His For Christmas by Kinsley Gibb

escape pity, but
she was aware she had a job to complete.
    The Scott Beach house renovation needed her
absolute focus, her attention to detail and the professionalism she
was known for. So Anabelle patted her hot cheeks and straightened
her cardigan before she remembered she'd forgotten the stupid thing
at the office.
    “I mean…it’s beautiful.”
    Better.
    A dimple in his right cheek appeared, joined
the eye twinkling he had going and for a moment she was in jeopardy
of swooning.
    Did anyone swoon these days?
    She shook her head. It was time to lay off
the stacks of historical romances she’d been devouring. But have
mercy, the man stood in front of her barely dressed with his shirt
held together with three measly buttons. If he’d finished the
remaining ones, maybe she’d have a chance.
    “What do you think of the walnut
finish?”
    She grabbed the conversational lifeline.
“Love it. It’s a perfect match to what the client requested. It’ll
work well with the other finishes yet contrast nicely with the dark
bamboo flooring we’ve already installed.”
    Almost normal, almost like a professional
businesswoman.
    Definitely not like a hormonal teenager
salivating after the latest heartthrob, which his presence often
reverted her to.
    “I’m glad.” The grin he offered struck her
resolve to remain professional. His eyes did that twinkling thing
again and held her gaze captive.
    Focus, Anabelle. Focus.
    She took a quick breath, her eyes veered
from his and landed on a partially finished library table. “This is
striking Derek. I showed my new client photos of your work and they
want to commission a farmhouse table for their kitchen.”
    His eyes lit up. “That’s great. I should pay
you commission for all the work you’ve given me.” He winked and she
locked her knees just in case that swooning thing did occur. “This
one isn’t finished but it’s coming along.” He reached over and
flicked residual shavings left behind. She caught a peek of his abs
mid stretch.
    Holy cow.
    She nodded, murmuring, “Yes, it is.” She
probably looked like a bobble head but it seemed wrong to drool in
silence.
    “The boards for the table came from an old
Lenore barn. There are more beams out back if you want to see.
They’ve got lots of character. Land development is brisk over there
and they called us in to salvage what we could before
demolition.”
    “Good call.”
    He stood.
    Goodbye beautiful abs.
    “Look at the turned legs on this baby.” He
lifted the table as if the thing was weightless. Anabelle was
rewarded with another peek of abs.
    Sigh.
    He lowered the table and the view
disappeared.
    “The details are outstanding, Derek. It’s
not a wonder business is booming.”
    Derek bent to scope the levelness of the
top, running his hands over the grain in a reverent manner.
Anabelle suffered a bit of wood envy but caught a glimpse of his
pecs in the process.
    Sigh.
    He stood.
    Goodbye.
    “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Whatever the reason,
I’m grateful more people are interested in pieces with character
rather than getting mass-produced items.”
    Anabelle nodded. “Save us from IKEA.” She
was rewarded with another peek of his yummy abs and licked her
lips. Then it was gone again. He moved to another piece and
inspected it.
    Peek-a-boo .
    She couldn’t stand it.
    “Button up already.”
    He jerked to a stop and Anabelle froze.
    Had she said that out loud?
    Derek fastened the remaining buttons with
narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was hot
and before you came by I was hand scraping a beam and—“
    “No Derek. Please, stop. I’m the one who’s
sorry. So sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This day has
been…”
    “Been what?”
    The heat from her cheeks burned, but she
couldn’t let him think he’d been rude. “You’re fine…I mean…it’s
fine. Please.” She grabbed his hands to stop him but instead
brushed against his abdomen.
    They both stiffened at the