She waited for him to drop a lascivious one liner or come on to her, but her repairman did neither. Instead, he turned to the big machine and started fiddling with it. Which was fine by her. While he was occupied, she was more than happy to take the time to study the way the fabric of his worn jeans clung to his firm ass, the way his muscles flexed with every movement. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, and her fingers itched to give up this pretense and sink into the rough silk.