by Penny Wylder
The man raises to his feet and flips his glasses up onto his forehead so I can see his whole face.
Dropping my hand, I stand in shock. I can't breathe. My lungs hurt as they beg for air, but I can't give them what they want.
“Kent?” I ask, squinting my eyes as if they're not working right.
“Perri,” he says smoothly with a big grin. “Glad to see you finally made it.” His smile grows, it's coy, almost brazen with the amount of sarcasm he put in his tone. “Beautiful place you guys got here.” He looks back over his shoulder at the water, then back at me. “I've had quite some time to enjoy this view by myself.”
It's a dig at me being late, and I'm concerned immediately.
This isn't right. Why the hell is he here?
“What are you doing here? Is there electrical work or something that needs to get done before the new tenant arrives?”
Standing in front of me is Kent Hayes, my father's business associate. In fact, he’s the other half of Dean and Hayes Electric, the company that gave my father the capitol to buy all these properties that I’d like to manage one day. I've known him for years, but standing in front of him right now, I feel like I’m seeing him again for the first time. Were his eye always this blue? His chest, cut like marble, was that always hiding under his button up shirts? Not to mention his perfectly tanned abs that look like they were carved from granite.
Kent's mouth peels up higher as he tilts his head into his shoulder. He’s enjoying my shock. The sun catches his eyes perfectly and they sparkle like the ocean. I'm left in this state of confusion and desire, my panties still wet from my fantasy, and my heart beating with anxiety.
What the hell is going on? Why is he here?
“New tenant,” he says, pointing to his chest. Pausing for a moment, his lids lower as he strokes his bottom lip. “Your dad didn't tell you?” he asks, brows dipping into the bridge of his nose. “I am the new tenant, Perri.”
His voice trails off as my brain tries to process what he just said. It can't be right. Why wouldn’t he tell me it would be Kent here? Is Kent just here to test me, to report my every misstep to my father?
Would he do that to me?
Does my dad really hate me? Is that what this is?
Could he really not trust me this much?
2
Perri
His smile, I want to slap it off his face, but I also want to feel his lips on my skin.
I've never felt this angry or this turned on in my life. That smile on his face, the way his lips contort and twist, it's working its way down my body, making my heart pound. My stomach flutters and buzzes, my nipples turn hard, and my pussy drips.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Forcing the feeling away, I ignore my body. Now is not the time for me to let it run wild. Yes, Kent is sexy and my body is screaming out a four alarm fire like it never has before, but here I'm responsible for this house, not for ogling this godlike man in front of me.
I'd be lying if I didn't say I was angry that my father did this to me. I know he put him here for a reason, and it's not for eye candy. Why exactly? I can’t put my finger on that just yet.
“What do you mean you're the new tenant? That's not right, it can't be right.” Pulling out my phone, I take a step back. “This is crazy.”
“What are you doing?” he asks as I put my phone to my ear.
“I'm calling my father. This is bullshit.” Pressing the phone tight against my ear, I talk out loud. “What did he do, send you to keep an eye on me? Are you his personal mole? This is ridiculous. When is he going to stop treating me like I'm a damn child? And he sends you? Of all people, you're the one here to do his dirty work—it's bullshit.”
All I'm seeing is red. My father doesn't trust me at all. If he had even a sliver of trust in me, Kent wouldn't be here. This is his safety net, someone who won't ruin his reputation in case I mess up. That’s it. Dad sent Kent here to be my training wheels. I'm not too stupid to see this for what it really is. It's easy bait. Someone who will be honest with my father, and not afraid to speak his mind.
He's my father's songbird. Simple as that. Of course this whole situation was too good to be true. I should have seen it from the second my father said yes to me. I’d been asking for this chance for so long, it never occurred to me to question why he suddenly had a change of heart. Because Kent isn't a real tenant at all. There's no threat to my father this way.
Why am I so surprised?
Did I expect anything less from my dad?
Of course he's setting me up. He already anticipates my utter failure
“Perri, hang up,” Kent says, closing the gap between us, and bouncing his hands softly in the air, trying to calm me down. “That's not why I'm here. I'm not moonlighting as some spy.”
My father's answering machine picks up, so I end the call, and steady my stare. I don't trust him.
“Yeah, okay. You expect me to believe that?” Huffing under my breath, I roll my eyes and move my hands wildly as I talk. “You're going to tell me that my father didn't place you here to keep an eye on me? It's bullshit, Kent. Do I look that stupid?”
He rakes his hand through his hair and looks off at the water. “You see that view?” he asks, not waiting for me to answer as he keeps talking. “I'm newly single, and I needed a place to stay for a bit until I get on my feet, and your dad offered me this place to help me out. I'd be stupid to say no.”
I desperately want to believe him. My brain is playing a game of tug of war, pulling back and forth, rationalizing and refusing to accept his explanation at the same time.
His eyes soften, his lips fold into a pout, and my heart hammers inside my chest. There's a twinkle in his eyes, a small spark that hits me right in the gut. I feel for him, but I can't let my emotions get the best of me.
If it's as simple as what he says, then why didn't my father mention Kent is the tenant? If my dad really is helping out Kent, why wouldn’t he have mentioned that from the beginning?
It doesn't add up.
Inhaling a slow breath, I thin my lips. “Seriously, Kent, just tell me the truth. Why are you really here?”
“I am telling you the truth, Perri. I need this, just as much as you need this. I know you want to prove yourself to your father. I've seen the way you try to sell yourself to him every time a new opportunity comes up in one of his properties. But the truth is I really needed a fresh start and a place to stay for a while and get my head on straight. I'm not here as your enemy, I promise.”
Pursing my lips, I fold my arms under each other and stare up at him. I want to trust him. I just don't. He's my father's partner, that's all I need to see through him. He isn't on my side, not one bit.
But this could also work in my favor. If I do everything I'm supposed to, if I go above and beyond and Kent loves this house, he'll only be able to go back and tell my father how professional I was and then, I gain my father’s approval .
Let's prove Dad wrong. This is my chance.
“Okay,” I say coldly, nodding my head. “I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now. I don't really have a choice in the matter anyway, do I?” Dropping my arms to my sides, I lift up on my toes and fall back down to flat feet. “So, I guess we can go inside and check the place out.”
“I peeked in the windows when I first got here. He did it all up, huh? With furniture and everything.”
“Yeah, he renovated the kitchen, had the wood floors refinished, fresh paint,” I say as we walk side by side, and I find the key. “It's like a brand new house.”
My eyes dart to his face, and I'm trying so hard to keep them there, right where they should be. But they shift around his body, down his chest, over his arms, across his abs. I can feel my body tingling, the sensation soft and foreign.
Kent is, and has been, hard to not stare at since he and my father began working together. His big blue eyes, his thick, full, peppered hair, with a chiseled jaw, and perfect kissable lips.
He's a
lways looked incredible in his suits, tailored to fit him perfectly. A few times I even had to force myself to stop staring at him.
And now the attraction I feel toward him is even stronger. I'm standing next to him while he's half naked, with salty wind blowing his hair around, and his skin glowing bronze from the sun.
He's sexy as hell, and my entire body is reacting, the fire in my core has ignited, and I'm not sure I can put it out. Swallowing hard, I avert my eyes to the ground.
“Wow, he went all out,” Kent says.
“He really did on this property. I think this is the first house he put this much work in to out of all the others.” Unlocking the door, I push it open, and hold out my arm for Kent to go in first.
He shakes his head no, and grips the outside of the door. “Nope, ladies first,” he says.
Stepping into the living room, I turn and take a few steps backwards. “Welcome to your home away from home.” Spinning back around, I take a moment to check it out myself.
When a new property is being renovated, my father never lets me near it. He always says I get in the way, or I'll distract the workers because I ask too many questions.
According to him, all I need are bullet points to do this job. I don't need to be hands on. Hell, I don’t even need to think
I have my cheat sheet from dad. A single piece of paper with everything I need to know about this house. With this paper, and this paper alone, Dad told me, I have everything I need to make sure the tenant is happy and I can do this job the way it ought to be done.
“I think this will do,” Kent says as he walks past the island that separates the kitchen from the living room. He raps his knuckles on it as a sign of approval. “Actually, I can probably get used to this pretty quickly.” He chuckles jokingly as he explores the space.
He pulls back the curtains on the sliding doors in the kitchen, and stands in front with his hands on the back of his head. “Wow.” That’s the only word he says as he stares out at the water, a beautiful sparkling blue expanse that goes on forever.
My heart pounds in my chest as his biceps flex and his muscles tighten in a rippling wave down his back. His eyes are set on the ocean, and my eyes are on his ass. Sucking in a quick gulp of air, I dart my eyes away quickly as he twists back to face me.
“I should probably bring in my stuff. Settle in.”
“Let me help,” I say, taking a step to follow him outside.
“No, it's all right. I’ve got it. Just relax. Enjoy the view, maybe jot down the WIFI password for me on that notepad over there?” He nudges his head toward the small table against the wall.
Kent walks out the door, and I take the opportunity to look over the house. It's a one bedroom bungalow, perfect for a single guy like Kent. The beach is a stone’s throw away, there's an in-ground pool in the spacious backyard, and the view goes on forever with the miles of ocean. It really is perfect.
As I look around the room, I realize that whoever my father brought in to decorate did a terrible job. The way the furniture is placed breaks up the flow of the house, making it sort of an obstacle course. It doesn't work. The couch is pushed up against the wall, the kitchen table is stuck off in a nook away from the amazing view. There's a small table blocking one of the sliding glass doors, too. The only way you get any real view of the ocean from inside the house is if you're standing right in front of the doors.
Why did they set it up like this?
It doesn't make any sense.
Staring at the furniture, I can see in my head a way to really create that flow, to give you a seamless view of the water no matter where you are.
Grabbing the edge of the table, I start to pull it across the room. The legs drag, creating a loud noise. Stopping in the middle of the room, I move over to the couch and push it aside. Rearranging the furniture is going to make this place so much better.
I'm lost in design, carrying chairs, dragging tables, adjusting throw rugs. I want this place to feel open and airy. Most of all, wherever you sit in the living spaces, you should be able to see the amazing view. That’s why he bought this place, after all.
“What are you doing?” Kent asks as he drops a suitcase and a backpack on the floor.
“I'm fixing this place for you,” I say matter of fact. Taking a step back to the front door, I look out at the space. “I just need to move this couch over here a little more, and you'll have a view of the ocean no matter where you sit.”
Kent leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. “So, you figured this all out in the ten minutes I was outside?”
“Yeah, basically. Why?”
Shrugging, his mouth raises into a partial grin. “It's impressive.”
“Thanks.” I'm a little uncertain about what he means exactly, but it's a compliment. I don't get many compliments that are genuine, so I'll take it.
“You don't agree?” he asks, moving across the room.
I watch him as he walks. His hard chest more than I can stand at the moment. I can't take both at the same time, a compliment and his sexy body. It's too much. My heart pitter-patters and my skin begins to heat up.
He leans over, resting open hands on the arm of the couch. Lifting his head, his eyes zero in on mine, and I'm suddenly at a loss for the words.
Those eyes. . . They're so blue. Cobalt in color, bright as the ocean, and piercing enough to send chills down my spine.
Glancing up at the ceiling, I fumble with my hands in front of my waist. “I don't know, I guess I never thought about designing or decorating as a talent.”
“Well, you should, you're good at it.” His eyes drift down my body, devouring every curve along the way. Biting down on his bottom lip, he lets his gaze slowly lick back up.
Is he flirting with me?
Pushing the couch for me, he centers it with the throw rug I’d rearranged, so it faces the double sliding doors. “Here?”
I'm lost for a second, unable to latch on to any thoughts or words. He definitely just flirted with me. Right?
“Uh, yeah, that's perfect,” I finally get out.
“It really is.” But Kent isn't looking at the ocean, or the furniture, or the paintings on the walls. He's looking at me.
My belly erupts with a million tornadoes, all of them turning my stomach upside down. The hair on my arms bristles, sending tingles up my arms and across my chest.
“I uh, I should go,” I say quickly, taking a few steps toward the door. “I'll let you get settled, and if you need anything, I put my number on the notepad for you.”
“Where are you staying?” he asks. “You're not heading home from here are you? It's a two hour drive.”
“Oh, no, I'm staying in another rental my dad has. It's the condo up on River Street.” I'm still walking backwards, trying to escape whatever is happening to my body.
This is Kent. My father's friend, his business partner. Everything that is happening to me is wrong. He's twice my age, he's too close to my family to have these feelings, he's off limits. . .
Right?
Kent starts to move toward me, but all I really want to do is to leave. The closer he gets, the dirtier the thoughts are that run through my head. Thoughts that shouldn't be here. Thoughts that shouldn't be for him.
“So we’re all set,” I say, giving him a light wave. “I'll see you later, enjoy your night. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“I will.” His tone is smooth, confident. “Same goes for you, too.” He gives me a light wink, and a half smile.
Turning, I swiftly walk to my car and start the engine before I even have my door closed all the way.
These feelings, these thoughts, they're freaking me out. The drive to the condo is only ten minutes, but it feels like an eternity as confused thoughts race through my mind. Once I arrive at my temporary home, I'm happy to shut the door behind me. I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding in.
I can still feel his eyes on my body. Those bright, blue, incredible eyes that si
zzle on my skin. Dropping onto the couch, I lay my head back and close my eyes. But he's still there. I can't escape Kent.
His smile, his lips, the sharp angles of his jaw. The way his chest flexed as he moved, and his arms thickened with hard muscles. Even his salt and pepper hair, and his five o'clock shadow turn me on.
I've always had a thing for older men. But this isn't fair, he's my father's partner and friend. The taboo feeling of it being wrong is hard to ignore, but my body is resisting the rational.
My vag is pulsing, my nipples are beading, all because this man is in my head. “All right,” I say out loud, opening my eyes wide and standing up. “I need a glass of wine.”
Grabbing a bottle out of the rack next to the stove, I fill a glass, and head back to the couch. My phone pings, and I lift it off the table. Opening the screen, I see a message from a number I don't recognize.
'Did you make it home okay?'
It's Kent.
My thumb hovers over the buttons, and a small smile teases my lips. 'Yeah, I'm home.'
'Good, I'm enjoying the view from the couch. You really improved the place.'
My smile broadens, pleased that he's thinking about me. There's a thrill with this thought, knowing I'm on his mind, that he's sitting on the couch and I'm in his head.
'I'm glad you like it.' I text back. My heart thuds faster, and my veins ignite as I see the small circles rotating on my screen.
He's writing back, and the anticipation is making me giddy. Curling my feet up, I tuck them under each other, and snuggle deeper into the couch. I'm staring at the screen, anxiously waiting to see what he writes next.
'Will I see you tomorrow?'
'Yes, I'll be around.'
'It's a date then.'
'No, not a date. I have work to do.' Luckily he can’t see the smile on my face which belies that I am not thinking about work. I love the idea of a date, but obviously it isn't happening.
'Right, that's what I said. A date.'
Grinning, I fire back. ‘Okay, if it's a date, what are you planning?'
