“Honey, beneath our masks of civility, all of us males are Teds.”

“You mean all men like buffets?”

“Of different types,” he said cryptically.

“What does that mean?”

“Not all of us get excited over food, but we’re all reduced to basic stupidity when it comes to our weaknesses. Ted’s weakness just happened to be food.”

“What’s yours?”

“Ah, that would be telling.”

With that, he walked away, leaving her to watch his long, long legs, the way his hammer slapped against his hip with each step.

He has the most amazing tush, she thought ridiculously, then had to laugh at herself. Seems men weren’t the only ones wearing masks of civility.

The phone rang again, and before Tanner could come back and step on her blanket, she grabbed it. “Hello?”

“You sound breathless,” said Dimi.

Breathless? She was. It hadn’t been Ted to do that to her, and it certainly hadn’t been a sexy dream, not with all that banging going on, so it must have been Tanner. Oh, boy. “Yeah, well.

I’m recovering. Oh, and gee, thanks for calling me back in a timely fashion.”

“I was busy. Working. You might not know that concept.”

“Hey, I work. I work hard.”

Dimi sighed. “Sorry. I know you work hard.

And I know you’re trying to get your business going. But mine is the pits at the moment. Literally. I just screwed up today’s show. Somehow left a pit in one of the peaches we canned, so my guest host swallowed it and choked.”

“On the air? Live?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Ouch.”

“That’s not the worst of it. When I gave her the Heimlich maneuver, she coughed up the pit and it beaned the camera man right between the eyes. Gave him a concussion.”

“Holy smokes.”

“I might get a ratings boost out of it, though. If people think someone might do it again, they’ll tune in.”

There was Dimi. Positive to the end.

“Now tell me about this date from hell you were muttering about on my answering machine.”

“It’s old news.”

“Good. So you’re still going out tonight with Mrs. Brown’s dateless son, right?”

“I’d rather have my impacted wisdom teeth removed, without drugs.”

“You can’t back out now. Bring laughing gas.”

“Funny.”

“Mom told me your contractor rescued you.”

“Tanner.” From her position on the floor, Cami lifted her head. She could see him down the hallway, kneeling before a large tool chest, rifling around. He had two nails in his mouth, a baseball cap on backward, a T-shirt that said Bite Me across the chest, and he was humming to Led Zeppelin on the radio.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught her staring at him. He sent her a slow wink and a smile that could only be classified as bad-to-the-bone wicked.

Her heart fluttered. “Damn,” she whispered.

“Is that damn, yes, he rescued you?” Dimi wanted to know.

“Yes,” Cami whispered, her gaze locked with Tanner’s.

“Oh, man, that’s a loaded yes. Are you doing your contractor, Cami? Cami?”

No, but suddenly she wanted to be. “I’ve got to go now.”

“Remember, date tonight. Date means income. A good thing.”

“I know.”

“Take your eyes off your contractor.”

She couldn’t.

“Cami. Right now. He’s not your type. Yes, he’s a smartass like you, he’s darkly gorgeous, which I know is tempting, not to mention he’s right there beneath your nose, but listen to me.

He’s not your type.”

“How do you know?”

“Let’s just say I think he needs a woman who has more…needs than you.”

“You think I’m not sexual enough for him.”

“Now don’t be insulted. I wouldn’t be, either.

Face it, Cam, we’re not exactly sexual creatures.”

Cami thought maybe she could be, with a little practice.

“You’re thinking too much, I can hear it,”

Dimi said. “Listen, I can see it in those heated, intense eyes of his. He’ll want…things. Things you won’t want to do. You couldn’t keep a man like that happy.”

“Are we talking about oral sex?” Cami whispered.

“Cami!”

“Well, really. This is the twenty-first century.

I could certainly learn.” Wanted to learn.

“I’m not listening to this.”

“How hard could it be? I’m sure he’d be willing to teach me good…technique.”

“Oh, my God. Look, you don’t even know him all that well.”

“Sure I do.”

“Yeah? Have you told him about us? That you’re a twin?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You never tell any man about me.” Dimi gentled her voice because they both knew why, that Cami always held a part of herself back on purpose, a very important part. She didn’t trust love, didn’t believe in it. “I’m using that as my gauge. Someday you’re going to tell a man you’re a twin, and I’ll know you’re serious about him.”

“Not this man.” Cami’s heart hurt at that and she ignored it. “I don’t want to go tonight.” She wanted to stay home and think about the things Tanner would want from her, how maybe he’d coax them from her in that sexy voice of his.

“Think mortgage.”

Cami thought about Tanner instead, thought about how he’d said she went through mental hoops for everyone’s happiness but her own. She opened her mouth to say something of that nature to her sister, to maybe ask for advice, but Dimi was wise enough to hang up on her.


WHEN TANNER heard the shower turn on, he imagined Cami in there, stripping down, stepping under the spray of the water. Imagined her wet, sleek, perfect body gleaming as she ran soapy hands over her limbs…

And smashed his thumb with his hammer.

While he was dancing and swearing, his cell phone rang.

“Get lucky yet?” his father asked.

“I’ve been working too hard to get lucky, thank you very much.” He sucked on his throbbing thumb.

“Love’s more important than money.”

“Can’t live off sex,” Tanner replied. Damn, that thumb was going to hurt all day.

“I said love, not sex.”

“Well, I don’t do love.”

“I raised you better than that.”

Tanner gave up on the conversation entirely, ignoring his father’s musing that maybe his son was overlooking something really special right beneath his nose simply to preserve his precious bachelorhood out of habit. Bad habit.

It wasn’t bad habit that kept Tanner single, but dedication and hard work. No woman would want to play second fiddle to a struggling business and long hours and…oh, hell.

He was ignoring something special-Cami-in order to preserve his bachelorhood, which meant his father was right.

He could live with that.

Tanner worked some more, and later watched Cami measure a customer for a spring wardrobe.

She’d already explained to him that sewing was how she made money until she got her design business going, and with that news he should have worried about his own paycheck.

Instead he watched her, fascinated. Watched her slim, capable hands spread material, saw her hunch over her plans and talk to herself as she stuck pins into paper and once into her finger.

When she brought that finger to her mouth and sucked, he actually got hard.

So he worked some more and told himself to stop watching her. Which lasted until much later, when she came into his view wearing yet another summer dress, looking nervous.

“Don’t tell me.” He tossed aside his tool belt and studied her. “You’re going through with tonight’s date even after the last fiasco.”

“I promised.”

He opened his mouth to tell her what he thought of her promises to do things she didn’t want to do, but at the look of trepidation on her face he closed it again.

The doorbell rang. They both looked out the window. A shiny red Corvette was parked in front of her walkway. Every inch of the car had been well tended; the chrome was polished to a mirror shine.

“There won’t be any car trouble tonight,” she said, staring out the window.

Any guy who drove a red Corvette with polished chrome was slick, Tanner told himself, and grabbed Cami’s purse off her shoulder.

“Tanner!”

He pawed through the mysterious mess that made up the contents of a woman’s purse and didn’t answer.

“What are you doing?”

Hell if he knew, except the thought of her with a slick, rich mama’s boy just didn’t sit right with him.

No way did he want them to have the convenience of a condom right in her purse. Of course the guy could be packing himself, and if he was smart, he was, but Tanner couldn’t control that.

Aha! His fingers closed over the condom, and he withdrew it.

“Hey!”

He pocketed the little packet just as the doorbell rang again. “Don’t drink and drive, and remember, call if you’re going to be late.”

She gaped at him, then lifted a finger and pointed it in the region of his face. “You’ve lost it,” she said, turning toward the door.

Her hair spun silkily, teasing him with its light scent. Her skirt whirled with her movement, brushing his legs. And her bare shoulders were such temptation he nearly bent and bit her.

Definitely, he’d lost it.

“Not too late to change your mind. Or to stand firm on your own wishes.”

She went still, her hand on the door. “If you know me so well, what are those wishes?”

“Maybe your fantasy date.”

“With who?”

“Maybe with me.”

The doorbell startled them both, and with a soft curse, she pulled open the door.

Tanner decided he couldn’t watch, so he left her alone and disappeared into the back half of the town house, where he had more than enough work waiting for him.

“Meow.”

He looked into Annabel’s face. She looked worried. Dammit, now he was really losing it. “She’ll be fine. She has a cell phone.”