the side of my hand. “Shit!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man was incredibly handsome, though his scowl made his full lips sag and his laugh lines droop. His black hair lacked any sort of obvious product and yet still managed to lie in exactly the best way possible to highlight his crystal-blue eyes. He looked familiar—I felt like I had seen him before. Or maybe it was just those insanely good looks.
He cleared his throat as his gaze slipped down my body.
Oh, hello there. “That’s okay. Good to know my coffee can wake me up one way or the other.” I’m not a natural flirt, but I like to try whenever the opportunity allows. This guy was a temptation I wouldn’t be able to resist. Plus, it would add some sizzle to my Monday morning.
“A shame. It’s a waste of good caffeine.” He wasn’t bad in the flirting department either. He hooked his thumb on his belt close to his groin, his fingers rubbing a small circle across the denim. Oh, yeah—that got me looking all right.
I jutted my hip out a bit when his gaze tracked down my legs. He looked away briefly, only for his gaze to flick up to my throat, which I immediately touched. I swore I heard his swallow from where I stood. “I’m sure I can find more if I need it.”
The hand that held his tablet flexed, causing the muscles of his biceps to flex. “I have no doubt you’d find an endless supply.”
I countered with a smile that Tamara once told me could melt any man’s heart. “No doubt.”
His frown morphed into a tiny smirk.
I shouldn’t preen, but damn he was hot—and it had been more than a little while for me. Yet this guy already seemed different from the typical type of guy I’d normally find following me at the bars. I immediately got a laid-back vibe from him, as though he was a man who’d be just as happy curled up on the couch watching television with a woman as he’d be actively seducing one. I liked TV as much as the next girl.
Almost as much as I liked getting seduced.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I licked the now-cool coffee off the back of my hand. His eyes widened for a moment, but he didn’t look away. All too easy.
When his gaze lifted back to mine, a shiver of desire shot straight through me. I shouldn’t get wet from a single heated look from a guy, even if he was more than a little good-looking. That’s not normally my style.
But come on, he was hot and responsive and so very much my type. Not to mention that my active imagination was going into overtime envisioning what he’d be able to do with those large hands of his.
And maybe I was more than just a little hard up in the sex department. Getting ready for the show launch had eaten up my personal life. Meetings and promo shoots and budget reviews, and blah, blah, blah, until my head was ready to pop. I really didn’t have time for a relationship, but it wasn’t as though I wasn’t allowed to pick up a guy for a fling if I had an itch to scratch. Depending on how things went, maybe Mr. Good-Looking would be up for a quick tumble. “You’re a part of the film crew?” he asked. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked back at the house. And of course he had a nice profile.
“I guess you could say that. I’m Sophia Holbrook, the show’s host and the designer. Carl, the producer, had hired my company to do a small design project for his house and ended up proposing this television show. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I wanted to try and wrap my head around things before everyone arrived.” Truthfully, I’d barely slept last night. It’s amazing how many things there are to stress about when it comes to a new job. My biggest fear? Having my design ideas rejected by the television producers as being boring. Could home renos be boring? “Still, I’m really excited to get started with this project. This is the first time I’ve taken on something this big. Even though my business partner, Tamara, thinks we’re still too new, I can’t wait.”
The man closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course you’re the new designer.”
And why did that comment sound like the kiss of death?
“An inexperienced new designer.” He then muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, Thanks, Carl. “This will be fun.” He did not attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
I wasn’t sure why our conversation had suddenly taken such a negative turn, but I’ve never been one to sit back and wait for shit to hit me. The best defense is a good offense and all that. I mentally switched gears to professional mode and stuck my hand out. “Let’s start this again. Hi, I’m Sophia. And you are?”
His gaze flicked from my face to my hand and back before he slowly reached out and took it. “Fynn.”
I shivered as his long, thick fingers wrapped around my hand. His calluses were rough against my skin as he squeezed gently in greeting. It was easy to imagine what they would feel like slowly caressing my naked body. How easily he’d cup my breasts in his palms and pinch my hardened nipples.
You so need to get laid, girl.
We kept shaking hands far longer than was comfortable. I didn’t want to pull away and be the first one to break the contact, so I kept it going. “I take it, based on your comment about the windows, you’re with the construction team and not the TV crew.”
He snorted, but she caught the faint twitch of his lips. It was almost a smile, one that he looked to be fighting. “I’m not pretty enough to be on camera.”
Oh, I’d argue that point, sweetie. “Oh please, you’re a cutie and you know it. Besides, Reality Life isn’t so much about the looks of their stars as the stories the people want to tell. I’m thrilled that this exposure has come. My friend and I are just starting our business and could really use the boost.”
Fynn still had a hold on my hand—God, his fingers were so long—but for some reason he’d let go so fast my arm dropped. “You’re looking for publicity. Naturally.” Without missing a beat, he stepped back and flipped open his iPad cover. “Sorry, I better get a few things done before the others show up.”
And that was apparently that.
“Okay, well it was nice to meet—” He turned his back to me and stalked away in the direction of the backyard. There’s only one appropriate response to that sort of behavior. “Asshole.” I might have said that a bit louder than a mutter, but he didn’t respond.
It only took another few minutes before trucks and cars pulled onto the street surrounding the location. Men, women, construction trailers, people in all manner of clothing puttered around talking, laughing and drinking their coffee. I wanted nothing more than to go up to the closest group, butt in and introduce myself, but the vibe was all wrong. I didn’t want to piss anyone else off and make a mess of the show before I got started.
Not that I’d admit it to another living soul, but I was terrified of falling flat on my face.
In the blink of an eye I’d gone from design grad and small-business owner to reality TV lead. Sure, it hadn’t hurt my ego when the show’s producer Carl fawned all over my designs, allowing me to totally spaz out discussing engineered hardwood and the benefits of spray foam insulation. His wink and smile, followed by, “I knew you were the perfect person for this job,” hadn’t hurt either.
Tamara was right about one thing—if we were going to be successful in this business, it would take a lot
