“Of course, but I can certainly handle my own contractor,” I said with a syrup-sweet smile. “And if I want to hire Barnum and Bailey to construct my new roof in the shape of a circus tent, I certainly can.”

“That would actually be awesome. Not only for wind resistance but for pure visual effect.” He grinned, undermining my entire intent, because I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

The man had the damnedest effect on me.

“Sweet Lord, Jackson, go away. You’re distracting me—Steve. You’re distracting Steve.” Clever cover-up. Not.

“Concentrate harder, Kitty,” he whispered with a shrug and a wink. Then he waved up to Finley, who enthusiastically returned the gesture as she played on their porch.

Wait. Shit. Was he flirting with me? He couldn’t flirt with me. I wasn’t available for flirting, or laughing, or…anything. Had I flirted back?

Guilt gripped me by the throat and squeezed.

I’d only known this man a handful of days.

“Where were we?” Steve asked, glancing at his clipboard.

I sucked in a strangled breath and swallowed past the part of my throat that threatened to close up. The last thing I wanted to do in front of Joey or Steve was take the rescue meds I’d been prescribed for acute attacks. I’m fine. This is fine.

“You were agreeing to work up three estimates for me.” I stood a little straighter, and Joey smiled, unaware that I’d almost lost it. “I’ll need one that includes every safety issue you first addressed, then one that includes new flooring, lighting, siding, and removing that wall between the dining and living room.” Everything I couldn’t do myself. “And one with the works, whatever you think it needs. Give me details on whatever storm-proofing you like. Oh, and I’d love the entire living room to have the ability to retract the windows like one big sliding glass door.” With every word, the vice around my neck loosened.

“It gets windy around here,” Steve remarked.

“It’s an estimate, not a contract. A girl’s gotta keep her options open,” I quipped so quickly that I almost felt like me for a second.

The edges of Steve’s mouth quirked up as he took notes. “Give me a couple days and I’ll get the estimates over to you.” He shook our hands, and when he got to mine, his gaze darted toward the truck, which I still hadn’t managed to get into the boathouse that would serve as its garage. I’d tried twice after the moving company had unloaded her but couldn’t bring myself to open the driver’s door. “Something that big can be a little impractical out here on the islands unless you’re in my line of work. Any chance you’re looking to unload it? I’d give you a fair price.”

My heart galloped, and every hint of sass that had risen to my surface since the Hello Kitty incident sank like a block of cement in that huge ocean behind me.

“She’s not for sale.” The words came out in a strained half whisper.