wore a sleeveless gray sweatshirt and his faded jeans, weighed down by his tool belt, hung low on his hips. When he raised his hand to wipe a trickle of sweat from his forehead, his biceps bunched into a solid mass of muscle.
Sylvie swallowed and tried to look away from the tuft of underarm hair that peeked out of his sweatshirt and the startling white skin on the underside of his arm. The stark contrast of masculinity and vulnerability, hard muscle covered with velvet skin, thrilled her. She wanted to trace her hand down the underside of his arm and follow the prominent blue vein down to his wrist. She wanted, no, she needed, to get it all down on paper. Everything about this man... The sweat-streaked dirt on his face, his muscles. God, his neck. He had a beautiful neck. Even the shape of his—
“Sylvie, child, are you in there?” Pops shook her shoulder and smiled quizzically into her face.
She blinked and tore her gaze away from Adam’s armpit. Oh, help. She was mesmerized by a man’s armpit. Maybe Pops was right. Maybe she was going stir-crazy and didn’t even know it.
“Sorry. I was just thinking...” She glanced at Adam and hoped like hell she wasn’t blushing.
Pops put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “She does that sometimes, goes off into a cloud. Back to earth now, honey?”
She made herself smile. “I’m back.”
“Moonbeam’s inside,” Adam said.
He’d stepped back a pace, as if he knew exactly where she’d drifted off to and didn’t want to go there with her. “She kept hanging around, and I was afraid one of the shingles would hit her, so I put her in my house. I should have told you. Sorry.”
In case some of her rapture of studying his armpit still lingered, she kept her gaze trained over his right shoulder. Pathetic. If she was going to stay in Collina, she’d have to get a social life and start dating because lusting after Adam Hunter didn’t work for her. She needed someone else to drool over. “Thanks for looking out for her.”
“That cat spends more time over here than she does at home.” Cal grabbed an old towel draped over the workhorse and brushed the dirt off his arms as he squinted up at the roof. “We’re almost done this side. We should get a good start on the other side today.”
“Then you can spare a few minutes for your old man,” Pops said before turning to Adam. “I was thinking of your grandmother this morning.”
Sylvie stiffened and watched Adam from the corner of her eye as he hesitated before hanging his tool belt over the workhorse. Did Adam know anything about his grandmother and Pops’s friendship? Probably not. How could he? She hadn’t known and she’d lived right here at the time.
It wasn’t his fault what had happened, but still, the situation was uncomfortable. Except as far as she could tell, she was the only one who had a problem with it. She sighed. She was acting like a bitch, taking her resentment out on Adam. She could at least act neighborly toward him. Maybe even offer the use of her kitchen and bathroom while he was working on his house.
And maybe when she got everything straightened out, she could paint his portrait. It would be a sin not to try to capture something of Adam’s... What?
Well, body for one thing. But the appeal was more than that. He was a delicious mixture of contrasts that intrigued her. He was, in a word, a challenge. Maybe that was what her problem was. She’d been stuck doing seascapes for so long, she needed new, fertile ground to mine.
When she heard a note of longing in Pops’s voice, she forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying about Adam’s grandmother. Not exactly the confirmation she sought, but something had definitely happened between them.
“She was always excited when you came to visit. You were her only grandchild, weren’t you?” Pops said.
Adam smiled. “Yeah. I loved spending time with Gram.”
Pops stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back against the workhorse. “Your parents still live in Toronto?”
“My mom’s in Vancouver.” Adam shoved some of the discarded shingles to one side with his foot. “My dad’s dead.”
“Sorry to hear that, son. No doubt he’d be proud of you, coming here and making a home.”
Adam shot him a look from under his brow. “Maybe.”
Sylvie could see he didn’t like talking about his family from the way his shoulders had drawn together, and how his hands made a couple of spastic fists before he relaxed them.
“What kind of work was your dad in?” A question Pops had asked every one of their friends at some point.
But Adam had gone somewhere deep inside himself. He did his stillness thing, as though if he didn’t breathe or take up space, they wouldn’t notice him. Silly to feel that she should protect him. And from what? Her father?
“He was in security,” Adam said.
“Ah.” Pops smiled. “You mean like a security cop?”
“Something like that.”
Pops nodded, looked at the roof. “You boys are making good progress. I won’t hold you up. Ready to go, Cal?”
Cal slung his tool belt beside Adam’s. “I’ll be back in a bit. We’ll start on the other side after you eat.”
“Great.” Adam scratched his arm as both he and Sylvie watched Cal back his truck out of the driveway.
“I’ll get Moonbeam if you want.” Adam didn’t look at her as he brushed dirt off his jeans.
“If she’s happy where she is, leave her. I’ve got to go to work, anyway. I was just worried she’d get hit by a shingle. I see Romeo’s smart enough to stay out of the way. Just so you know, you don’t have to feed Moonbeam. She has lots of food at home.” Shut up. She had the urge to babble about anything but...armpits.
She looked at the debris on the ground, at the roof and finally at Adam. Why did the workingman thing look so fantastic on some men? Oliver would just look dirty. Adam looked manly. Scrumptious, if she was being honest.
Sylvie tore her gaze away. Oh, God, she wasn’t getting a thing for him, was she? Of course not. He was a healthy, vibrant male in his prime, and she...
She was an artist and couldn’t help noticing details about people. Like how Adam withdrew at times or how he did that thing with his hands. She had no intention of adding to her messy life by becoming attracted to another man. Going out on a few dates with a guy was fine. But an intense attraction? No way.
“Are you all right?” Adam frowned at her.
“Me?” Her smile faltered. “Of course. I was thinking...well, I haven’t actually thought it out, but if the inside of your house is going to look like this.” She pointed at the exposed roof. “You’re welcome to use my kitchen and bathroom for cooking and stuff. If you want.” That hadn’t been so hard. She could act neighborly.
Adam folded his arms. “I don’t know. It’s nice of you to offer, but um...your family. They might not think it’s such a great idea.”
She
