Read Foundation for Three for Free Online

shoulders lessened—that was until she spotted the construction truck in her drive. “Are you kidding me? You’re supposed to be done! Why can’t you people do what you claim?” Her knuckles gripped the wheel so hard her nail beds turned white.
    Her outburst almost scared her. She never should have had the kitchen and bathroom done at the same time. The delays had been a nightmare, but that was what she got for buying a really old home.
    Be honest . She was distraught over the attack, and merely disappointed the renovation hadn’t been done.
    After cutting the engine, she grabbed her purse and folder and got out. The key snagged in the front door lock, and she was tempted to just ring the doorbell instead of dealing with it. Just then, the key slid in and she pushed open the door. Instead of hammers pounding and noisy nail guns reverberating off the walls, silence met her. Someone had to be here. That truck in her driveway and her alarm system glowing green confirmed it. “Hello?”
    Her plan was to thank the guy and then ask him to leave—politely, of course.
    She waited. No answer. A faint humming came from down the hallway, and she edged toward the sound. The person had to be in her master bath—just where she wanted to be.
    When Zoey pushed open the door, the sight of a tight ass bent over her newly-installed jetted tub almost took her mind off her troubles. From the length of his legs, the man was tall. At least six feet. He was kneeling, polishing the porcelain bath, and her mind shot to her last two boyfriends, Mark and Dave. Sure as hell, neither one of them had ever cleaned a bathroom.
    She’d had a ton of workmen through her house, but she didn’t recognize this guy. “Excuse me?” Regardless if he looked fine from the back or not, he had to leave.
    The worker wore ear buds, which was probably why he hadn’t responded and just kept cleaning. She tapped his shoulder. The man turned his head, removed the buds, and smiled. Her heart stuttered.
    He jumped up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. I wanted to have this all cleaned up before you got home, Ms. Donovan.”
    She had arrived an hour earlier than usual. “You would be?” That came out rude. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a really bad day.” He wouldn’t have any idea what had transpired.
    “Oh, shit. Sorry.” He held out his hand and despite his tanned face, he flushed. “Pete. Pete Banks. Of Banks Construction.”
    The owner . To her knowledge, he’d never stopped by before. She shook his hand, but as soon as their palms touched, he let go. Perhaps he could tell his hand was still damp.
    A bit embarrassed for him, Zoey nodded to the tub. Stay calm. He’ll leave soon . “It looks wonderful. I can’t wait to relax in it.” As in now.
    He stepped back. “Go ahead. I’m done. I just have a few more things to finish up in the kitchen and I’ll be out of your hair.”
    “You’re not done in there either?” Stop it. It wasn’t his fault.
    He tossed her a sheepish grin. “I just need to grout the last few feet of the backsplash. That’s all.” He nodded to the stack of candles still in their wrapper. “I was about to set them around the edge. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
    It was a surprise. It was nice even. “They’re not pink.” Her irrational behavior caused tears to drip down her cheeks, and she swallowed back a sob.
    “Ms. Donovan. Are you okay?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” The tears fell and she wrapped her arms around her waist to keep from throwing up. It was like someone else had invaded her body, and all reason had disappeared. No one cried over beige candles.
    Pete grimaced. “Ah, how about you sit down?” He grabbed a towel off the rack, folded it, and placed it on the edge of her new tub.
    He guided her over there and helped her ease down. “I’m fine.”
    On one knee, Pete knelt in front of her. “I beg to differ, ma’am. Your hands are shaking something fierce, your