Steele.
"Do you have someone in your life?" His tone was more serious. He knew what he wanted.
"No, and truth be told, it's been quite a while since I've had anyone in my life romantically," she looked into his eyes for long seconds.
"Well, now that that's out of the way, what are you doing later this evening?" he asked.
"Ah nothing--," she started. "Just unpacking."
"Do you want some company for a bit? I can help you get some shelving hung in that back room and in your sunroom so you can finish sorting the rest of those boxes."
"You don't have to --"
"Repayment for the lunch, that's all," he said. "About eight o'clock?"
"Sure, why not," she said.
"Great, I have two more appointments this afternoon, I'll run home after I'm finished work, and then I'll see you at eight," he said. "Can I bring anything back, Chinese food, bottle of vino?"
"No, we'll be fine." Miranda changed her mind. She needed to lighten up a bit, to start enjoying life more. "You know what, that would be great. Chinese food and vino sounds perfect."
"Okay, I look forward to it," he said starting to help get the dishes in the house.
"I've got this," she said. "Go to your appointments."
"Okay, I'll see you tonight," he said, heading to his truck.
Miranda was pleasantly surprised. She all of a sudden had a date, and she was looking forward to it. Mind you, they would be unpacking, but it didn't matter. She looked forward to getting to know this man. She liked his style; open, direct, honest. She had a feeling there was a lot more to Hamilton Steele than what was on the surface.
Chapter 12
Hamilton knocked on the door precisely at 8 p.m. He had an assortment of Chinese food and a bottle of expensive wine in tow. She knew the vintage well but could seldom afford it. On a handyman's salary? Miranda tried to dismiss the thought.
She had showered and put on an outfit hardly fit for unpacking boxes. But the flowing, casual mini dress was cool and comfortable in the suddenly muggy night air. She had two fans going at full speed; one in the living room and one in the sunroom.
"Hi, he said, admiring how pretty she looked in the short dress, with her hair pulled back in ponytail. "You look nice," he said.
"Thank you," she said.
"Why don't you take this and I'll get the shelving and my tools," he said.
"Okay." Miranda put the food and wine on the kitchen counter.
Hamilton came back in with three long pieces of wood and his toolbox. "Show me exactly where you want the shelving," he said. "I'll go ahead and hang them now." She always did like a man with tools and know-how, like her father. As she approached him to help with the toolbox, she got a whiff of his cologne. Seductive, woodsy.
"Right back here," she said, gesturing with her head. She was barely able to handle the heavy tool box. She was simply tired from the day's work.
"Miranda, I can handle this," he said, taking the toolbox from her. "You lead the way." He nodded with his head down the hallway.
"Yes, sir," she obeyed.
His eyes were on her as she headed to the sunroom. She turned on one of the tall brass lamps sitting on her desk, but the light wouldn't come on. She tried again.
"Do you have someone in your life?" His tone was more serious. He knew what he wanted.
"No, and truth be told, it's been quite a while since I've had anyone in my life romantically," she looked into his eyes for long seconds.
"Well, now that that's out of the way, what are you doing later this evening?" he asked.
"Ah nothing--," she started. "Just unpacking."
"Do you want some company for a bit? I can help you get some shelving hung in that back room and in your sunroom so you can finish sorting the rest of those boxes."
"You don't have to --"
"Repayment for the lunch, that's all," he said. "About eight o'clock?"
"Sure, why not," she said.
"Great, I have two more appointments this afternoon, I'll run home after I'm finished work, and then I'll see you at eight," he said. "Can I bring anything back, Chinese food, bottle of vino?"
"No, we'll be fine." Miranda changed her mind. She needed to lighten up a bit, to start enjoying life more. "You know what, that would be great. Chinese food and vino sounds perfect."
"Okay, I look forward to it," he said starting to help get the dishes in the house.
"I've got this," she said. "Go to your appointments."
"Okay, I'll see you tonight," he said, heading to his truck.
Miranda was pleasantly surprised. She all of a sudden had a date, and she was looking forward to it. Mind you, they would be unpacking, but it didn't matter. She looked forward to getting to know this man. She liked his style; open, direct, honest. She had a feeling there was a lot more to Hamilton Steele than what was on the surface.
Chapter 12
Hamilton knocked on the door precisely at 8 p.m. He had an assortment of Chinese food and a bottle of expensive wine in tow. She knew the vintage well but could seldom afford it. On a handyman's salary? Miranda tried to dismiss the thought.
She had showered and put on an outfit hardly fit for unpacking boxes. But the flowing, casual mini dress was cool and comfortable in the suddenly muggy night air. She had two fans going at full speed; one in the living room and one in the sunroom.
"Hi, he said, admiring how pretty she looked in the short dress, with her hair pulled back in ponytail. "You look nice," he said.
"Thank you," she said.
"Why don't you take this and I'll get the shelving and my tools," he said.
"Okay." Miranda put the food and wine on the kitchen counter.
Hamilton came back in with three long pieces of wood and his toolbox. "Show me exactly where you want the shelving," he said. "I'll go ahead and hang them now." She always did like a man with tools and know-how, like her father. As she approached him to help with the toolbox, she got a whiff of his cologne. Seductive, woodsy.
"Right back here," she said, gesturing with her head. She was barely able to handle the heavy tool box. She was simply tired from the day's work.
"Miranda, I can handle this," he said, taking the toolbox from her. "You lead the way." He nodded with his head down the hallway.
"Yes, sir," she obeyed.
His eyes were on her as she headed to the sunroom. She turned on one of the tall brass lamps sitting on her desk, but the light wouldn't come on. She tried again.
Similar Books
