by Wilde, Erika
Morgan stopped eating and raised his eyes to hers. “I know she missed you, too, Tess. You were her best friend.”
That was yet another regret to bear, and one she wanted to mend. A lump rose in the back of Tess’s throat and she swallowed it back. “When I left…after the way you and I parted ways, well, I didn’t think she’d ever want to speak to me again.”
“I won’t lie to you, Tess. Amy was pretty upset at first, mostly on my behalf, but I know over the years she wished that things had ended differently between the two of you.” Then he did the unexpected and reached across the table, placed his hand over hers, and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “Look at it this way. I’m speaking to you again, so there’s hope for my sister, too.”
His sincerity was unmistakable, the warmth of his touch oddly comforting. “I’d like to think that your sister might come around.” She withdrew her hand from his, stood, and stacked the empty plates and utensils. “Since I’m going to be in town for a while, I’ll stop by her place sometime and say hello.”
“I’m sure she’d like that.” After finishing his coffee, he stood, too, and helped her clear the table. Once that was done and she was rinsing everything to put into the dishwasher, he said, “I’m going to go get my tablet from my truck and we can get to business on an estimate.”
She nodded as she scrubbed the skillet clean. “Sounds good.”
He returned minutes later, just as she was closing up the dishwasher. She rinsed her hands, wiped them on a dry towel, and turned around to face him. He held a small computer tablet in his hand and was busy typing information onto what looked like an invoice on the screen.
He was back to being all business, their earlier moment of bonding over with. “How do you want to handle this?” she asked.
Finished typing, he glanced up at her. “First we’ll go through the house together and make a list of what needs to be done, and from there I can give you an estimate of what it’s going to cost.”
She pushed her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans. “Fair enough.”
He glanced around the room, his gaze scrutinizing everything from the ceiling to the floor and everything in between. “Let’s start here in the kitchen, head outside to see what needs to be done there, then work our way up to the second level.”
She stated the obvious problems in the kitchen. “The linoleum and Formica countertops are cracked and torn and need to be redone, and that back screen door is rotting around the hinges, so I’d like to get that replaced, too.”
“That’s easy enough.” He measured the length of the countertops, input the figures on his estimate form, then squatted down and peeled back a corner of the old linoleum covering the floor. “You’ve got hardwood floors beneath all this. If you had them refinished, it would match beautifully with the rest of the downstairs.”
She was surprised to find out that her grandmother had covered up the beautiful wood. “That would look great.”
From there, they headed out the back door and assessed the damage on the outside of the house. Morgan told her he’d hire some teenage boys to clean up the yard and rotten peaches, and plant a few rose bushes around the front to make the place more appealing to the eye of a prospective buyer. The planks along the porch needed to be replaced, along with the front stairs that threatened to collapse beneath Morgan’s weight. The old, cracked and peeling paint on the house and along the trim needed to be sanded and restored to its former luster and beauty.
Back inside, they went from room to room, noting problems and concerns, which included a new banister, the plumbing in the third bathroom upstairs that was leaking, a few electrical issues, and ancient light fixtures that needed to be upgraded. Just like the outside of the house, he told her that a fresh coat of paint would go a long way in brightening up the interior of the house and make it more inviting.
Lastly, they ended up in her bedroom, and with Morgan standing close beside her she was swamped with instantaneous awareness and provocative memories of the times the two of them had sex on her bed. Her mind conjured up the way they’d looked together, with her legs wrapped tight around his hips, her fingers digging into the muscled flesh along his back, and her body eager and straining beneath the heat and hardness of his.
She cleared her throat before one of those telltale groans could escape and give Morgan too much insight into her lustful thoughts, and walked to the bedroom window. She unlatched it and gave it a tug, but it wouldn’t budge.
She released a frustrated sigh. “This window is stuck and won’t open, no matter how hard I try. It would be nice to get it to work again so I can have some fresh air at night.”
He set his tablet on the bed before coming up next to her and giving it a hard, upward jerk. With a crackling, peeling sound the wooden casing came loose and separated from the frame, allowing the window to open about a foot and a half before it came to a stop again.
She rolled her eyes. It figured he’d be able to open it so effortlessly after she’d been struggling to do it on her own. “I guess those muscles of yours come in handy after all, don’t they?”
He just laughed as he examined the tracking along the sides of the window. “It looks like the wood around the frame has swelled from dampness and rain and not being used often enough. A bit of shaving and resealing along the edges ought to make it as good as new.”
He leaned out the window to check the condition of the outer frame, and when he came back inside he was chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, unable to figure out what he’d found so entertaining.
He shook his head, though there was a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Nothing.”
She didn’t believe him. “It was obviously something.”
He propped his hands on his waist and hesitated a moment before sharing what had amused him. “Remember the time we ditched school and spent the day up here in your room?”
A quiver surged through her. Oh, yeah, she remembered vividly. With her grandmother spending the day with a friend shopping in Atlanta, it had been an afternoon indulging in sexual decadence and forbidden pleasures for her and Morgan.
Still, she didn’t get the joke. “And you find that memory funny?”
“No, I find it damn arousing,” he said, his drawl deep and rich and seductive. “But what we did up here together wasn’t what I was laughing at. I was thinking about how your grandmother came home earlier than you’d expected and when we heard her calling your name from downstairs you completely panicked.”
Her eyes widened as the recollection poured through her mind, thrusting her back into the past. Fearful of what would happen if her grandmother found her and Morgan together, she’d pushed him out of her bed, whispering frantically for him to put on his clothes and go while she’d tossed on her own blouse and shorts. But the only way out of the room without getting caught was the window, and they both knew that was the exit he’d have to take.
When her grandmother’s voice echoed up the stairway, Tess had pushed a half-dressed Morgan toward the window and shoved him out, hoping to God that he’d be able to use the trellis along the side of the house to help him get down to the ground safely. But that hadn’t happened at all.
A giggle bubbled up into her throat, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to keep it contained.
“Go ahead and laugh.” His eyes danced with the same humor tickling through her. “You didn’t even give me the chance to get my pants up around my hips before you were jamming me through the window as fast as you could. So, with my bare ass half hanging out of my jeans, I lost my grip and fell into the flower bed and nearly broke my neck.”
She was laughing now, a deep throated chuckle that matched his. The whole scenario was hysterically funny now, but at the time she remembered the horror of watching him fall two stories down. He’d landed on his side, crawled out of the flower bed, and with a grimace of pain he’d waved at her that he was okay before fleeing the back way toward his parents’ house.
A
s for her, she’d had just enough time to grab a school math book, plop herself back onto her bed, and pretend she’d fallen asleep while doing homework before her grandmother had opened the door to her room to check on her.
Once her mirth subsided, she wiped the moisture from her eyes. “Oh, God, Morgan, what were we thinking to take that chance fooling around up here that day?”
“I don’t think either of us were thinking.” Lifting his hand, he gently brushed the tips of his fingers along her smooth cheek, then cradled the side of her face in his large palm. “We were feeling all kinds of good stuff, and we lost track of time.”
All traces of laughter and amusement between them faded at that moment. Her face warmed beneath his touch, and she felt herself falling, spiraling straight into the kind of desire and need she hadn’t felt in so, so long.
His gaze locked on hers, and she watched, fascinated, as his eyes darkened and turned to slate. She knew that hot, sexy look of his that reminded her of a male alpha wolf on the prowl. Remembered it well. And it obviously still had the power to delight and excite her.
“Morgan, what are you doing?” Her voice was a croak of sound.
“I believe I’m about to mix business with a little pleasure.” His thumb skimmed across her bottom lip, tugging it open ever so slightly. “The moment I saw you in my workshop yesterday I wanted to kiss you, and since we’ll be working so closely together and I’m constantly distracted by thoughts of kissing you, I figure we might as well get it out of the way now.” He stepped closer, bringing with him an earthy, elemental scent that made her dizzy with want for him. “Do you have a problem with that, sweetheart?”
Her mind told her to tell him yes, she had a huge problem with him putting his lips on hers, because she knew how lost she’d be once he did so. Their business deal didn’t include the kind of pleasure his eyes were promising, but she had intimate knowledge of just how well this man could kiss.
Slow and thorough, and just wet enough to electrify every one of her feminine senses. Soft, deeply erotic kisses that gradually escalated into a fierce and urgent hunger.
His irresistible kisses had been the ones she’d judged all others by—and found each one lacking in comparison.
Her heart beat erratically in her chest. Her breathing deepened, and she had to swallow hard to speak. “No, I don’t have a problem with that. Not at all.”
“Good,” he said, and finally lowered his mouth to hers.
CHAPTER THREE
As soon as Morgan’s lips touched Tess’s, hers parted in invitation, but he was in no rush to complete this kiss. He had eight long years to make up for in this one moment, and he planned to do his damndest to make it good…for both of them.
Nibbling lightly at her plump bottom lip, he maneuvered her back a few steps, until she was up against the wall next to the window. He slid a hand into her hair, enjoying the feel of the silky textured strands sliding through his fingers, and he cupped the back of her head in his palm, which gave him control over just how deep and how long he planned to kiss her.
He started out slow, relearning the feel of her lips against his, and when she let out a shivery sigh he slid his tongue lazily inside her warm, welcoming mouth.
While he was reacquainting himself with the sweet, hot taste that was Tess, she was busy running her hands down his chest. Then she caught her fingers in the waistband of his jeans, pulled him close, and moved her pelvis sensuously against his.
A burning ache settled in his groin. Sweeping his other hand down to her bottom, he grabbed her ass and lifted her higher, tighter, against him. He fit the length of his erection between her parted thighs and rolled his hips just as aggressively. She gasped and shuddered, and he swallowed the sound as his tongue delved deeper, the kiss grew wetter, wilder, and their bodies strained and ignited like wildfire.
God, she was still just as passionate as she’d been at seventeen, if not more so. Just as eager and responsive. And he went a little bit crazy thinking about how incredible it would feel to be inside her again. To have his hands all over her sleek, naked flesh, his cock buried deep, and his mouth on her full, lush breasts.
His control threatened to snap, and with a low growl he pulled his mouth from hers before he pushed her down on the nearby bed, ripped off their clothes, and followed through on his sinful thoughts.
Flattening his hands on either side of her head, he moved back just enough so that he no longer had her pinned against the wall and they both had a bit more breathing room.
“That was nice,” he murmured against her ear. “Very nice.”
“Mmmm,” she hummed, which was all she seemed to be able to manage.
He glanced down at her, taking in her dazed expression, the hair that was mussed from his hands, her soft, kiss-swollen lips, and thought she looked like sex personified. “You always were a hot little thing. It’s nice to know that hasn’t changed.”
Her eyes flashed indignantly, clearing out the fog of desire clouding their depths. “And you always were much too cocky for your own good. It appears you still are.”
He grinned, liking this strong, impertinence she’d developed over the years. “Only when it comes to something I’m confident about.”
Her chin lifted a fraction, as did a brow. “And what would that be?”
“You. This. Us.” He slipped his hand beneath the hem of her T-shirt, let it rest heavily on the curve of her waist, and stroked his thumb along the bare, silken flesh above the waistband of her jeans.
She sucked in a quick, startled breath.
He grinned triumphantly. “It’s still there, isn’t it?” She blinked up at him, obviously trying to pretend that his touch no longer had the ability to make her melt and bend to his will. “What’s still there?”
She was feigning ignorance by playing dumb, and he decided to up the stakes between them. His palm slid higher, until his fingers feathered beneath her breast, making her gulp back a low moan that managed to escape her throat anyway.
“The chemistry, the heat,” he said, and because she’d felt how much he’d wanted her just minutes ago, he added, “The need for me to get as deep inside you as possible.”
A low gust of breath unraveled out of her, though much to his surprise she managed to remain outwardly composed. “You think I’m that easy?”
“Easy?” he repeated, then shook his head. “Hell, no. A grown woman with desires and sexual needs? Absolutely.”
The corner of her mouth tipped up in a derisive smile. “And you think you’re just the man to take care of those needs, right?”
He skimmed his fingers back down to her flat belly and felt goose bumps rise on her flesh. “What I know is how good it was between us eight years ago, and how good it feels now. So why not enjoy?”
She stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to figure out his angle…and if he was truly serious about his intentions. “So, if I hire you, does that mean you’re going to spend the next month trying to get inside my pants?”
He laughed, the sound brimming with amusement. “You know me, Tess. I always did love a good challenge. But the way I see things, the only way I can get into your pants is if you let me.” Because as much as he still wanted her, it was ultimately up to Tess to surrender to him of her own free will.
With that, he moved away from her and picked up his tablet from her bed, ready to be on his way and leave her with her own thoughts about what she wanted. At the door, he stopped and glanced back at Tess, her bewildered expression telling him she wasn’t sure what to make of what had just transpired between them.
He liked seeing her a little off-balance, and knew the next few weeks were going to be very interesting.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he said appreciatively. “I’ll have an estimate for you by tomorrow, and I can get started on the restoration work on Monday.”
She nodded mutely, still standing against the wall across the room from him.
He grinned, winked at her, and then he was gone.
> * * *
Tess glanced out the kitchen window to the backyard as she placed half a dozen of the peach cobbler cookies she’d baked earlier that morning on a plate, and smiled at the transformation she saw.
For the past five days the three high-school boys Morgan had hired to do the yard work had labored long and hard to get the outside of the place back into shape. Overgrown weeds had been pulled and the debris removed, and the lawn had been mowed and fertilized, giving it a well-manicured look.
The ground beneath the peach trees had been cleared of rotting fruit and the branches and leaves had been neatly trimmed back. The trees now looked healthy and less burdened by overripe peaches, though there was still an abundance to pick from, which accounted for all the baking and recipes Tess had been experimenting with over the past few days.
Retrieving a pitcher from the refrigerator, she filled a large plastic tumbler with the iced tea, amazed at how much had been accomplished in a week and a half’s time. Despite Morgan’s initial claim that he didn’t have any men to spare for the restoration work, he’d managed to bring in a small crew of three of his guys to help him with the more time-consuming chores. As a result, the outside of the house was nearly restored to a dazzling, beautiful sight—from a new coat of paint that made the structure look a good twenty years younger than it really was, to the thriving plants and shrubs and blooming flowers around the perimeter of the house that added a new stately, elegant dimension to the two-story residence.
Morgan still had the inside to refurbish, but it was apparent that the once run-down house was gradually coming to life and taking on a personality all its own. And so was something within Tess: a bubbling excitement and an inexplicable optimism for the future that she’d yet to fully define.
Picking up the plate of cookies and the iced tea, Tess headed out the kitchen’s back door and followed the sound of steady hammering to the front of the house, where Morgan had spent the better part of the day working to replace the porch floorboards and stairs.
