Clear as Glass

revenue.”
“Blake Glassware is a perfect candidate for an online store.” Jaye had to convince Mitch Blake to give her a chance. She was tired of being a faceless drone stuck in a cubicle, writing code. If she could help real people, she wouldn’t feel so invisible. “I’ve seen remarkable upticks in sales when companies branch into the virtual marketplace. With the right photography, your glassware will capture buyers on a global level.”
Mitch let out a dry laugh. “We have to hire a photographer, too?”
“No. I’ll take photographs for the website.”
“Two for the price of one.” He blew out a sigh. “How much is this project costing?’
“Nick hired me to work for one month. He asked me to keep the terms confidential, but you’re welcome to ask him for the details.”
“I intend to.” His hand tightened on the oak chair, his knuckles turned white against his wind-burned skin. “Tell me, when did you sign this contract?”
“Two weeks ago.” The hair along Jaye’s arms stood, poking the insides of her sleeves. “Didn’t your father tell you?”
“An hour ago. If I hadn’t run into him at my brother’s football game, he might’ve neglected to mention your arrival at all.”
No wonder Mitch didn’t welcome her with open arms—he had no idea she would show up. Their ridiculous predicament made a spurt of laughter bubble out of her fatigue. “We’re not off to a good start, are we?”
His hard stare could have been fused from glass. “My father will think this is downright hilarious.”
At least someone around here had a sense of humor. Jaye tilted her head. “Why did you want to fire me? You had no idea what I was hired to do.”
“Doesn’t matter what you were hired to do. I don’t like consultants.”
She took one look at the snarl curling his upper lip and felt a knot form in her chest. “Why not?”
His gaze blazed an imaginary hole into the refrigerator door. “You don’t need to know.”
This just keeps getting better and better. Jaye searched for Nick Blake’s contact information on her phone. Drat, she only had his office number. “Could you give me Nick’s cell? I’ll ask him to find a different place for me to stay.”
“No, I’ll call him. This is our fault. I’ll make things right.” Mitch tossed his knit hat onto the kitchen table. Ultra-short blond hair covered his head, the buzz cut similar to what an implacable drill sergeant might sport. Reaching behind his neck, he pulled the red sweatshirt over his head and tossed the fleece over a chair. Blake Glassware’s square lettering spanned the back of his red t-shirt.
Jaye’s jaw went slack. A whole sentence could fit between his broad shoulders. Living within touching distance of that impressive back would tempt her to do things she shouldn’t do, like flirt with a burly glassblower . Her stomach performed a ticklish somersault, her body’s way of saying “Yay, I want that!”
He lifted a phone out of his pocket. “We’ve got two women who work at the factory, but they have big families and full houses. I doubt they could give you a room.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.” Her gaze jumped to the clock hanging above an old black stove. The second hand wavered above the faded three before continuing the slow journey around the face. Nine-thirty. She’d been up since five in the morning. What she wouldn’t give to collapse onto a soft bed.
If she were a guy, she could crash in Mitch’s extra bedroom. Then again, everything would be simpler if she’d been born the son her parents so desperately wanted.
Darting away from that dangerous topic, she looked around the kitchen. The scuffed oak cabinets were outdated but the white counters were clean. Now that she’d found one of the shingled houses in Shinglehouse, she didn’t want to leave. Her overbearing father and philandering ex-boyfriend would never find her tucked away in Mitchell Blake’s brick ranch.
“My father isn’t answering.” Mitch lowered the phone to the table. “I’ll try again in five minutes.”
“Do most short-term employees stay with you?”
“Yeah. I’m the only one who has the room.”
“Ah, you’re the default host.”
“Mm.” He nudged his phone away from the table’s edge.
Not once did his gaze drop to her mouth, breasts, or hips in male speculation. Despite their rocky start, Mitch treated her with unwavering respect. Jaye knew, with surprising certainty, she would be safe here. The only thing stopping her from staying was the same thing always complicating her life—whether or not a man wanted her around. “I lived in a coed dorm in college.” She clasped her hands behind her back in an attempt to look casual. “Living with you wouldn’t be any different.”
His gaze jerked to hers. “What did you say?”
“You were willing to let an unfamiliar guy stay for a month.” She opened her hands and shrugged. “Why not me?”
Mitch looked at the remarkable creature standing in his kitchen and wondered if he’d heard right. She wanted to stay?
Her chocolate brown gaze brushed down his chest, darted to his abdomen, and skidded to a stop on his belt buckle. A crimson stain crept into the pretty hollows of her cheeks.
Mitch couldn’t remember the last time a woman blushed around him. His voice blasted like gunfire out of his throat. “You can’t stay.”
“Why not?”
Her wide eyes looked as big as the hole in his heart. He gripped the back of a chair, knocked off balance by the undeniable surge of attraction clenching his insides. “I was willing to room with a guy. Not you.”
“Because I’m a woman?”
“Right. This is the last place you should be.” Lord, the luscious curve of her bottom lip would test a monk’s virtue.
Jaye crossed her arms and studied him like she was deciding which of his weaknesses to pick apart first.
Mitch felt like he was watching a bunny getting ready to bite a grizzly bear. He pressed the heel of a hand against his forehead to fight off a headache. She belonged in a swanky metropolitan hotel—not a