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Too Friendly to Date

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2019
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“Good Lord. Do you have sex on the brain? And should you even be talking about sex around your baby? Isn’t that kind of wrong?”

Kelly shrugged. “Maybe.”

“He’s...just going to pretend to be my boyfriend while my family is here. It’s nothing. Except a little weird. But definitely not sex weird.”

Kelly and Susan exchanged a look and Leah groaned. “Save me your married looks and your disbelief. It’s just...it’s just...”

Kelly and Susan waited expectantly, but Leah didn’t even know what she was arguing at this point. She was flustered and embarrassed and about two seconds away from confessing the weird pseudokiss last night. Because these were her friends and usually she confided in them about all manner of man stuff, but this was all wrapped up in stuff she told nobody.

Besides, if she confessed the fake kiss, then they’d really think this was about sex. “It’s nothing. I have work to do.” She stomped off and repeated those seven words over and over in her head, hoping desperately that they were true.

* * *

LEAH WASN’T GOING to like it, but Jacob was used to doing things Leah didn’t like. And, okay, maybe he got a little thrill out of riling her up. Maybe.

He stood on her porch trying to ignore the prick of conscience. This was a little bit of a line cross, especially considering he’d kissed her last night. And she had acted incredibly uncomfortable around him all day.

He supposed that should bother him. But it didn’t. Not in the way it should. He didn’t feel bad or want to get rid of it.

He wanted to explore it. He wondered, way too much in the span of twenty-four hours, What exactly might be the harm? Aside from screwing everything up, remember?

He was having a hell of a time remembering.

He knocked on Leah’s door. Kyle’s and Grace’s disapproving faces annoyingly popped into his mind, but he pushed them away. He wasn’t a complete and utter moron. He could keep his hands to himself.

He could also not keep his hands to himself without ruining everything.

Okay, if history served, that wasn’t true at all, but he’d never exactly gotten handsy with someone he’d been friends with first before.

And when you were a twenty-eight-year-old man using the word handsy in your internal monologue, you really, really needed to get a grip.

“What are you doing here?” Leah demanded, not even opening the door the entire way. In fact, she seemed to be using it as somewhat of a shield.

Jacob held up his toolbox. “We have work to do.”

“I told you—”

“And you really thought I’d let that stand in my way?” He shifted from foot to foot. “I’m freezing very important bits off here. Please let me in.”

She cursed and grumbled, but the door swung open and he stepped into the warmth of her cluttered entryway. She was wearing an oversize sweatshirt, baggy sweatpants and her hair was a haphazard mess on her head.

He made himself look at her face instead of the freckled shoulder exposed by the too-big neckline of her sweatshirt.

“You know Friday is only three days away, right?”

She glared at him. “Cleanliness isn’t my strong suit. I get it. I’m trying to work on it, but—”

“But it’s impossible to put your shoes where they belong?”

“But I like doing things my way. Which is why I don’t want you butting in on that third room.”

“I can’t take it. It’s eating me alive. Just sitting there in disrepair. Let me. Please.” He grinned at her because he knew at least this was their common ground. House stuff. Restoration. They could disagree about everything but this passion they shared.

Do not think about the word passion.

She pressed her lips together in the way she did when she was trying not to smile. Some days he tried to poke out the smile as much as he tried to get under her skin.

“It is hard to say no when you say please.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He didn’t exactly mean for that to sound suggestive; it just came out that way. She turned away and he wondered if she was blushing. Like this afternoon when she’d wiped baby spit-up off his back. That was a weird moment. Weird in its domesticity and proximity and everything.

Christ, what are you doing?

He was going to do a little restoration work, that was what he was doing. He nodded, following Leah to her extra room. He’d lose himself in measuring and planning and he wouldn’t think about Leah that way and if he did...

Grace’s words niggled at him. Be careful with her. I don’t want to see her get hurt.

Aaaand now he felt vaguely sleazy even if he did consider Grace’s admonitions ridiculous.

He needed to start dating again. All this alone time really screwed with his mind.

“Ah, my precious.” He set his toolbox down, immediately going for the measuring tape and notebook he’d jotted notes down in the other day. “How can you stand it?”

“The same way I stand a lot of things. Willful ignorance,” she muttered. Then she glanced around the room. “We have four days. What can we do?”

“I don’t have any pressing business this week. I can get the floor done tomorrow.”

“Too much damage to get it done in one day even if I help you. Besides, I don’t have the money for this.”

“Well...”

“No.”

He hated the way she shut him down before he even suggested anything. She was always doing that. As if she could read his mind. Except, obviously she couldn’t or they would be doing a lot more interesting things than talking about money and floors.

Or maybe she was just being sensible. Which was also quintessentially Leah.

“A loan.”

“You already sign off on my paycheck, asshole. You’re not giving me money.”

“Asshole? Seriously? Calling the man who signs your checks ‘asshole’ seems like a bad move.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, you are giving me a headache.”

“You invested in MC. We can cash you out.”

She dropped her arm, blinked incredulously. “So then I’m not invested in MC?”
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