Quick Trick (A Rough Riders Hockey Novel Book 1) by Skye Jordan, Joan Swan

from the main house, it’s from the guesthouse. That’s where I’m staying. And when I’m fixing something, neither of my parents bitch at me. So I’m happy to do it.”
    “That has to suck.”
    He lifted a shoulder but broke eye contact and studied the faucet. “Whatever.” He refocused on her. “Are you going to wind all those yourself?”
    “I tried to tempt Caleb with a paycheck, but those fishing reels must have really caught his eye.”
    “I’ll help.” He moved forward. “And you don’t even have to pay me.”
    She smirked. “Oh no?”
    He dropped into a crouch, looked her directly in the eye, and grinned. “I’m more into trades.”
    Setting aside the faucet, he dropped to his butt, crossed his legs, and grabbed the tail end of a light strand.
    “We’re not trading anything,” she clarified.
    “That remains to be seen.”
    “You must have better things to do.”
    “Than sit here and look at you?” he asked. “Nope. Notta one.” When Faith just shook her head, he asked, “So what’s your project? The one you were talking to Taylor about?”
    Faith’s stomach tightened. “How long were you eavesdropping?”
    “Why? Saying things you don’t want me to hear? About me maybe?”
    “ Pfffft . We weren’t talking about you.”
    “If you say so. But it would probably be better for you to just tell me about the video you’re planning, because I’m sure your version would be tamer than the things I have rolling around my brain right now.”
    “And why are you so sure of that?” She was caught between annoyance at his arrogance and amusement at the lengths he was going to gain her attention. “Because I live in the boondocks, you don’t think I can think just as dirty as you?”
    His hands halted in the middle of winding a strand. He lifted his brows in a teasing expression, but his pretty eyes took on a little shadow of heat. “Should we compare notes?”
    Man, that voice. The smooth, low rumble settled heat low in her gut. But she chirped, “No, thanks.”
    And he chuckled, refocusing on the lights. “Hey, I’m really sorry to hear about your dad.”
    The warm, authentic tone of his voice drew her head up.
    He glanced at her, then back at the lights. “I didn’t know him well, but he was always real nice to me.”
    The sadness that always came with the reminder of her father’s death weighed heavy in her heart. “Thanks. He was an amazing man.”
    They continued to wind lights in silence for a minute or two, but the time stretched into an eternity while Faith kept trying to figure him out.
    When she couldn’t and her frustration won out, Faith tied off another strand and tossed it into the growing pile. “Why are you sitting on the floor winding lights?”
    He looked up. “I’m helping.”
    She tipped her head and gave him a come-on look.
    He grinned, shrugged. “Maybe I’m trying to come up with a way to ask you out that you can’t refuse.” He darted a glance at her from beneath those thick lashes. “Maybe I’m hoping if you get to know me a little, you’ll say yes. Maybe—”
    “Maybe you don’t want to go home,” she finished for him.
    “Maybe. But those other things are true too.” He tossed another rolled strand into the pile. “I’m dying to know what project you’ve got planned with this mess.”
    She sighed—partly because of the mess in front of her and partly because over the last couple of days, she’d grown to like the guy. And she didn’t want to like him. “This isn’t my proj—”
    Something clicked in her head. Her hands froze. And she looked at the pile again, but this time she saw something other than a headache. She saw an opportunity.
    “What just put that spark in your eye?” Grant asked.
    She met his gaze, and when she found true interest there, she explained her thoughts about following Taylor’s example on YouTube. “Taylor makes really good money doing it. Granted, she talks about a totally different topic, and my knowledge