Free Stolen Kisses by Sally Falcon

Trevor Planchet was a different story.
    “I live here.” He had the grace to look slightly contrite, and Jessie almost wished she had given in to her earlier impulse. “Don’t you think you should come inside to discuss this? We don’t want to disturb the neighbors when you flail me alive.”
    Though she was tempted to turn and walk back to her car, she nodded and walked stiffly past him into the house. Now she knew why Mrs. Langford-Hughes’s offer had sounded too good to be true. In her excitement, she hadn’t asked too many questions, especially after seeing the house. Looking back now, she realized that that had been extremely foolish.
    “Well, how do you like it?” Trevor seemed eager to know her opinion, almost appearing nervous as he waited for her answer. He rocked back and forth on the soles of his running shoes with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black chinos. Thankfully he was wearing a gray-and-black shirt under his vest this time.
    “It’s a lovely house. Did you do the renovations yourself?” She was reluctant to ask since she’d had so many complimentary thoughts about the unknown owner over the past week. The hard work and good taste that had gone into the renovations seemed at odds with the man in front of her.
    “Yes. It took a couple years, but it was worth every bruised thumbnail and sore muscle.” Trevor’s voice was filled with well-earned pride as he absently reached up to stroke the smooth wood of the newel post. She couldn’t accurately read his expression in the dim light of the brass and beveled-glass fixture overhead. “The house belonged to Daddy’s aunt, but she hadn’t lived here for about twenty years before she died, and it had been divided into three apartments. She asked in her will that it be taken care of properly.”
    “You’ve done an excellent job. She would have been very pleased with the way the house is coming to life again.” Jessie couldn’t hold back the compliment. No matter what she thought of him on a personal level, she couldn’t fault his work on the old house.
    “Thank you,” he answered simply. He eyed her warily, almost gauging her mood before he spoke again. Lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. Then he seemed to come to a decision. “Why don’t we go into the dining room for dinner and discuss what you’ve been working on? Or are you considering throwing that canvas bag at me and storming out?”
    She could feel herself flushing at the accuracy of his question. Just once she would like to come out the winner in an exchange with him, instead of feeling awkward and sullen. “Dinner?”
    “Just a little something I had brought in,” he murmured, still watching her every move.
    Jessie didn’t answer immediately, debating her next move. This commission was a dream of a lifetime, and she’d put too much work into it already to toss it away in a fit of pique. He wasn’t going to have the satisfaction of seeing Jessie DeLord run, but she was going to stay on her terms.
    “I’ll stay for dinner on certain conditions.”
    He straightened from his relaxed poise against the banister, unconsciously reaching up to rub the slight crook in his nose. “And they are?”
    “This is strictly a business arrangement, even if you did trick me into accepting the job,” she stated matter-of-factly, allowing herself a tiny smile of satisfaction. Finally she was calling the shots where Trevor was concerned, and she liked it. “As soon as this turns personal, we call the whole thing off and you find another decorator.”
    If she didn’t know better, she would think he was hurt by her requirements. That was impossible, she knew, for someone with Trevor’s ego. He caught her by surprise when he said, “That sounds fair.”
    As she followed him through the dark shadows of the living room toward the dining room, Jessie wasn’t sure that she’d done the right thing. The echoes of their footsteps on the wood flooring