Missy nodded as she squeezed Candy’s fingers. “See, he is a man of good sense. He had brains enough to see past your armor to the woman beneath.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Candy, honey, I love you like a sister, but look at yourself. You wear bland suits in the wrong size and send out do not touch vibes to every man you meet.”

Missy’s words appalled her. “I do not.” She felt the absurd need to defend her sensible, if slightly dull, suits. “This suit is businesslike and appropriate. I don’t want to pick up men at work. I don’t want to pick men up at all.” She startled herself with her last statement.

“I know you don’t. Ever since you and Gary broke up, you’ve pulled into a shell. That was over a year ago, Candy. It’s time to move on, or at least live a little and have some fun. Maybe Lucas isn’t a forever kind of man, or maybe he is, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Missy released her hand and stood. “I don’t want to see you bury yourself any longer. There’s more to life than just work. You’re both consenting adults, so there’s no problem if you want to have dinner.” Missy offered her last few words with a sly, teasing smile and a wink. “Or hot monkey sex.”

“I’ll think about it.” Her friend had certainly given her a lot to mull over.

“You do that, but you let me know the second you’ve set a date for dinner with Lucas.”

“You’re so sure that I’ll agree to his terms.” Candy picked up a pen and began to tap it nervously against the top of her desk.

“Yes. You’re stubborn, not stupid. And we’re going shopping for an outfit that will knock the man’s socks off.” Glancing at her watch, she sighed. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to go for an early coffee break, but we’ve pretty much used up the time.”

Candy smiled at the other woman, already intrigued by the idea of shopping for something special to wear for her date. She was darned lucky to have as supportive and understanding a friend as Missy. “Here.” She pushed the white bakery box closer. “Take one for the road.”

Missy squealed with joy, snagged a brownie and was out the door in a flash, obviously not about to give Candy the chance to change her mind. Her “see you later” drifted through the door. The sound of her heels tapping quickly as she hurried back down the hall to her office faded in the distance.

Candy pulled out her file on Lucas’ book and her calendar, opened them and tried to pick out the best ten promotional opportunities. She didn’t think he’d agree to more than four or five, but she wanted to be prepared. Her eyes strayed to the phone, but she forced herself to look away. “Stay strong,” she muttered as she snagged the last brownie from the box. Lucas had made her wait. Now it was his turn.

“Fuck!” Lucas swore as he bashed his thumb. Tossing the hammer to the floor in disgust, he glared at his throbbing hand.

“That’s no way to treat good tools.” The male voice was filled with amusement.

Lucas grimaced, his thumb throbbing, as he offered his friend a wry smile. T. S. MacNamara, general contractor and longtime friend, was leaning against the doorjamb, shaking his head. “Obviously, it’s not safe to put a hammer in your hands today. What’s up?”

Lucas hesitated. T. S. was his oldest friend and knew him better than anyone else, even Katie. He and T. S. had been in prison together when they were in their late teens and early twenties. Their very youth, and the fact that they weren’t considered to be hardened criminals or high-risk inmates, had resulted in them both getting jobs in the kitchen. They’d banded together for safety’s sake and had become close friends. They knew things about each other that no one else did. In fact, Lucas was sure that nobody else knew T. S.’s real name.

“Ah.” His friend nodded sagely. “It’s either money or women, and I know it’s not money.” Pushing away from the doorjamb, he sauntered into the room. “Or maybe it is money. I know for sure that this place is putting a dent in your pocketbook. Your contractor is a little pricey, but you get what you pay for.” He flashed a roguish grin. “Should I worry about my next payment?”

Lucas laughed, something he rarely did. His friend had always been able to do that for him, even when they were in prison. T. S. showed an easygoing, humorous side to the world, but behind it, Lucas knew, lay a man who fought his own share of nightmares and demons.

They’d both made something out of their lives, though— Lucas with his coffee shop and T. S. with his carpentry skills. When Lucas had purchased the building, he knew there was only one man he’d trust to do the renovations. Yes, he was a little expensive, but the work was first-rate quality. And Lucas didn’t have to worry about his contractor fleecing him or running out on him. That counted for a lot.

“What would you say if I told you it was money?”

This time it was T. S. who laughed. “Send my work crew to another job site and then roll up my sleeves and teach you how to use a hammer properly.” Leaning over, he picked up the tool, examined it and laid it in the nearby toolbox. “Seriously though, is it money?”

“No, it’s not money.” Lucas rubbed a hand across the base of his neck, trying to loosen the stiff muscles. As every hour went by, the tension in his neck and shoulders got worse. It was midafternoon and Candy still hadn’t called. He knew because he was carrying his cell phone in his pocket and checking the damned thing every half-hour or so to make sure it was still working.

T. S. ambled over to a cooler in the corner, lifted the cover and pulled out a couple of cans. He opened one and took a swig before heading back over to where Lucas was still standing and offering him the unopened beer. “If it’s a woman, then you need this.”

Taking the proffered can, Lucas opened it and took a swig, grateful to get the taste of dust out of his mouth. He’d thought that doing some work on his own building might help, but he hadn’t been able to keep thoughts of Candy from intruding.

T. S. strolled over to the makeshift desk in the center of the room that consisted of two sawhorses with a piece of plywood laid on top and settled himself on one end. Lucas knew the man had the patience of a saint and would wait as long as it took for Lucas to start talking. The image made him smile.

The sinner and the saint, or the devil and the angel— that’s what they’d been nicknamed in prison. Lucas with his blond hair and fair skin had been the angel and T. S. with his black hair and olive-tone complexion had been the devil. He shook his head at the memory. Together they watched each other’s backs. In those days, you didn’t mess with one without incurring the wrath of the other.

Sighing, he carried himself and his beer over to his friend. “Her name is Candy.”

“Sweet.” His friend saluted him with his can before taking another swallow. Lucas laughed. “Yeah, she is that. But she’s prickly too.” Oddly enough, he liked that about her. “She wears these boxy suits two sizes too big, she’s bossy and has the tenacity of a bulldog.” He’d learned that over the past few weeks as she doggedly continued to try to track him down. Now that it was his turn, the little vixen was making him wait. Darned if he didn’t admire her for that.

“And you really like her,” his friend interjected.

“I do,” he confessed. “She’s not the usual kind of woman I date.” He hesitated. “She’d mean something. Maybe too much.”

T. S. nodded in understanding. Neither of them had ever settled into a serious relationship. They both had too much of a jaded past filled with too many horrific memories. “A woman like that is definitely trouble. Maybe you should just walk away.”

“Too late for that.” He’d already come to that conclusion as he waited for his phone to ring. There was something between them that neither one of them could deny.

“Then you, my friend, are seriously screwed.” Finishing off his beer, T. S. plunked the empty can down on top of the piece of plywood.

“Maybe.” He wasn’t willing to admit that to himself. “We’re both adults. Nothing wrong with having a good time for as long as it lasts.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Pushing himself off the plywood, he slowly turned in a circle with his arms spread wide. “You finally decide what you want to do with this space?”

That was the great thing about having a friend who was as close as a brother. He knew when to back away and let things lie. The subject was closed for now, but Lucas knew that T. S. would bring it up again if he thought that Lucas needed to talk.

Standing, he fished a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket. Opening it, he laid it atop of the plywood. “I want to put in office space here. I figure the rental property will bring in a good secondary income.”

“Plus, you won’t have any neighbors.” T. S. leaned over and stared at the paper that held a rough drawing.

Lucas fought back another grin. “There is that.” His friend did know him well.

Hauling a pencil out of his shirt pocket, T. S. began to sketch on top of the plywood. “I see what you’re going for, but this way would maximize your space.” He continued to draw and within minutes the two men were immersed in construction plans.

Then his phone rang.

Candy tapped the toe of her shoe impatiently as she held the telephone receiver to her ear and listened to the shrill ring. She glanced at her watch, wincing slightly. She really hadn’t meant to make him wait this long, but she’d gotten buried in her work and had lost track of time. She counted three rings and was getting nervous when the phone was finally answered.

“It’s about damned time.”

She smiled at the aggravation in his voice and couldn’t help coming back with her own dig. “Now you know what it’s like.”