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hiring you,” she answered.
    She constantly struggled to recapture the wits he wiped away
simply by being in the same room. She prided herself on being an independent,
intelligent woman, but two minutes in his presence always reduced her to a
quivering mass of goo. Damn if she didn’t want him, and she was usually not the
type of girl to deny herself her pleasures. However, in Wes’ case, giving in
would be the very worst thing she could do, and for reasons she hadn’t shared
with him yesterday.
    Undeterred, Wes opened up his toolbox and started digging
through his tools. “Cheryl mentioned a drawer that’s sticking and a clogged
drain here in the kitchen, but it sounds like I’d better tackle the restrooms
first.”
    “Stop ignoring me as if I’m not speaking. I’m not hiring
you.”
    “Why not?”
    His question caught her off guard. She knew Wes was a
jack-of-all-trades and that he was perfectly capable of doing most of the small
jobs she needed taken care of. Since he’d resigned from the DEA, he was looking
for work. Rick had been his partner on the force, and he’d managed to forge his
new career by opening up a small bike shop.
    “I don’t have a lot of extra money to hire someone on.” It
was a lie, but she grasped it with both hands.
    “You advertised for the position.”
    She blew out an exasperated breath. “Yeah, well, I mean it
would only be part time.”
    “I didn’t plan on setting up office hours or draining your
accounts, pixie,” he said.
    Jill picked up the phonebook and glanced at the list of
plumbers. She’d exhausted her options and she knew it. Madison had two
full-time plumbers and at this moment, one of them was at a convention in Vegas
and the other had pneumonia. It would cost a fortune to pay one to come out
from Harrisburg for an emergency call. With the distance between Madison and
its larger neighboring city, the plumber still wouldn’t make it here in time
for her to open for lunch.
    “Fine. You can fix the toilets.”
    Wes laughed. “What an honor.”
    “But that’s it. You’re not going to be my handyman.”
    Wes shook his head and walked closer. She fought the urge to
take a step back, refusing to let him intimidate her as he had yesterday. She’d
had time to batten down her hatches and prepare herself for the onslaught.
    “I’ll fix your toilets, but only on two conditions.”
    “What conditions?”
    “One, you hire me in this position for good, and two, you
agree to my wages.”
    She was silent as she tried to find a way out of her
predicament. Surely there was some way she could get the repairs done without
selling her soul to the devil. She racked her brain but came up with nothing.
    Her love for the diner won out. She needed help and, God
help her, Wes Robson appeared to be the only man in town available to fulfill
her needs. As soon as the word needs crossed her mind, a flush heated
her cheeks. She had some definite needs she could envision Wes fulfilling. Of
course, Wes noticed her blush immediately and grinned.
    Before he could say anything, she asked, “How much do you
want?”
    “Are you hiring me?”
    “Yes,” she snapped. “I’m hiring you. How much do you charge
an hour?”
    “I don’t come cheap,” he teased her.
    She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “How much,
Wes?”
    “For every hour of work I do around the diner, you agree to
spend one hour alone with me.”
    Her eyes snapped open. This was bad. Very, very bad. “I’d
rather pay you money.”
    “No. I don’t want money from you, pixie.”
    She placed her hands on her hips. “If you think I’m going to
trade sexual favors for—”
    “I didn’t say sex. I said an hour alone with me.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Dating, of course. Going out for drinks, dancing. Hell, we
could rent a movie and watch it in your apartment for all I care. And if you
feel so inclined as to have sex with me, that would be cool too.” His eyes were
dancing, and she knew he was enjoying