Maggie Moves On(25)

“You already checked every possible entry point on the first floor. What are you going to do next? Scale the side of the house and try the second floor?”

“I’m merely going to point out that you should consider being more careful about ending up alone in a house with a man you barely know.”

“You insisted on coming in,” she argued.

“A bad guy would be pretty damn insistent, too.”

“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Wright,” she said, a pretty pink flush working its way over her cheeks. “But I did my research and not just on crime statistics. I looked into you, too. I look into everyone I hire. I’m careful. And just because you don’t see my due diligence happening, it’s always a safe bet that I’ve done it. I don’t make snap decisions. I weigh my options. I do my legwork. So when I decide to do something, you can bet that I know what I’m doing. Second-guessing me is never in your best interests unless you enjoy wasting time. Got it?”

“My mom is going to love you,” he told her.

The look she shot him could have frozen lava into an iceberg. “If your goal is to annoy me, it’s working.”

“I’m just trying to get to know you and look out for you at the same time. I’m multitasking.”

She didn’t look impressed. “Go home, Silas, so I can get back to work.”

“I’ll go. And I won’t even comment on how you seem to do a whole lot of working and not much playing.”

“I appreciate you not pointing that out.” She gave him a shove toward the front door.

He gave the knob a hard jerk, unwedging the door from its frame. “Full disclosure, Mags?”

She cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“I believe in signs. A few weeks back, I ended a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere no matter how many times we tackled it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said dryly.

“See, we should have worked. But something was fundamentally wrong.”

“I don’t need to hear the details of your love life. We’re working together, not living together.”

“Here comes the sign part,” he warned. “I’m pretty sure we’re meant to be.”

Her eye roll was extravagant. “Now you’re really making me regret letting you in.”

“I’m not saying we should get married.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yet.”

Her eyebrow-raise was perfection.

“But I am saying I see the two of us getting along real well. There’s a hell of a lot of potential standing right here,” Silas said, pointing back and forth between them.

Maggie tapped a finger to her chin. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to remember the last time a contractor proposed marriage this early on. I’m going to have to update my background checks to include workers who are too easily dazzled into monogamous fantasies.”

“See? That right there. Anyone who doesn’t fall hard for you is a damned fool.”

“I agree. Now, go home. And don’t come back tomorrow all puppy-dog-eyed and mopey.”

He leaned against the jamb. “I know I’m coming on strong, and I know a lot of it’s just flirtatious fun. But when I look at you, Mags, I see something I’ve been waiting for.”

“And when I see you, I see someone I hired to do a damn good job. Regardless of any personal feelings—one-sided or other—I expect you to deliver what you promised.”

“Oh, I’ll deliver,” he promised. “You and me, Maggie. We see things the same way. You don’t look at this place and see the flaws, the hundreds of hours of labor it’s gonna take to make her shine again.”

“Pretty sure I see all that. And how much it’s going to cost.”

“But you also see what she could be. And that’s what makes the work worthwhile.”

She followed him out onto the porch. “Do you make it a habit to fall in love with all your clients?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. I do not.”

She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out how long the crazy would last.

“I can’t do anything about you being dazzled by me or whatever the hell put those cartoon hearts in your eyes. But I can return the full-disclosure favor.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“I’m going to turn this place into a damn dream home. I’m going to make it so beautiful that every person who drives into Kinship spots it on the bluff and hears about the Old Campbell Place. And once every detail is perfect, I’m going to sell it to a lucky buyer, and I’m going to move on. Because I always move on.”

“Just because you’ve always done something doesn’t make it a choice,” he said softly.

“I’m not the settle-down type, Sy. And you’re not the pick-up-and-go type. That potential you think you see doesn’t actually exist.”

“Maybe you just can’t see it yet.”

“And maybe you’re miscalculating again and missing a big, glaring, fundamental problem. I’m not a ‘spend your life with me’ girl. I’m a ‘let’s have a good time while we have the opportunity’ woman.”