She laughed. “What else?”
“Chef.”
“Don’t like kitchens?”
“I like them-as long as my being in one doesn’t actually involve any cooking.”
“You can’t cook?”
“I can make coffee. Does that count?”
“What do you eat?”
“I live in Manhattan. No one cooks in Manhattan. Why cook when there’re two dozen take-out places within two blocks?”
“So you can’t even slap together a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich?”
“Well, yeah, I can do that. I can also pour milk on cereal, pop a bagel in the toaster, open a jar of salsa and a bag of chips, and mix a perfect martini.”
“And you say you can’t cook?” she asked, her voice and expression filled with exaggerated shock. “What other career options have you decided against?”
“Well, I considered being a congressman-but there’s all that politics and stuff.”
“Hmm. Definitely a drawback. How about a rocket scientist?”
“Nah. All that math and stuff.”
“Brain surgeon?”
“All that blood and stuff.”
“Farmer?”
“All those cows and stuff.”
“I’m beginning to see a pattern here. So opening the tiki bar in Hawaii is really a possibility?”
“Can’t say I’ve ruled it out. The doctor said low stress and it doesn’t get more low stress than hanging at the beach, mixing pina coladas. And you can’t beat the weather.”
“What about photography? You do very well with lingerie-wearing customers.”
“I don’t think I can top the photos I took of you, so I’m going to rest on my laurels.”
“If you get tired of mixing cocktails, what about using your Wall Street experience and being a financial planner?”
“I’ve thought about it, but after being away from all that for the past few months, I’m just not missing it. I like keeping on top of my own portfolio, but I think I’d rather go for a swim in a completely different type of pool.” They turned the corner onto Mallory’s quiet street. “Actually, an idea’s been tugging at me for the past month or so.”
“Besides the Hawaiian tiki bar?”
“Yes. Remember how I told you that I’d finished Nick’s basement for him?”
“Yes.”
“I really enjoyed doing that, and not just because it was for a friend. It gave me a sense of accomplishment and calm that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Sort of got me thinking about starting my own contracting business. Home repairs, adding dormers, finishing basements, updating kitchens and baths-that sort of thing. Not only do I like that type of work, but it’s something I could do wherever I decide to live.”
She nodded slowly, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind. “I can only speak for here, but with so many older homes on Long Island, there’s a great demand for that sort of work. If you decide that’s what you want to do in this area, let me know. Buyers and sellers constantly ask me to recommend contractors and I’d be happy to pass your name to them. You wouldn’t lack for customers, and word of mouth spreads quickly. I recommended a friend’s husband who’s a roofer to one person in my mother’s neighborhood, and from that job he’s gotten half a dozen more.”
He looked at her and smiled. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’re welcome.” She removed her hand from his stomach and he immediately missed the feel of her touching him. The easy intimacy of her caress. Reaching out, he snagged her wrist and set her hand right back where it had been. Ah. Much better.
Her expression turned serious, and she said, “I just thought of something else you might want to consider.”
“Like speeding up this walk so I can get you naked again?”
She laughed. “I think if I looked up
“It has nothing to do with vitamins and everything to do with you.” He pulled her to a stop and kissed her. He’d meant it to be a quick, playful kiss, but it instantly turned into a deep, lush, tongue-mating exchange that made even his lungs feels hot-like he was breathing in steam.
When he lifted his head, he looked into her eyes that resembled glazed chocolate and for the second time in minutes felt like a drowning man.
“Whew,” she said, resting her forehead against his chin. “If I’d had any idea stockbrokers could kiss like that, I definitely would have considered investing in the market. And I sure as heck wouldn’t have been wasting my time with lawyers.”
He knew she was kidding, but the thought of her kissing some other stockbroker cramped his insides with an unpleasant sensation he recognized all too well as jealousy. And as for her dirtbag lawyer ex, the thought of that cheating creep so much as touching her made him want to break something-like the cheating creep’s face. Damn, if someone like Mallory was his, he’d never touch another woman-
He squeezed his eyes shut to sever the thought.
Oh, boy.
Yet the confusing thing was that the thought of Mallory being his didn’t even remotely fill him with the sort of this-could-royally-screw-up-my-plans panic it should. No, instead it suffused him with a sort of warm, tingly glow. A deep yearning unlike anything he could ever recall feeling before. And the fact that that warm, tingly, glowy yearning didn’t fill him with panic…
A low groan escaped him.
“You okay?” she asked, and he felt her lean back.
He opened his eyes. One look at her irrevocably confirmed that he had one foot dangling over the edge and the other precariously balanced on a banana peel. Now he just needed to decide what the hell he planned to do about that.
“I’m great,” he said. He dropped a quick kiss on her nose, then started walking again, keeping his arm around her. “But I’ll be better once I have you naked again.” Oh, yeah, good plan. ’Cause having her naked really helped his decision-making processes.
“You know, before you whiplashed my brain cells into next week with that kiss,” she said, “I’d mentioned that I’d thought of another career option you might want to consider.”
“What’s that?”
“Buying and reselling fixer-uppers. Houses that need substantial repairs, not just new carpeting and a coat of paint. Or in some cases, houses whose interiors-mostly the kitchens and bathrooms-are just way outdated. I’ve sold many a house that would have gone for tens of thousands of dollars more if they’d been in good condition or updated. Someone who could do those sorts of repairs could buy the house, fix it up for a fraction of the cost of hiring contractors, then resell it at a profit.”
He mulled over the idea as they walked along. “Interesting. What sort of profit margin are you talking about?”
“On Long Island-just off the top of my head, I’d say that a twenty-to twenty-five-thousand-dollar investment in a new kitchen and bathrooms would translate into a minimum forty-thousand-dollar increase in the resale value of the home.”
His brows raised. “Not a bad return. Have you ever considered buying one of these properties yourself and reselling it?”
