day every day. I didn’t realise how much of that I’d be doing when I became an engineer… I love working with my hands as well.”
“And you look good doing it.” She’d meant it as a joke, something to lighten the moment, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to clamp her hand over it. What was she thinking? They were professionals, colleagues. She had no desire to complicate their relationship. Besides, he thought she hated him, and he was going to end up thinking she wasn’t in control of her faculties if she kept it up.
“Thanks,” he said with a grin, his eyes flashing. “So, what’s that smell — something smells good?”
She rubbed her sweating palms down her jeans. “Yeah, I brought you some afternoon tea. Thought it might be time for smoko.”
“Perfect, I’m starving,” he said. He strode out of the wardrobe and found the pies. “This looks amazing. Seriously, I’m going to gain ten kilograms if you keep cooking for me. I’ll have to start running ten kilometres instead of five each morning.”
“You run five kilometres every morning?” she asked.
He nodded as he took a bite of the dessert. “Yeah, wow this is so good. Thanks.”
She hardly ever ran anywhere. She wasn’t really the running type. If she exercised, she preferred a gentle bike ride or a slow lap in the pool. Lately she hadn’t done much of anything, spending most of her time working at the Manor.
She sat on the end of the drop-cloth draped bed and crossed her legs. “You think it’ll make a difference — all this work we’re doing?”
He chewed and swallowed. “Definitely. It’s going to look great.”
“Are you planning on staying in the Cove long term?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I guess not. I mean, I’d love to, but I have to get a job sometime. Unless, of course, this place suddenly becomes super profitable.” He sighed. “But I’ll have to get back into engineering sometime… if I even can.” He shook his head. “My old company has… a few issues that seem to be following me. Not sure anyone will hire me again, but I’ll wait a few months and give it a try.”
He seemed upset. She didn’t want to pry but wondered what kind of issues he was talking about.
She stood, collected the empty plate. “Well, let me know I guess.”
He stepped closer, reached for another pie. His arm brushed against hers, and his body was so close she could feel the heat emanating from him. A thrill ran through her and she clutched the plate harder to keep it from crashing to the ground.
“Uh… so… keep up the good work,” she said.
He arched an eyebrow. “Thanks, I will.”
“I mean… I don’t mean it as though I’m