Men were like some kind of exotic species to her. Seen in the distance, but she rarely had the opportunity to interact with them on any kind of personal level. As a result, she had lost the knack for flirtation. When she did encounter an eligible guy she usually developed a case of verbal diarrhea or worse, clammed up and appeared downright aloof.

On some level she knew she had engineered her life this way. Her last relationship, with Barry, the accountant, had ended badly more than three years ago. She hadn’t caught him cheating or discovered he was a cross-dresser or anything so dramatic. He didn’t kick puppies, or belch excessively or belittle her in front of his friends. He was a nice guy. A nice guy who happened to find the prospect of spending anymore time with her completely uninspiring. He had simply said that life was short and he didn’t want to spend it being bored, with her. He needed some excitement, something to look forward to, and all he could see with her was routine sex and a lifetime of wondering if he was wasting his life.

Harsh, yes, but at least she had found out he before they had moved in together, or gotten engaged. That would have been really messy. After the initial hurt wore off, Lacey realized that he had actually done her a favor. She hadn’t exactly been head over heals with old Barry, but he had seemed like a good, solid, marriage prospect. At the time she'd thought perhaps passion was not a very practical consideration when it came to choosing a life partner. Compatibility, reliability and respect had seemed like an excellent basis to a committed, monogamous, long-term relationship. But it wasn’t, at least for Barry. And if she was really honest with herself, she wanted more too.

This disaster, in addition to being a first-hand witness to her parent’s horrific divorce eight years ago had convinced her that life without romance was so much cleaner and less complicated than constantly compromising with another person. Relationships were just messy and potentially painful. Bottom line was she hadn’t been willing to take a chance and trust another person after Barry had dropped the Boring Bomb. If it meant being a little lonely, then that was the price she was willing to pay to avoid having her heart stomped into little tiny pieces.

Recently, however, she’d started regretting her decision to give up on romance. When she hung out with her happily married friends, or watched a chick-flick where everyone lives Happily Ever After, she suspected she was missing out on something important. Something wonderful. When her promotion at work finally came through, she decided that it was time to put her personal life in order, too. She would try to make an effort to be open to meeting someone and to keep her mistrust at bay.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t met anyone worth the risk to her heart since making that decision. And it certainly didn’t help that she was addicted to romance novels. The studs in those books certainly made her hyperaware of what she was missing, especially on evenings when the thought of climbing into her bed alone seemed like the most depressing thought in the world.

She hated herself for needing anyone, but she wanted someone there to touch, someone to hold her and make her feel beautiful. And there never was anyone. Just her dog, Charlie. And he was cute as hell, but not exactly what she was looking for in a bed partner. He snored, for one thing, and had a tendency to chase squirrels in his sleep.

She wanted her dream guy. No compromises. If she was going to make an effort then she wanted someone incredible. Someone hot, but unaware of it; employed, but not a workaholic; kind, but not a doormat. In short she wanted the hero from one of her sexy novels, in the flesh. Damn those books. They made it just about impossible for average guys to measure up to her expectations. Until they’d come to this Open House anyway.

“I’m serious this time. Why would the builder be spending so much time with us if he’s not interested in you? That’s the real estate agent’s job. Not his.” Diana persisted, closing the closet door, so the stud-muffin in question wouldn’t overhear their conversation. He’d paused in the hallway outside the master bedroom to answer his cell phone.

For just a second, Lacey thought her mother might have a point. Why was he with them exactly? He’d spent the last half hour showing them all the impressive features of the Show Home and had only left them alone long enough to answer his cell phone. Could he actually be interested in her? A guy who practically oozed sex appeal like that? No way! He’s probably just a really friendly guy, she thought to herself.

“Maybe he’s trying to help sell this house? That is his goal, right? He’s just being very thorough,” Lacey said absently, admiring the customized closet’s many drawers and shoe shelves. There was even a small round window on the back wall.

She walked over, looked outside, and was delighted to see rose bushes, grass, and the Rocky Mountains in the distance. She sighed. Even the closet window has a view, she thought. Unlike her current apartment which featured a grim view of either a cinder block wall from the bedroom window or a front row seat to her creepy exhibitionist neighbor's bedroom from the patio. She shivered at the thought of his hairy, portly body squeezed into a schlong thong. Yuck! She’s kept her blinds closed since that unpleasant sight had assaulted her eyes a few months ago.

“He’s selling something, alright. But it’s not this house. You already told him it’s too big for you. Face it. He thinks you’re cute.” Diana gave her daughter a sly wink and pushed her toward the closet door. Lacey opened it to find Mr. Sexy Builder Guy standing on the other side, looking a little puzzled as to why they were checking out the closet with the door closed.

“We were just curious to see if the door closed all the way,” she said, giving him an inane smile. “It looked a little warped or something.”

“Warped? Seriously?” He asked, seeming downright offended that a door in one of his houses would dare to be sub-par. He maneuvered around her, brushing his large warm body against her in the process, and opened and closed the doors several times, examining it for flaws. “Looks okay to me. In fact, it looks pretty much perfect.” But he wasn’t looking at the door, he was staring intently at her with laughing green eyes.

Their gazes locked and Lacey felt the strangest sense of connection with him. Looking into his eyes seemed more intimate than having sex with her ex-boyfriend. In fact, doing the nasty with Barry seemed quite cold compared to the weird electricity flowing between her and this stranger. Just a glance from him and her palms were sweating and her panties became as moist as a rain forest. She forced her eyes away from his before she embarrassed herself by completely losing control and launching herself into his arms.

She regained her composure and moved toward the master bathroom, putting as much distance as possible between herself and his mind-numbing, testosterone-induced brand of hypnosis. He must have an excess of pheromones or something, she thought. Or I’ve been without a man so long that I’m becoming hysterical from sexual frustration. That must be it. She was just imagining there was something between them. All she needed was a quiet evening alone with her battery-operated boyfriend and she’d be fine.

“Mom, did you notice the heated floors in the bathroom? Wouldn’t they be incredible on a cold morning?” Lacey called over her shoulder, acting as casual and nonplussed as possible considering she’d nearly assaulted a complete stranger in front of her mother.

Chapter Two

An hour later, Lacey and her mother were walking slowly toward the car. Alone. Not only had Mr. Superstud shown them the rest of the Show Home, he had also shown them the other three row-houses, which were in varied states of completion.

Lacey was impressed with both his generosity and talent. He was knowledgeable and obviously passionate about this project and answered every single question her mother shot at him with patience and humor. Lacey could tell that Diana was completely charmed and wouldn’t be surprised if she did the unthinkable and offered Lacey’s virtue on a silver platter if this continued much longer.

Unfortunately, her virtue seemed quite safe at the moment. As they’d been leaving the last property, he’d received yet another call on his cell phone and had excused himself to go back inside and answer it. They’d waited on the porch for a few minutes to say good-bye, and thank him for a tour, but his phone call had continued and they’d decided to leave. Standing around and waiting for him had seemed intrusive and a trifle desperate.

As they reached their vehicle, Lacey noticed Serena walking down the path from the Show Home toward them. She met them on the sidewalk between where Lacey’s Mini Cooper was parked at the curb and the sleek, white Mercedes.

“Wow,” Serena said, clearly shocked. “I can’t believe you’re still here. You really did get the grand tour, didn’t you? Jay usually can’t be bribed or threatened to do that. You must have caught him in a really good mood, or something.”

“He was really great. He showed us everything,” Lacey said, trying not to gush.

“Hmmm… I’ll bet he did. It sounds like you really liked what you saw.’ Serena raised one finely arched eyebrow at Lacey, and it was obvious that she was not talking about the granite or the crown moldings.

“Well, they’ve done an incredible job here. We were very impressed, weren’t we, Mom?”

“Absolutely,” Diana agreed. “That young man knows his stuff. And is extremely easy on the eyes.”

“Mom! Seriously?”

“Well, he is. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head when he bent over in front of you to demonstrate the built-in vacuum. You practically salivated, dear.”