In general, he and Sierra didn’t make a habit of splitting up—in fact, they generally only scheduled one project at a time—but because the Draper shit show had eaten up the contingency days and then some, they’d done what was necessary to try to keep everyone happy.

The result was that he saw her less during the day, and though he missed her, he suspected it was just as well. It was getting harder to keep things strictly professional when they woke up together several mornings each week.

Cole was inspecting the window trim in the den—it had suffered water damage and would need to be replaced, along with the window—when he felt Sierra’s arms wrap around him from behind.

He twisted to face her, glancing around to verify that no one could see them. Though Carlos and Troy weren’t due to show up for another half hour or so, the only two they could spare from the bank site today, teams from the other two finalists were here, taking notes and measuring as well.

He pressed a quick kiss to Sierra’s forehead and nonchalantly slipped out of her arms. “Nine-foot ceilings make it seem bigger, especially with the tall windows. The crown molding will need to be replaced.”

“I agree,” she said from behind him, a hint of confusion in her voice, which had to be because he’d walked away. She was rarely confused about a renovation project. “Colonial revival molding, for sure.”

She pulled out her measuring tape, as she’d done in every room so far, and together they measured everything—twice—from the windows to the fireplace to the room size.

“What do you think about some built-in shelves on this wall?” Cole said, imagining the room with a little less space and thinking it would only add to the coziness of it.

Sierra came over to him, so close he caught her Creamsicle scent and, in spite of himself, imagined pressing her up against the wall and devouring her with his mouth. He wouldn’t, not here, but he thought about it in graphic detail for the seconds Sierra took to consider his shelf idea.

“I think,” she said slowly, her eyes starting on the wall behind him and then veering up to his face, a flirtatious sparkle in them, “that a man who likes to read is super hot.” She ran her hands up his chest, went up on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his lips.

He was drawn in for a few seconds, unable to pull himself away from her tempting body, her sexy onslaught. Footsteps on the creaky floor above them pulled him back to the reality of where they were and what they needed to be doing. It wasn’t kissing, but they could make time for that later.