But first...coffee. She slipped her feet into her comfy old fuzzy slippers—the ones she made sure no one ever caught her in—and padded down the staircase to the kitchen. A big, cold, empty house was the downside of being single. The upside was being able to wear whatever the hell she wanted before and after certain hours, when guests were unlikely to come calling.

Her coffee maker was a fancy machine that made espresso, cappuccino and who-knew-what-else-o. It even had its own programmable coffee grinder so she could use fresh beans. It had been ridiculously expensive, but Vickie wasn’t one to worry about that once she saw something she wanted. And she’d never regretted splurging on a machine that made coffee good enough to be served at an Italian sidewalk café, right here in the comfort and privacy of her kitchen.

The built-in speakers had synced with her phone and were playing a jazzy Adele tune. Vickie swayed and shimmied to the music, belting out the words like it was karaoke night at the Shamrock. She pushed her hair behind her ears, idly thinking she needed to check when her next appointment was. She’d need highlights soon. Her hips were still swinging as she poured her coffee into her favorite bright blue mug.

It wasn’t until she was putting the pot back in place that she heard a sound behind her. Coffee sloshed over the edge of her cup as she plunked it down and spun to face the doors to the lake.

Her contractor was on the deck, staring straight at her through the glass. He was on one knee, with a toolbox at his side and a hammer in his hand. He wore a faded thermal Henley and paint-splattered jeans. And on his face, he wore a wide, amused smile. He pushed up the brim of his ball cap, revealing equally amused gray-blue eyes framed with lines from years in the sun.

In the midst of her rising rage was a quiet hubba hubba, but she dismissed it immediately.

“Gordon Lexiter!” She threw open the French doors, channeling a few of the characters she’d played in community theater over the years. It was something she did when caught off guard. Rather than admit embarrassment, she’d grab a character and play them until she found her balance again. Auntie Mame was a personal favorite. She pulled herself as tall as possible. “What the hell are you doing out here? How dare you spy on me in my home like some creeper!”

Gordon stayed on one knee. He also stayed amused, which really got under her skin.