Designed for Love (12 page)

“There was nothing I could do.” Wil sounded truly apologetic.

“So,
now
you’ll let me work with you.”

“No.”

She planted a hand on her hip and gave Wil her hardest stare. “I’m sorry if that sounded like a question, because it wasn’t.”

“No. You’re not working with me. I’ll get it done.” Wil lifted her chin a notch and Jillian was actually impressed. Lesser men and women had backed down from her before.

“I’m sure you will. But
you
don’t need to. I want this done. Do you really expect me to sit around while you do it all?”

“Yes. That’s what you’re paying me for.”

Jillian carefully skirted the stacks of tile on the floor and stepped closer to Wil. “Stop thinking that you work for me.” The resolve in Wil’s eyes didn’t waver, even when Jillian took her hand. “Circumstances have changed, and now we’re in this together.”

“I can’t let you do it.”

Jillian knew where Wil’s resistance stemmed from and, hoping it would pay off, she bluffed. “Then I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

“No one else is going to do it faster. You’ll have a hard time finding someone who can even start for a few weeks.”

“I know. But as I’ll tell your father, Johnson and Son has shown just how little my project means to them. And since you’re not showing enough flexibility to consider my suggestion, I’d rather someone else take twice as long than keep you on the job.” She saw the evidence of her barb in the quick tightening around Wil’s eyes and didn’t wait for a response. “Here’s my plan. The exterior paint will take forever with just two of us. So I’ll hire painters. Other than that, I think you and I can handle everything. I don’t know much about all this sawing and measuring.” She waved her hand toward the table behind Wil. “But I take direction well—I can bring you stuff, hold things while you hammer,” she laughed, “basically do whatever grunt work you’ve got. It has to be better than working by yourself.”

The corner of Wil’s mouth twitched as if she were fighting a smile.

“So—do we have a deal?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to be okay with…working for me now?”

“It’s still my house,” Jillian protested.

“Yes. But we’re not talking about design decisions. You’re asking to join my crew, small though it may be now, so that means you work for me.”

Jillian was silent for so long that Wil thought she was going to refuse. Then she stuck out her hand and said, “Okay.”

“Good.” After a brief handshake, Wil had to force herself to release Jillian’s hand. But even then the feel of Jillian’s slender fingers and soft skin remained.

“So what’s first on the agenda?”

“Have you ever used a wet saw?”

“No.”

Wil handed her a pair of safety glasses. “Put these on. I’ll teach you.”

*

“In here.” Wil entered the bathroom and Jillian followed.

The room was still a work in progress, but already Jillian could see the potential. A new pedestal sink had replaced the stock vanity, and later she would hang a wood-framed mirror over it. The claw-foot tub sat under the frosted window, but the plumbing hadn’t been hooked up yet.

Jillian stepped into the shower stall and crouched to examine the wall. Tracy had installed the first row of tile yesterday and let it set overnight. That morning Wil had tiled the lower quarter of the stall.

“This is going to look great.” She ran her fingers lightly over the tile, pleased with the color. The gentle striations in the gray tone added depth, and the dark slate grout she’d selected would complement it well.

Jillian straightened and found Wil standing beside her. Suddenly they were face-to-face in the small space and Jillian wondered where all the air in the room had gone. Wil’s mouth was at eye level and Jillian couldn’t help staring at it. She barely smothered a moan as she remembered the feel of those soft lips. Gray dust smudged the side of Wil’s neck and when, without thinking, Jillian rubbed her fingers over it, she felt Wil’s pulse trip.

“You—ah, you do good work.” Forcing her fingers from Wil’s skin, she touched the wall instead. Her chest felt tight and her voice sounded breathy.

“I haven’t had any complaints.” Wil’s slow smile said she knew how affected Jillian was.

“I don’t suppose you have. And you certainly won’t get any from me.” Jillian needed to touch her again.

But when she raised her hand, Wil stepped back. Inside the shower, she had no place to go and her back hit the wall.

“We’d better get started on this tile,” Wil practically stuttered.

Jillian figured it wouldn’t take much to seduce Wil. Hell, they were halfway there just from the heat that flared between them every time their eyes met. But now that their crew was basically nonexistent, and Jillian’s planned open-house date was looming closer, letting anything happen between them wasn’t a good idea. They needed to work together without any potential of added tension. She shoved aside the quick thought that making love to Wil here against the bathroom wall would surely release some tension. “That’s not what I need,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She clapped her hands together. “Show me what we’re doing.”

“Okay, hand me that trowel.” Wil blinked at the quick change in mood. When Jillian had touched her, it took every ounce of her will not to gather her in her arms and kiss her until they both melted onto the floor. But then the heaviness between them lifted as Jillian seemed to change gears easily.

Deciding she could summon at least as much self-control as Jillian, Wil knelt and picked up a trowel. She showed Jillian how to apply an even layer of thin-set mortar as an adhesive. Then, using spacers to keep the rows even, she pressed the tiles to the wall.

“I can do this,” Jillian said.

Wil sat back and watched for a moment, smiling when Jillian bit her lip in concentration as she placed the tile. She’d expected anger, even resistance when she told Jillian about the problem with her crew. And she’d seen them both flash in Jillian’s eyes, but what she hadn’t foreseen was how quickly Jillian recovered. Logic won out, and Jillian moved smoothly into determination. Her insistence that she work alongside Wil was admirable, and probably practical, if they had any hope of finishing on time. But though she might enjoy the closeness to Jillian, letting a client work on her own project still stung Wil’s pride.

*

“Does your daughter live in a small town?”

“Heavens, no. She couldn’t wait to get out of here.” Rose settled into a chair in the deep shade of her porch while Jillian, seeking the warmth of the morning sun, rested against the railing nearby.

“City living can be attractive. There are many more conveniences, more options.” Jillian appreciated the variety of takeout, movies, and theater within a few blocks of her condo.

“Dear, I’m seventy-one years old. I don’t need options. I have a granddaughter and two beautiful great-grandchildren I rarely see. I have far too many regrets in this life, and I don’t want not being a part of their life to be one more.”

“I know what you mean. When I was packing up Aunt Mary’s things, I realized I’d missed knowing a part of my family, and it made me sad.”

Rose smiled wistfully. “Mary was certainly worth knowing.”

“What was she like?”

“Stubborn. She was the most pigheaded person I ever met. And far too practical. Good Lord, getting that woman to do anything spontaneous was a chore. But she was also kind, honest, and very generous.” Rose smiled at Jillian. “And now that I’ve met you, I would say those traits run in the family.”

“Only the good ones,” Jillian quipped.

“They’re all good ones.”

“That’s nice of you to say. Why didn’t they have any children?”

“I’d heard they were trying. I guess it just didn’t happen.”

“You two didn’t remain friends?”

“You know how it goes, people grow apart. She was married then. She spent her time with her husband, not out running around with us single gals.”

Rose wrung her hands in her lap, and when she lifted her eyes, Jillian thought she saw the shine of unshed tears. But she didn’t feel comfortable questioning Rose. Perhaps the loss of her friendship with Mary was one of those regrets she’d spoken of.

After a brief silence, Rose changed the subject. “How are the renovations coming along?”

“Wil had to send the rest of her crew over to the school. So she and I are working on it together.”

“I’m surprised she went for that.”

Jillian smiled recalling how Wil had clung to her stubbornness even when logic won out. “She required some convincing.”

“I imagine she would. Wilhelmina is prideful.”

“I get that. She acts as if she has something to prove to the people in this town.”

Rose seemed hesitant.

“I don’t mean to invade her privacy. She just seems so focused on not being seen as less than others. And in my experience that kind of determination comes from somewhere.” Jillian shifted and rested her other hip against the rail, feeling the pull of sore muscles with every movement. Nearly a week of the hardest work Jillian had ever done left her falling exhaustedly into bed every night.

“Her grandfather was not regarded highly in Redmond. He wasn’t a nice man, to anyone, including his wife and son. He, and by extension Johnson and Son, had a reputation for shoddy work and making his employees cut corners if it saved a dime.”

“That’s fairly common among contractors. Though not desirable.”

“In a small town that type of reputation is pretty hard to live down. Bud made some strides toward changing it, even through some lean times.”

“And Wil has inherited that quest.” Jillian was beginning to understand some of what motivated Wil.

Rose nodded. “Inherited it, and made it her life’s work. You won’t find a more hardworking, honest person in this entire town. And even though everyone already knows it, she seems intent on proving it over and over again.”

“She thinks people are constantly judging her,” Jillian guessed.

“That’s one theory. Feeling inferior can become so deeply ingrained that it’s difficult to overcome even when it’s not warranted.”

Thinking about everything she knew about Wil, Jillian doubted she was actually inferior to anyone. She was trustworthy, valued people over possessions, and genuinely cared about improving her town. In Jillian’s experience, there weren’t a lot of people like that left these days.

Chapter Ten

Jillian’s shoes clicked on the kitchen tile as she walked slowly through the room. The finished project looked like something out of a magazine, far exceeding her original vision. Jillian never spent much time in a kitchen, but she warmed when she thought about Wil moving competently around the space. She’d been watching Wil work for several weeks now, and more than once she’d caught herself studying Wil’s hands. Her broad palms and long fingers were surprisingly graceful and strong at the same time. They were confident and efficient, her movements purposeful, and Jillian imagined they would be the same if she was preparing a meal. She didn’t need to imagine those same talented hands on her skin. The memory was as vivid as if they’d awakened together that very morning.

Jillian got two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and wandered into the dining room. There was still work to be done here. The crown molding along one wall had been replaced. After making a few repairs, Wil’s electrician had signed off on all the wiring.

When she reached the living room she crossed to the fireplace. The mantel was in good condition, but the brick hearth had needed to be restored. Jillian had opted to replace it instead with fieldstone, and Wil had completed that transformation while Jillian finished some painting in other rooms.

Wil walked into the living room at the same time Jillian settled on the couch. “The bathroom is completely done. I just installed the last towel bar.”

Wil dropped onto the sofa next to Jillian with a sigh. They’d been putting in long hours every day for two weeks, but it was worth it. Jillian was a quick study and had thrown herself into the work, doing her best to ignore the sexual energy that constantly sizzled between them. Now, even with the loss of three members of Wil’s crew, they had finished only a few days behind Wil’s original schedule.

“I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard,” Jillian said, handing over one of the water bottles.

Wil leaned back into the cushions and took a long drink, emptying a third of the bottle. “Yeah. Hey, since you’re looking for a job, I think Dad’s got a crew you could join.”

“Funny. I’ll leave the manual labor to someone else in the future.” Jillian examined her hands. She’d broken three nails this week and she didn’t think her skin had ever been this rough.

“Not really a get-your-hands-dirty type, huh?”

“Not at all.”

They fell quiet and Jillian closed her eyes. She could easily go to sleep without caring that Wil lounged beside her.

“Let’s go out.” Wil’s voice pulled her out of her trance.

“No thanks. All I want to do is take a shower and get in bed.”