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  But when he was standing out there shivering, covered in goose bumps, but looking at her with those eyes, she’d felt just like she did before he kissed her as if he’d been waiting his entire life to kiss her and she hadn’t wanted to leave.

  So here she was, hiding in her bedroom to avoid the awkward sleepy morning moments like who got the bathroom and dancing around each other in the kitchen. Sure, this was going to go well.

  After she showered, Darcy turned the toaster setting down slightly and made herself an English muffin and a coffee. He’d washed his mug and the knife, along with the blender, so there were no clues as to what he’d been mixing. Maybe some kind of weird protein drink or something, which would explain the abs.

  No thinking about his abs, she reminded herself as she washed her few dishes and set them next to his to dry. Then, dressed in jeans and a Jasper’s Bar & Grille polo shirt with her hair in a ponytail, and feeling a little more like her work self, she went down to face the day.

  Because she was only going outside long enough to get down the stairs and in the back door, the key to which she’d found labeled and sitting on the counter, she skipped putting on her coat. She arrived for her first official day on the job half-frozen and cursing the unexpected windchill.

  What seemed like acres of stainless steel greeted her. She wasn’t a cook and didn’t know a lot about the different equipment, but it seemed as if Kevin and Jake had spared no expense when it came to outfitting the kitchen. What really mattered to her was on the other side of the double swinging doors.

  Of course, the first thing she saw when she pushed through them was Jake. He was standing in the middle of the dining room, scowling down at something on the floor. When he heard the swish of the doors, he looked up and gestured her over.

  “Take my hand,” he said when she reached him.

  “I’m guessing you haven’t read the Jasper’s sexual harassment policy.”

  “What?” Clearly distracted and annoyed, he held out his hand. “No. Just let me hold on to you and I want you to walk in front of me.”

  “Fine.” She grasped his hand and crossed in front of him.

  On the second step, her foot shot out from under her and only Jake’s grip kept her from landing on her ass on the floor, or maybe even smacking the back of her head.

  “I knew it,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound happy to be proven right about whatever he was talking about. “I crushed some ice this morning and put a few piles around the floor to melt. They told me this flooring wouldn’t be slippery when it’s wet.”

  “They lied.”

  “In my boots, it’s fine. And in snowmobile boots, it’ll be fine. But when the snow starts melting off those boots, the servers wearing sneakers like yours will be going down like bowling pins.”

  Darcy knew nothing about flooring and not much more about snowmobiling. “Do they make some kind of absorbent mats we could put under the tables? Maybe attractive ones that look like throw rugs?”

  “Maybe we could lay down braided rugs. Homey feel and they’re absorbent.”

  “And who’s going to deal with a pile of sopping-wet, heavy rugs every night at closing? It won’t be the wait staff. And they’d never dry completely.”

  “Good point. I’m going to have to research options. The amount of snow that might get tracked in isn’t something I’ve ever had to factor into a restaurant plan before. Having a good mat inside the front door’s always important, but snow melting off sledding boots while people eat is a new challenge.”

  Darcy was trying to pay attention to what he was saying, but somewhere around researching blah, blah, blah, she realized their fingers were still laced together. His hand was strong and warm and there was something incredibly comforting about the feel of it cradling hers. In fact, when she’d dreamt of him a few weeks back, it hadn’t been the sex her subconscious had returned to. She’d dreamed of walking down the sidewalk with him, hand in hand.

  “I need to call Peterson,” Jake said. She knew Derek Peterson, of Peterson Construction, was handling the bulk of the remodeling and handling the various subcontractors.

  His hand slid free of hers so easily as he walked away, she wondered if he was even aware they’d been linked. As he disappeared through the swinging doors, Darcy sighed and tried to shake it off. She had work to do, starting with exploring the waitress station setup and seeing how many different ways she was going to make him change it.

  * * *

  “FOR THE THIRD TIME, Jake, big-ass is not a cut of steak.”

  He grinned at her over the slightly burned, formerly frozen pizza sitting on the table between them. It was a very late dinner, so he’d gone for easy. “Sure it is. What kind of steak does a man want? A big-ass steak, that’s what kind.”

  “We’re not putting big-ass steak on the menu.”

  “Bet you a hundred it would be our top seller.”

  When she rolled her eyes and went back to sawing through the pizza crust, he laughed at her, but only on the inside. She was in a touchy mood and it was probably best she didn’t know how much he enjoyed pushing her buttons. It was payback for the list of things wrong with the front end of the restaurant she’d given him. Three full sheets from the legal pad she’d filched from his office. She even wanted the commercial coffee brewing station moved—claimed it was too close to the pass-through window and would cause traffic jams—which meant contacting the electrician about circuits.

  “We’ve been at this an hour and all we have is the Jasper Burger,” she said. It was a crowd favorite at the Bar & Grille, so they’d put it on the menu and hope word of mouth spread that far north.

  “And a big-ass steak.”

  “What about a pasta dish?”

  He chewed and swallowed another bite of cheese-and-sauce-covered cardboard, chasing it with a swallow of beer. Screw the pub’s menu. They needed to come up with a better meal plan for themselves. “I’m iffy on pasta.”

  “Right, because men like big-ass steaks cooked so rare a good vet could save them.” She sounded on the verge of stabbing him with her fork, so he bit back the grin. “You’re too focused on the sledders. This area’s hurting for dining options, as we know since we’re eating frozen pizza, so some good, reasonably priced family choices will draw in the locals and help keep the place going year-round. The big-ass steak crowd may bring in the gravy, but it’s the spaghetti and meatballs and all-you-can-eat fish fry crowd that’s the bread and butter.”

  “If the menu’s too scattered, we’ll go broke keeping all the ingredients on hand.”

  “True.” She pushed her paper plate away and pulled her legal pad—which matched his—in front of her.

  “How about you make a list of things you’d like to see and I’ll do the same and we’ll see where they cross over and go from there? We’ve both got the Jasper Burger and Jasper’s Big-Ass Steak.”

  “Steak cut yet to be determined,” she said firmly.

  He made a few notes on his paper. She was right about the fact that he’d been overly focused on attracting the sledders and maybe not enough on building a community restaurant. The residential area was so scattered he wasn’t sure they could sustain a steady business all year long, so his idea was to make as much money as possible during the snowy months and cut down to a skeleton menu and crew during the off-season. But maybe people would be willing to make the drive for a good, affordable night out.

  Mostly, though, he watched Darcy making her list. She was cute when she was lost in thought. He could do without the constant tapping of her pen against the paper, but the way she bit at her bottom lip made him want to nibble at that spot, and with her free hand she twirled curls into bits of her ponytail.

  She hadn’t said anything earlier, when he’d forgotten to let go of her hand after the slippery floor experiment. She hadn’t pulled away or commented on the fact, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. To him, it just felt natural to hold her hand. But he couldn’t take for granted she felt the same because th