Chapter Eleven
The way Tessa smiled wasn’t the flirty kind of smile women often gave him. It was subtle, mixed with a ton of attitude, and he was starting to see she was doing her damnedest not to reveal it as she strode toward him, carrying two paper plates bearing corn on the cob, ribs, and potato salad, the takeout she’d insisted on picking up.
“Do you want to take a break and come down and eat?” she said, calling up to him where he stood on the extension ladder, screwing in the last screw of the gutter—which had seen better days, he noticed—with his cordless power drill. She was wearing faded blue jeans and a light green long-sleeved shirt with blotches of paint on it.
“All done,” he said. “Can’t believe you took this down yourself, but, Tessa, it’s going to have to be replaced soon
