He told himself it was ridiculous to be attracted to somebody closer to Brody’s age than his own—and with a baby, no less—but it didn’t stop the tightness that had captured his chest. “Um, Drew?” He stopped. Half afraid she was about to say something about their attraction—maybe even tell him she didn’t want her old boss hitting on her—he faced her. “We still need supplies.” She winced. “I brought my equipment from home, but no real cleaning supplies. To make the bathrooms usable I think we need some disinfectant cleanser.” She caught his gaze. “I also noticed there are no sheets or towels or pillows. No laundry detergent, dishwashing detergent, dishes or silverware. Or even basic pots and pans. You could also probably use a coffee-maker—” Relieved that she was focusing on the job, Drew reached for his wallet. “And food?” “And food.” “Okay.” He pulled out several hundred-dollar bills. “Can you take care of getting all of that?” “I don’t think we have a choice.”
