Free Building the Perfect Daddy by Brenda Harlen

bare legs seemed endless and the skimpy little tank top she wore over the boxers hugged her feminine curves and made him wish he could do the same.
    His crew chief, always attuned to any potential problems, put down his nail gun to join Ryder at the edge of the roof. Stan whistled under his breath. “Is that the home owner?”
    â€œThat’s Mrs. Schulte,” Ryder confirmed.
    Stan was quiet for a minute, taking in the situation—or maybe just admiring the view.
    â€œYou won’t have to worry about anyone showing up late for this job,” his crew chief assured him. “The guys will be more than happy to work under her. Or over her. Or—” He wisely swallowed the rest of his words when Ryder slid him a glance, then cleared his throat. “No disrespect intended.”
    He nodded. “Help Dalton finish up here with the water shield. I’ll go see what Mrs. Schulte wants.”
    As he climbed down the ladder propped up at the side of the house, Lauryn headed to meet him. She made quite a picture striding across the grass, and he let his gaze skim over her again. Though he knew she couldn’t see his eyes through the dark lenses of his sunglasses, he forced his gaze up to her face when she halted in front of him. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
    â€œThat depends on whether or not you consider a bunch of men banging on your roof at seven thirty in the morning a problem.”
    â€œI’m guessing we woke you up.”
    She shoved a wayward strand of dark hair away from her face. “Good guess.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. “There was no answer when I knocked and no vehicle in the driveway, so I assumed you were out.”
    â€œAt seven thirty in the morning?”
    He shrugged. “Or didn’t come home.”
    â€œWhat do you mean—my van isn’t here?” She glanced over her shoulder and discovered that there were two trucks—one bearing the Renovations by Ryder logo and the other advertising Dalton’s Roofing—taking up the length of driveway. “Oh, right. Tristyn and I cabbed it back last night.”
    He tilted his head to study her more closely. “I’m guessing that was a good idea. Head hurt this morning?”
    â€œOnly because I woke up to someone banging on my roof,” she told him.
    â€œThe tequila had nothing to do with it?” he challenged.
    â€œThe effects of the tequila would have worn off after a couple more hours of sleep,” she said, her cheeks flushing.
    â€œThen I’ll apologize for waking you, but the forecast was for clear skies and Dalton had the weekend free. I thought you would appreciate getting the roof done as soon as possible.”
    â€œI do, of course,” she agreed. “I just didn’t realize it would be this soon.”
    â€œWe actually started yesterday,” he told her. “Tearing off the old shingles and replacing the wet plywood. You didn’t see the Dumpster at the side of the house?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t,” she admitted as her sister—fully clothed—crossed the lawn toward them.
    â€œAnd when we left Marg & Rita’s last night, I told you it was because we needed to get an early start today.”
    She vaguely remembered him saying something about a roofing job, but she hadn’t realized he’d been referring to her roof. “Will you be finished today?” Lauryn asked.
    He glanced up at the clear sky. “I can’t imagine why not.”
    â€œPerhaps because the men who are supposed to be working are all focused on your conversation,” Tristyn suggested.
    He shifted his gaze to his buddies, who were staring down from the roof without any pretense of working. He shook his head, but he knew he really couldn’t blame them. “I don’t think they’re as interested in any conversation as they are in your sister’s underwear.”
    Lauryn gasped softly and