"No way." His stupid male ego couldn't let her do that. He flapped his free hand and puffed out his chest. "Stand back."
Luckily, the wasps were the more benign paper wasps, not aggressive yellow jackets, but he didn't want Hannah getting stung. He sidled up to the front of the house and located the two nests hanging from the eaves. They were about the size of his hand, with dozens of wasps hovering around them.
Here goes nothing. Lifting the broom, he knocked off first one nest, then the other. As the confused wasps buzzed in the air, he drew back to a safe distance. A warm hand clutched his arm, and he found Hannah pressed up next to him.
"Poor things," she murmured, gazing at the droning wasps that circled where the nests had been. "They're homeless now."
Her fingers were soft, and her hair tickled his arm. He sucked in air and breathed in her floral perfume. He was so giddy on her scent and the warmth of her curves pressed against him that he had trouble concentrating on her words.
"You feel sorry for them now?"
"In a way. They were just minding their own business, and suddenly this giant appears out of nowhere and whacks their home."
"Um, you asked me to whack their home."
"I know. I'm just being silly."
She glanced up at him, and her eyes were wide green pools he could swim in all day. The way she was looking at him, she seemed to be inviting him to kiss her right there in broad daylight. Desire surged over him, but just as he was about to wrap his arm around her waist, she stepped back, dropping her hand away from his arm.
The confusion in her eyes told him that the pull of attraction was working just as hard on her. Paradoxically, the realization made it easier for him to rein in his urges. He was an adult just like she was, and he could show self-restraint.
"We should spray the eaves so the wasps don't come back and build in the same spot," he said. "Hopefully they'll rebuild their nests in the trees."
"Right. I'll remember to bring some bug spray with me tomorrow." She smoothed back some stray tendrils of hair. "You did good. ‘Celebrity carpenter Derek Carmichael helps out squeamish renter.'"
Celebrity carpenter Derek Carmichael gets kiss from sexy renter. That was the kind of video he'd like. But that wasn't going to happen.
"How about you give me the grand tour?" He motioned for her to lead the way into the cottage.
"It's nothing much." She showed him through the house, and it took all of thirty seconds. "But the rent's very reasonable. I should be able to manage when I start college."
"I can just picture you in here," he said, gesturing about the empty, box-like living room. "You could put your desk over by that window so you can look out over the garden while you study."
"I guess." She looked about her uncertainly.
"This whole house needs a coat of paint." The walls in every room were dingy, and the shelves in the kitchen were falling down. Plenty of work to keep him coming around.
"I've wiped down the walls in here and got the equipment ready." She pointed at the brushes and tins of paint next to the ladder. "I was going to open the windows before I started painting. That's when I noticed the wasps."
Derek reached over and hauled open the windows so they could enjoy the breeze while they painted. "Want me to cut in the edges of the walls?"
She nodded eagerly. "Go ahead. I'm no good at doing the edges. They always come out all wobbly."
He got to work. Hannah turned on a radio, setting the volume low, and began painting the center of the wall with a roller brush. For a while they worked in companionable silence, the music from the radio unobtrusive. He thought about her living here alone, cooking, studying, watching TV. She would invite her family and friends over. And when she started college, she'd meet a whole new set of people. Good. Hannah deserved a better life.
He glanced at her again. He couldn't seem to go five minutes without giving her the once-over. Christ, she didn't know how hot she really was. With her sweet sexiness and boundless kindness, she'd attract plenty of guys. The thought of another man touching her, kissing her, made his hand jerk.
"Shit," he muttered at the sloppy line he'd painted. Grabbing a rag, he cleaned up the edge with meticulous care.
Hannah flicked back her ponytail to grin at him. "Glad I'm not the only one who cusses when she paints."
Her teasing grin made his blood throb harder. It wasn't fair. She had no idea what she was doing to him.
"If I leave a messy edge, you'll notice it every time you sit down to study, and you won't be able to concentrate."
She laughed. "Okay. No messy edges. I need all the help I can get with school."
He gave her a long look. "You're all fired up for nursing school, aren't you?"
"Am I ever. I want this, Derek. I want to prove to myself that I can do it." She paused, twisting the brush in her fingers. "Rick always said it was a waste of my time, but of course he was only thinking of himself."
"What a bastard," Derek growled, unable to hold back.
"I should've realized what he was sooner. The signs were there, I just didn't want to see them." She sighed. "Looking back, I realize now that Rick was always a bit immature. He wanted to be this big-shot plastic surgeon, but he didn't like dealing with real life. He married me because I was willing to look after him, not because he wanted to share his life with me."
"He didn't deserve you."
"No, he didn't." She pulled back her shoulders. "But I'm over Rick. He's in the past. I'm moving on with my life."
She might be moving on, but she wasn't completely over her douche-bag ex. That asshole had made her wary of men. She wasn't going to put her trust in another man easily. Especially a man she might consider "immature." Like him. The idea made his shoulder blades tighten up. He hated Hannah thinking he was too wet behind the ears. That he was only good enough for a quick and dirty one-night stand. But what more did he want? A repeat of that night, obviously. But beyond that? He wasn't sure.
Uneasy, he turned back to his paintbrush.
"We're just about done in here," Derek said.
"It looks great." Hannah looked about the living room which had just received its second coat. "Amazing what a bit of paint can do."
She couldn't help watching Derek as he laid his brush down and stretched his arms above his head. God, he had a beautiful body. Those broad, solid shoulders were made for running her fingers over, and how could she forget how it felt to have those strong, tanned arms wrapped around her? His paint-spattered T-shirt lifted a little, giving her a glimpse of his abs. Just a few nights ago she'd kissed that hard belly of his. Kissed and licked it … She stifled a groan of longing.
All through their painting session she hadn't been able to stop herself from ogling Derek. It had to stop. He was only here for a couple of weeks, and she wasn't going to sleep with him again. One night of mad passion was all he was supposed to be, and she was sticking to that. Her job at the nursing home was far from secure, and she couldn't afford to antagonize her manager further, even if Vera was ridiculously biased. More importantly, she didn't want to risk a rift between her and Caleb, not when she was starting a new life and needed his support. And she'd feel terrible if Caleb and Derek-friends who'd stuck by each other-had a falling out over her. There was too much at stake; she had to resist temptation.
"Let's stop for lunch," she said, needing a distraction from Derek's hot body. "I've got a cooler filled with sandwich fixings in the kitchen."
"Any pecan pie?" Derek looked hopeful.
"Sorry, I gave the leftovers to Caleb, but there's plenty of other stuff." She'd brought enough food for two, expecting Amber would drop in, but it seemed Amber was steering clear. Because she knew Derek was here. In fact, she'd deliberately sent him here, the devious plotter. "I'll fix us a couple of sandwiches."
"Oh, Hannah," Derek called after her as she headed for the kitchen. "I don't mind horse feed in my sandwich."
She turned and laughed. "Right. You're all grown up now."
"Glad you noticed."
He had an elbow resting on the stepladder, causing his T-shirt to ride up and give her another glimpse of his flat stomach with its happy trail arrowing past his jeans. She swallowed. Jesus, how could she not notice Derek was all grown up?
She hurried to the kitchen where she focused on making the sandwiches. A few minutes later, Derek's footsteps sounded behind her. The hair on her nape stirred.
"I've got ham, roast beef, or tuna. Plus pickles and chips. Oh, and there's grapes, too." She heard herself babbling but couldn't stop herself. "And iced tea in that other cooler. Do you want to eat outside away from the paint fumes?"