by Wilde, Erika
GOOD WITH HIS HANDS
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR
ERIKA WILDE
Copyright © Janelle Denison, Inc. 2017
Originally Published as “Slow Hands”, December 2004 as Janelle Denison
Kindle Edition
Cover Design by Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Cover Photography: Eric Battershell Photography
Formatting: BB eBooks
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
GOOD WITH HIS HANDS
Tess Monroe knows what it’s like to live with regrets. Eight years ago, she left behind the only man she’s ever loved to pursue a life in the city. She’s tried not to look back but when she’s forced to return to the small town where she grew up to sort out her grandmother’s house, she must face her unresolved feelings for sexy, brooding Morgan Kane—even though their past has made him gruff and bitter.
But what’s a girl to do when all that anger of his turns to hot, steamy seduction? Resisting a man who is so good with his hands is nearly impossible for Tess, and it doesn’t take long until they’re both in over their heads and Tess has another difficult choice to make . . . head back to the city where her life is, or give it all up for love?
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Thank You
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
Tess Monroe gazed at the breathtakingly gorgeous man standing a few feet away from her and had to admit that Morgan Kane only grew finer with age. Every time she’d seen him over the past eight years he seemed sexier and more virile than before. And today was no exception.
With his back to her and unaware of her presence as he used an electric sander to smooth out the piece of wood on his workbench, she took a moment to appreciate what made him so stunningly male—most precisely the lean, toned physique guaranteed to turn feminine heads and elicit a woman’s deepest, most erotic fantasies. The tattoos running down the length of one of his arms didn’t hurt, either, and only added to his hotness factor and bad boy appeal.
As he worked the sander along the wood, the muscles in his arms and across his back bunched and shifted beneath the light blue cotton T-shirt he wore. The low slung waistband of his faded jeans clung to his lean hips and accentuated his toned ass and sinewy thighs. From what she could see, there wasn’t an inch of excess fat on his well-built frame.
Caught up in the moment, Tess sighed dreamily. Atlanta, Georgia, the city where she now lived, just didn’t grow men like this. Morgan was pure country, with a powerful body honed by hard physical labor—not from an expensive membership at the gym. And despite their years apart, he still had the ability to draw her like no other. Including Patrick Young, the ex-fiancé she’d left behind in Atlanta when she’d made the decision to return to the small town of Wynhaven.
The last time she’d visited had been six months ago. It had been only a brief trip for her grandmother Helen’s funeral before she’d returned to her life in Atlanta, which had quickly unraveled and fallen apart. Now she was back temporarily to get her grandmother’s big, run-down house ready to sell while she figured out what the heck she was going to do now that she was unemployed and unengaged.
Another few moments passed before Morgan finally switched off the piece of machinery and removed his protective goggles. He absently pushed his fingers through his pitch-black hair, dislodging the sprinkling of sawdust clinging to the thick, rakishly long strands before he caressed that same hand over the lustrous slab of wood. His fingers traced the smooth lines and scalloped edge along the top of the piece, his touch slow and reverent, as if he were stroking a woman’s curves instead.
An unexpected flood of memories swamped Tess, thrusting her back to when she was seventeen and the object of Morgan’s affections. The sole focus of his warm, knowing touch. His exciting, adoring caresses. His deep, lush kisses that had seduced her into giving him her body and innocence that summer night long ago down by the lake next to her grandmother’s house. Her stomach fluttered at the sensual recollection, and a soft moan escaped her before she could stop it.
Morgan turned around, obviously startled by the sound, as well as her unannounced appearance into his private domain. His piercing silver eyes locked on hers, and she caught a fleeting glimpse of surprise at seeing her. This was the first time she’d deliberately sought him out since their breakup so long ago. Then his gaze narrowed and he gave her an abrupt nod of his dark head as he eyed her with reserve.
“Tess,” he murmured in that slow, lazy southern drawl that never failed to make her pulse race and a silky heat to spiral low. “I heard you were back in town.”
And just that easily, all those regrets she’d buried after leaving him behind for a life in Atlanta—a life her grandmother had pushed her to pursue—came rushing back, making her stomach clench with remorse.
She hated that she’d caused Morgan any kind of pain, yet there was no way to take back her past actions. And there had been so many times she’d wished she’d made different choices, that she’d been strong and bold enough to do what her heart wanted, and not what had been expected of her.
Shoving those thoughts away, she summoned a smile, determined not to let Morgan’s brusque attitude dissuade her. “I arrived a few days ago.”
His brazen gaze drifted down the length of her body, visually taking in her full breasts and her long, slender legs before gradually making his way back up to her face again. Warmth pooled in her stomach as he lingered a few extra seconds on her mouth before lifting his eyes to hers again.
“You’re looking…well,” he said.
It wasn’t much as far as greetings went, not that she’d been expecting some grand gesture like a welcoming hug, considering how strained things had grown between them over the past eight years. Now, he was reserved with her, and it pained her that they’d been reduced to this state of being polite and courteous with one another after everything they’d once shared. But she also knew she was mainly responsible for the emotional distance between them, and she hoped the gesture she was about to impart might help repair the damage she’d done to their relationship. That maybe this time around, when she returned to Atlanta, they could at least part ways as friends.
She shifted on her feet, gathering the confidence and composure that had served her well as a marketing rep for the large Atlanta firm she’d worked for. Before they’d decided to down-size and sent her on her way with a severance package that would help her through the next few months.
“Your secretary wasn’t at your main office,” she said, waving a hand toward the front of the building. “So I thought I’d follow the sounds coming from your workshop in hopes of finding you here.”
His gaze turned wary as she stepped farther into the shop and toward him, taking in the various woodworking pieces around the room. While Morgan had followed in his father’s footsteps in becoming a jack-of-all-trades to the residents around Wynhaven, she’d heard he had expanded the company to include home and business restorations on a larger scale. It looked as though he’d built Kane Construction into a successful venture.
And obviously, in his spare time it appea
red he did what he’d always loved best. He worked with oak, creating and crafting exquisite, one-of-a-kind custom pieces of furniture that put manufactured designs to shame. The man was immensely talented when it came to his hands, and he’d always known just how to put them to good use.
“So, what brings you by, Tess?” he asked, pulling her attention back to him again.
His expression was cool, his stance equally standoffish, indicating that any attempt at pleasantries were now over. Which was just as well, because Morgan wasn’t making any of this easy on her. Not that she’d expected him to.
If Mr. Tough Guy wanted to keep things all business, she was fine with that. “I came by to hire you to do repair and carpentry work on my grandmother’s house.”
A quick burst of laughter escaped him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” She frowned, taken aback by his skepticism. “My grandmother didn’t take very good care of the place as you well know. It’s a big house and more than she could ever handle on her own, and it needs a lot of work to get it back into decent shape.”
He leaned his backside against a workbench, crossed his long legs at the ankles, and considered that for a moment. “And then what do you plan to do with the house?”
It was far too large for her to live in alone, and she didn’t plan on staying in Wynhaven permanently. This was all a part of wrapping up those loose ends still dangling from her past. Her grandmother’s house. Morgan. And discovering what she wanted out of life, without her grandmother’s influence tugging at her conscience.
She shrugged. “I’ll put it on the market and see what happens.”
He folded his arms over his muscled chest and raised a dark brow. “While you go back to Atlanta and play?”
She bristled at his sarcasm. “Play?” she repeated, unable to keep the incredulity out of her tone. “Oh, yeah, Morgan, my life in Atlanta was one big party.”
He glanced away and blew out a deep breath, as if he knew he’d gone too far. But it gave her a good indication of just how much pain and resentment he still harbored toward her, and she hoped if he got a bit of that hurt off his chest they could go forward from there.
When his gaze returned to hers, his smoky eyes and expression were contrite. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he said, his tone low and rough. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve done very well for yourself since leaving Wynhaven.”
Which he’d probably learned through the grapevine. After all, her grandmother had been proud of her. She’d stressed the importance of a good education, a respectable job, and making a better life for herself than Tess’s own mother had. And Tess had done her best to please the woman who’d raised her after Tess’s mother had passed away, to make Helen Monroe proud where her own daughter had failed. Despite Helen’s overbearing ideals, Tess had loved her grandmother dearly and felt as though she owed her at least that much for everything she’d given up to take care of her.
“Not without a whole lot of hard work,” she said, refusing to let Morgan think that anything about her life in Atlanta had been easy.
She’d held down two jobs while attending Georgia State University, and had taken on odd jobs to make ends meet. More times than she could count she’d foregone having extra food in her refrigerator in order to make her rent. And when she was so homesick she wanted to cry, she’d forced herself to go on, to get her bachelor’s degree in business administration as she’d promised her grandmother she would.
But there wasn’t a day went by that she didn’t think about the man she’d left behind in Wynhaven and how much she missed him. Especially in those dark lonely hours of the night when she lay awake in her bed and wished she’d never left the small, secure town in which she’d been raised. Or Morgan.
No amount of success had ever eased that misery, which told her just how much a hold this man still had on her heart and emotions. Even if she’d been banished from his.
She pushed her fingers through her hair, still unused to the short, sophisticated, shoulder-length style a coworker had talked her into getting a few months ago. “For the moment I’m unemployed,” she told Morgan, not meeting his gaze. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she’d been one of the reps the firm had chosen to lay off, even though it had been a logical choice since she’d had the least seniority in the company. “Which gives me the free time to finally settle the issue of fixing up my grandmother’s house and getting it sold.”
She forced herself to look at him again. “So, what I need to know is if your company is available to do the repairs and restoration work.”
He shook his head, though there was no regret in the gesture, or his expression. “Sorry. My guys are all in the middle of different jobs and I don’t have anyone to spare right now.”
“And you?” she ventured boldly.
A faint smile twisted the corner of his lips. “I’m not interested.” In taking on the job, or you, his tone all but implied.
She kept her disappointment to herself. “I understand.” And she truly did. She knew his reasons for declining had nothing to do with business, but was based on their past and all the personal heartbreak between them. He had no desire to do anything for her. Business or otherwise.
Judging by his unrelenting expression, the man was adamant about his decision, and she silently admitted defeat. “I heard that Wayne Zimmerman down at the lumber mill does handyman work on the side. I’ll go by there tomorrow and see if he can’t help me out with what I need.”
A muscle in Morgan’s lean jaw clenched, the only show of emotion he allowed. “You do that,” he drawled.
Knowing there was nothing left to say between them, she smiled and took a step back, prepared to go. “It was nice seeing you again, Morgan.”
“Yeah, you, too,” he said, his voice low and husky. For a moment, she could have sworn she’d seen a flicker of longing pass over his features. Then it was gone, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined the sentiment. Which she probably had.
Without another word, she turned and walked out of his workshop. Minutes later she was in her car heading back to her grandmother’s big, lonely house and all the work that awaited her.
* * *
Morgan sat sprawled on a wicker chair out on his front porch in complete darkness, nursing a cold bottle of beer as he stared up at the clear, star-studded sky. The summer evening was warm, increasing the scent of pine in the air, while crickets chirped in the distance. Normally he found the ritual soothing, but tonight there was no relaxation to be found.
He couldn’t get Tess and her visit out of his mind, and Lord knew he’d tried. After work he’d headed off to a bar he frequented in a nearby town when he was looking to have a good time—and tonight he’d been looking to release a whole lot of tension. Mentally and physically.
The opportunity had presented itself in Wendy Landers, an aggressive redhead with whom he’d slept with a few times before. Their casual affair was all about pleasure and satisfaction—both of them lived by the no-strings-attached philosophy, which had suited him just fine. But despite how determined Wendy had been about her intentions with him tonight, he hadn’t been able to drum up the enthusiasm to take advantage of what she’d freely offered him.
And that had royally pissed him off. He was a red-blooded guy who liked sex. He enjoyed every aspect of being with a warm, willing woman, from foreplay to climax to the physical gratification that came from a good, hard fuck. But it appeared Tess had turned him into a monk for the evening, because no matter how hard he’d tried to make it happen between him and Wendy, his body had refused to rise to the occasion.
“Shit,” he muttered, and took a long pull of his beer, aggravated to no end that Tess had ruined what should have been a great Friday night.
With a low growl, he leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. Big mistake, he realized, as visions of her came into focus. Tired of fighting her allure, he allowed the images to come into sharp focus in his mind and saw her as she’d been in hi
s workshop today.
God, she’d turned into a beautiful, sensual woman—from being a slender, willowy teenage girl to a twenty-six-year-old female with full breasts, lush curves, and a firm looking ass that swayed enticingly as she’d walked away.
Her face had definitely matured over the years. Where her features had once been cute and pretty, she now possessed radiance and beauty and sophistication—a noticeable contrast to most of the women who lived in Wynhaven.
He wasn’t sure about her hair, though, he thought with a frown. He’d always loved it long, loved the way her hair draped halfway down her back and how he’d been able to wrap those thick blond strands around his fists in the throes of passion. Now she wore it in a short sleek style that barely brushed her shoulders, though he had to admit that the citified look suited her and went with the rest of her trendy packaging.
Her eyes were still as brown and expressive as he remembered, her mouth just as tempting. Oh, yeah, she’d been so damn eager to learn what turned him on and had done things to him with that sweet mouth of hers that had shattered his control and blown his mind.
Even now, his body recalled how her soft lips and warm, wet tongue had pleasured him. A rush of heat settled in his groin, making him hard as a spike, and he groaned at the irony of it. While he was grateful to know he could still get it up after his lack of interest in Wendy, he was aggravated that Tess still had the ability to affect him so easily. He would have thought after eight years and many women, his past relationship with Tess would be a distant memory. Unfortunately, the recollection of their time together was still fresh and vivid in his mind.
As was the devastating choice she’d made soon after she’d graduated high school.
Tess’s mother had died when she was eight, and without knowing who her father was her grandmother had raised her on her own. Helen had never made a secret of her disapproval of Morgan or their relationship because she’d never seen Morgan as someone who was good enough for her granddaughter, yet he’d foolishly believed that he and Tess would continue seeing one another while she attended college and he stayed in Wynhaven to take over his father’s business.
