Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,80

She placed her stuff on the counter and stood beside him. ‘Thanks for the cake, by the way.’

‘I was experimenting and Mum said you loved vanilla so I thought you might like to be a guinea pig.’ He grinned. ‘I tried to come up with a better message but “I decorate cakes, you decorate rooms” seemed fitting.’

‘Yeah, poetry isn’t your strong suit, so keep your day job.’

He laughed and leaned against the shelf behind the counter, making his biceps bulge nicely. ‘If you decorate as well as I bake, this place will be spectacular.’

‘Confident, much?’

‘I know when I’m good at things,’ he said, his gaze challenging her, daring her to imagine all sorts of scenarios where he’d be better than good.

Damn it. Time to get back on track.

‘Now that you’ve approved the budget, I’ll get onto the tradesmen who specialise in the fancy cornices we want. Some may be between jobs, others may be working, so I might have to outsource to Echuca and that may involve higher costs. Are you okay with that?’

‘Absolutely. I want this place up and running ASAP.’

Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to get out of town sooner rather than later. Considering the cosmopolitan lifestyle he must lead in Paris, she didn’t blame him. She shouldn’t care but a small part of her did, the part that had developed a wee crush on the sexy pastry chef.

‘Any particular reason?’ She tried to sound blasé but, going by his knowing smirk, had failed miserably.

‘Go on, admit it. You’ll miss me when I leave.’

Her brain latched onto one word: when. Of course he was leaving.

‘You’ve done nothing but misjudge me since you’ve come back to town, so yeah, I’m going to miss that a whole lot.’ She rolled her eyes and he laughed.

‘Butting heads can be fun,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Nothing like a bit of strenuous discussion as foreplay.’

She stilled. He was thinking about sex? With her? As tempted as she was to clamber all over him, she knew sleeping with him before the job was done would be misconstrued. People in this town would say she’d slept her way to the decorating job. They’d say she’d reverted to type. And they’d make sure her mother heard about it. That’s the last thing Jane wanted, to give Gladys any ammunition to say, ‘I was right.’

So she ignored his innuendo when every cell in her body wanted to spar with him a little longer.

‘Want to see the final plans?’

He hesitated and she silently willed him not to push her; there was only so much willpower a girl had to hold out against his charms. When he gave a little shake of his head, as if telling himself to snap out of it, she breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Sure.’ He patted the counter in front of him so she slid the portfolio and laptop out and opened her presentation.

For the next fifteen minutes he scrutinised and questioned and argued a few points but she held her own and by the end they’d agreed on everything. This would be a good job for her and would go a long way to highlighting her skills. Her website needed a revamp so updating it with this job front and centre would be excellent promotion. Though what sold anything in this town was word of mouth and once happy patrons flocked to the new patisserie, she had little doubt her own interior design dreams would flourish. With a little luck, more people would trust her to decorate their places and she could start up a business. She was tired of not working. Donating anonymously to charities hadn’t won her any favour with the locals, and while she’d given money without expecting kudos, she now wanted to be recognised in this town rather than ridiculed.

After she wound down her presentation, Mason said, ‘Good job. Now that’s out of the way, I want to mention something to you, but I don’t want you thinking I’m prying, okay?’

‘Okay.’

He looked positively uncomfortable and she wondered what on earth he had to say.

‘While the deal went through the real estate agent, once I’d signed the papers I got a call from the owner.’

Jane’s heart sank. ‘My mother.’

He nodded. ‘She warned me against working with you.’

‘What did you say?’

‘That your work is flawless and I’m looking forward to seeing your talents showcased in the new patisserie.’

To her mortification, tears stung her eyes. She didn’t need anyone defending her, least of all some guy who probably thought