Belly, but that didn’t mean anything. Dad hooked up with women all the time when he was married to Mom. Men can be so vile. But Smokey and that unpleasant woman? I’m surprised, but who cares? His personal life isn’t any of my business. True enough, but then why was she miffed about what the receptionist had said to her?
“I shouldn’t give a crap who Smokey dates.” She gripped the steering wheel, irked to no end that a part of her did give a damn. And what made it worse was that she didn’t know why it mattered. Ashley had worked with a lot of men over the years, and none of them had taken root in her brain the way Mr. Arrogant-and-Sexy had. Maybe it was because it’d been a while since she’d been with a man. For the past year, Ashley had thrown herself into her career by making a conscious choice to put men and all the BS that came with them on the back burner for a shot at the brass ring. Yes, it was hard, but becoming partner would make all the loneliness worthwhile.
The loud ring of her phone interrupted her thoughts. Expecting it to be the handyman, Smokey’s deep voice rumbling in her ear surprised Ashley just as much as the fluttering in her stomach threw her for a loop.
“Can you hear me?” he asked.
“Yes, how are you?” she answered.
“Good. How’re things going with you at the office?”
For a split second, Ashley wondered if Sabrina had told him that’d she’d spilled the beans to her about their relationship.
“Fine … Why?”
A hearty laugh filled her ears. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“I guess not.” She turned down the street to the firm’s house. Maybe Sabrina told him I took off. “I’m headed to the house where I’m staying to meet up with a handyman.”
“Oh yeah? What seems to be the problem?”
A small laugh escaped her lips. “Where do I start?”
“That bad? Who’s the dude you’re meeting?”
“Mark Ames. Do you know him?”
“Ames …” his voice trailed off.
Ashley saw a white pickup truck in front of the house.
“It’s strange, but I don’t know the name. How’d you find him?”
“I didn’t—Zach did,” she replied as she pulled behind the truck. A tall man wearing a black and gray puffer jacket got out of the pickup. “I have to go. Was there something you needed to tell me?”
“No, just checking to make sure you’re doing okay. I’ll see you at six.”
“Okay, bye.” A smile whispered across her lips as she slipped the phone into her purse. So Mr. Sexy is capable of being nice. A hot shiver ran down her spine and landed low in her belly. Pressing her lips together, she ignored it and opened the car door.
“Ashley Callahan?” the man said as he approached her.
Nodding, she wrapped the scarf tighter around her neck. “And you’re Mr. Ames?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll show you what needs to be fixed.” Little puffs of vapor formed in the air as she spoke.
He tipped his head and followed her toward the house.
For the next forty minutes, Mark Ames measured, scribbled things down into a yellow notebook, and inspected each room while Ashley leaned against the kitchen counter watching him. There was something about him that was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He didn’t talk much, and every so often, she caught him staring at her when he didn’t think she was looking.
“I’ll fix the garage door now,” he said, the harsh bark of his voice making her jump.
“Did Zach okay that?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head no.
“Then …?” she said weakly.
“The snow’s coming down hard. I’ll just go out to my truck and get the tools to fix that door.”
Rooted to the spot, Ashley nodded and watched as he walked through the kitchen to the back door. Thirty minutes later, Mark Ames strode into the family room, folded his arms across his chest, and stared at her.
Combing her fingers through her hair, Ashley glanced quickly at him and then looked away, her eyes scanning the room. The ticking of the clock above the mantle was barely audible over the beating of her heart, and as her gaze landed on a spot on the carpet, the handyman took two steps toward her.
Exhaling a breath she’d been holding, she lifted her chin up and locked eyes with him. “Are you finished?” she asked.