I Do! I Do!

“Is it okay if I help Nita?” she asked. “I saw a stack of filing in her office.”

He shrugged, thumbs hooked into his wide leather belt. “Sure, that would be fine. Before you do, though, I was going to show you my shop.”

Liz grinned up at him, nearly batting her eyes from sheer habit. “Have you forgotten that you showed me the shop on my first day?”

The term didn’t begin to describe the large manufacturing floor where several workers had been busy assembling one of the various models of the Cates “cow-tipper.”

Mitch cocked his head as an answering smile spread to his eyes, making them glow from within. “Ah, that’s true, but you haven’t seen my personal shop, though.”

“That’s where the miracles happen,” Nita exclaimed in a dry voice that startled Liz. Mitch must not have heard her approach either, because he seemed to jerk away from Liz’s desk and color stained his cheeks.

“Miracles?” Liz echoed, looking from one to the other with a questioning expression.

If Nita had been closer to Mitch’s age, Liz might have wondered if the two shared a history that included more than merely business. She must be imagining things.

“My shop is where I tinker,” he explained. “Where I work on new ideas.”

Liz had known from reading the company history on their Web site that Mitch had an engineering background, but she hadn’t really pictured him doing any of the actual creating.

“I’d like to see it,” she replied.

“Nita, did you need something?” Mitch asked as Liz pushed back her chair and got to her feet.

“I was going to ask Liz for her size so we can order her some company shirts. They take a couple of weeks to get here.”

His gaze flickered over her body, then at his own feet. “Not my area of expertise,” he muttered, his sudden discomfiture reminding her of the way he’d usually acted when she waited on him at the resort. “Uh, I forgot something in my office,” he continued. “Be right back.”

As he hurried away, Liz and Nita exchanged amused glances. “I love it when he gets rattled,” Nita said in a low voice, looking extremely pleased. “He’s a great guy and it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes he needs to have his control tweaked.”

“Most of the guys I’ve known would offer to do the measuring personally,” Liz replied dryly. “And I wear a medium.”

“Okay.” Nita shook her head. “Mitch isn’t that way. I’ve been here since the beginning and I’ve never seen him cross that line. Everyone who works here knows that kind of thing isn’t tolerated.” She glanced over her shoulder, lowering her voice even more. “Trust me, his first love is the business. You don’t have a thing to worry about in that department.”

Nita’s words should have reassured the new and improved Liz, but what she felt was disappointment. Was she attracted to him despite her best efforts?

“Good to know,” she replied calmly just as he reappeared.

“To know what?” he asked.

“I was just telling her that the medical insurance takes effect in thirty days,” Nita replied innocently. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work or the boss will be after me.” She winked at Liz. “I’ll order your shirts. Let me know if you have any more questions about the benefits package.”

“Sure thing,” Liz replied. “Thanks.”

“Okay, shall we go?” Mitch held open the heavy door to the manufacturing area with its noisy machines, loud music and raised voices. Just inside the door was a rack holding hard hats. When she reached for a bright yellow one as she had on her first day, he stretched his hand above her head and took down a green one.

“This is what a Cates employee wears,” he said, handing it to her.

Her name was printed in gold above the molded brim.

“Thank you.” Cautiously she set it on her upswept hair. Funny how having a hat with her name on it made her feel like one of the team.

As a time clock mounted on the wall next to a rack of cards clicked over, he donned a matching hat that looked slightly beat up. “This way.”

Mitch had to bite his tongue to keep himself from telling Lizbeth how cute she looked in her new headgear. He’d thought getting to know her would be easier on his home turf, but she still intimidated him.

Like a little boy showing off a birdhouse he’d constructed from popsicle sticks, he took out a key ring. Unlocking a door in the wall, he led her to the place where his ideas took shape. If she was bored silly, it would probably serve him right for thinking a woman like her would find it—or him—interesting.

Their gazes met as he opened the door and let her go ahead of him. What choice did he have but to try?

“Wow.” Slowly she turned in a circle as she looked around the clean, well-lit room. “I expected someplace dark and cluttered, but this looks more like a lab than an inventor’s workshop.”

His gaze followed hers. On the wall above the spacious counter were assorted hand tools. A rack held blueprints and specs. File cabinets lined the short wall next to a small beat-up desk, bare except for a computer. Across from it was a drafting table. Nothing was out of place.

“I guess I’m a little obsessive when it comes to where I work,” he said apologetically.

Great, now she thought he was some kind of oddball neat freak. He’d hoped she might view him as fascinating and clever, not as the nutty professor.

“I confess, I’m with you,” she said, surprising him. “I just can’t stand having a lot of stuff every-where. It just makes me crazy.” When she leaned closer, the scent he’d learned to associate with her teased his nostrils. “Want to know something?”

“Uh-huh.” He bobbed his head.

“I’m a secret organizer,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I go crazy in those container stores.”

“I…I’ll have to check one out,” he said.

The door was shut to keep out the noise and dust from the main area. Maybe being alone with her in here wasn’t such a good idea.

She looked around curiously, her slim hands resting on her hips. Today she wore navy blue slacks and a man-tailored light blue shirt that failed to disguise her curves. Even now, more simply dressed and wearing little if any cosmetics, she made his breath catch.

He’d be in serious trouble if he had to spend forty plus hours a week in a constant state of awareness, with the blood flow to his brain seriously diminished.

“What does this do?” she asked, indicating a small drill press.

Briefly he explained. “Most of the actual machining is done out there. No point in duplicating equipment.”

“You love it, don’t you?” she guessed. “All this, it’s not just a job, a business. It’s a passion with you.”

“Everyone should work at what they love,” he replied. “What good is success if you aren’t happy?”

“Exactly!” She looked pleased. “That’s what I want, to feel that way about what I do and to work at a job I believe in.”

He studied her, reminded that there was more to her than dark flashing eyes and a shape to make a man weep. “Do you think you can find that here, or is it too soon to tell?”

When she grinned, he pretended it was for the man and not the boss.

“I’m hoping,” she replied. “I guess we’ll find out.”

He thought about tossing caution aside and kissing her, but he’d never gained anything worthwhile by plunging ahead without a plan. Glad she couldn’t read his mind, he took her back to the office, breathing a sigh of relief when the reception desk was safely between them.