Page 3 of Developing Hearts (Pine Point Fixer-Uppers #5)

Chapter three

Mason

What in the ever-loving hell is wrong with me? Mason took a second sip of coffee—for being made at home, it was frigging good—then a third.

He knew precisely what was wrong with him, and it was sitting across the table from him and had made him frigging good coffee in the first place.

David looked like a model, and not in the way that every generic frat boy thought he looked like a model.

David was tall and willowy, but not skinny.

The way his biceps flexed proved that, and Mason was more than a little obsessed with that pink shawl he’d swept in there wearing.

He must have come from Keith Twine’s side of the family, so likely of Chinese descent.

His hair was long and draped over his shoulders, and the cut of his neckline revealed more of his chest than was maybe socially acceptable.

Mason would not spend any of his time complaining about seeing too much of David’s skin, though.

Not in a thousand years.

Once he felt like he’d gotten himself back under control—though he didn’t miss Bunny’s pointed stare or Aras’s sharp smirk, both clearly onto him—he tried again with a nod to Vince and the camera crew. “So, tell us about the job. What exactly’s going on that made you decide it needed our touch?”

David sighed. “Well, it’s a little bit of everything. There’s a great view that I’m not taking advantage of. There’s a storage room that I literally can’t set foot in without a walking stick for my own safety. The kitchen and one of the bathrooms are unfinished.”

“Stop.” Mason held up his hand, biting back his annoyance and pasting on a big smile. “May want to lead with the whole ‘two rooms in my house aren’t even usable rooms’ thing next time.”

David shrugged. “I order takeout and shower in the master suite. I guess it’s bad, but it’s my own damn fault.

” He leaned forward. “I was one-hundred percent confident I could demo and tile both of those rooms over Labor Day weekend two years ago…and I was wrong. Plus I don’t even like the tiles I picked out anymore. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

Mason was beginning to get a better idea of the real problem, but kept on prodding all the same. “Any other home renovations you undertook?”

“Tons. But don’t get the idea that I’m responsible for all of the ills up there. Just most of them. I did hire contractors to come in and redo the floors. Terrible. Also brought in a crew to redo my master bathroom and that barely functions.”

That apparently broke Robinson, who snorted and leaned around so he could look David in the eye. “Okay, pause. You’re acting like there’s no real problem, but so far, both bathrooms, the kitchen, and the floors are bad?”

“People have it much worse than I do.” David tossed his hands up.

“I didn’t think I’d actually get picked for this.

I just got drunk one night and decided that I’d let the studio decide if they wanted to come do this.

Don’t self-reject and all that good stuff.

” He gestured vaguely around himself. “There’s people out there who don’t have four walls, a roof, and an espresso machine. Who am I to complain?”

“The client.” Mason couldn’t be too mad at him.

After all, they’d just been talking about how strange the situation was down in the parking garage.

But so far, it seemed like David did need some help with his condo.

“Just because someone else has it worse than you doesn’t mean you need to pretend you’ve got a perfect thing going on.

” He jabbed his finger on the tabletop. “We’re all here right now to help you, so focus on that. ”

David looked at him for a long moment, in a way that churned Mason’s belly.

Then he blinked and nodded. “Everyone please at least have the coffee. I would feel even more guilty if this all went to waste.” When he sat back, arms folded, it became apparent that this conversation wasn’t going to continue until people started to drink.

So Mason waved them to get on with things.

He had gone to the trouble of making lattes for them all.

It was…a little annoying. Mason could find this guy stunning and still find him annoying.

But it was also hard to get too mad at a guy who was being annoying because he was worried that their resources could go somewhere more deserving.

Finally, David continued on, once enough of them had grabbed coffees to apparently assuage his guilt.

“Look, I got this place for a steal. Didn’t exactly…

a little embarrassing to admit. I may have agreed to buy the place sight-unseen.

But it was, like, fifty percent below anything else in the area, and I figured I could fix it up slowly.

And I have.” He tossed his head back dramatically.

“The slowly part more than the fixing it up part, mind you.”

Mason caught himself staring at David’s outstretched neck, the way his Adam’s apple pressed out so prominently, the tendons running down either side that led down—

“I think we might need to actually, I don’t know, see this place?” Ozzy spread his hands in front of him as if offering up the too-obvious point for anyone who wanted to take it. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I feel like we’re not going to get the lay of the land from talking about it.”

Mason pulled himself back into professionalism and made a promise to himself: he wouldn’t get distracted the rest of the day.

Though if David kept wearing that top, it was going to be a hard promise to keep.