Nailed

by Christine d'Abo

  “Where the hell have you two been? Fynn, I need you in the house. The abatement team is here and Brian wants this on film.”

  “Just needed a fix. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “You have five, but any longer and I think Brian might actually freak out.”

  Matt was barely out of earshot when my big mouth opened up. “Once more we are torn apart. Our secret tryst disrupted by the chaos of our lives.”

  That earned me a throaty chuckle. “Matt’s a jerk.”

  “He means well. I think he’s got Brian after him most days. And poor Brian has Carl breathing down his neck most of the time. That would pretty much turn anyone into a jerk.”

  “Umm.”

  Instead of simply drifting apart and going back to our respective jobs like normal people would, we both lingered for a moment. You know that first date vibe, where you’re not sure what to do or say because the stuff in your head is so inappropriate it would embarrass future generations? We totally had that going on.

  Fynn patted the side of his thigh with the hand that held the sandwich, making a rattling noise. “I better get going.”

  “Yeah. I have to check some numbers so I can place my orders for the hardwood.”

  “Okay good.”

  “Yup. So, I’ll see you around.”

  “M’kay.”

  My courage finally gave up and I marched toward my makeshift office in the house. I didn’t even bother to look to see if he’d gone or if he watched me go. I couldn’t, because that would make things even harder for me. I needed time and space to figure out the growing problem that was Fynn.

  Chapter Three

  The shooting schedule for week three is complete. I sent the film crew home despite additional construction work still scheduled. I think we have more than enough shots of living room until next phase. Staff note, Matt has been making comments about Fynn and Sophia. I’m not sure what that boy’s been seeing through that lens of his, but he needs to stop running his mouth off. Sophia is a lovely young woman, I can’t image she’d do anything inappropriate on site.

  —Impact Load Production Notes, Brian Merrick, Director

  My mom told me that you learn a lot about yourself when you finally get your first serious job. I think she intended that to be a bit of a pep talk, reassuring me that I’d blossom as a woman as soon as I got doing what I was meant to in life. The older I got, the more ominous that sounded, until I was scared she was actually trying to warn me off becoming an adult.

  So far the main thing I’d learned was how to drink more coffee than was healthy and run around like a crazy woman. I’d also become a multitasking queen, though, which was a somewhat adult skill, so go me! Currently, my multitasking involved me already prepared for my night out, clad in a black Mélissa Nepton “Eva” dress and stilettos on the construction site, leaning over my work desk as I checked the day’s progress report so I could wrap things up before leaving.

  Tamara had talked me into going on a double date with her and two guys we knew in college. At least she said I knew who Jacob McNaughton was, but I couldn’t for the life of me put a face with the name. Regardless, it was Friday night and I hadn’t had any down time in nearly three weeks. I deserved a little bit of gratuitous flirting and, if I’d been the type, I’d have wished for a round of strings-free sex. I was ramped up hotter than an adolescent boy watching a Victoria’s Secret fashion show and needed to blow off some steam before I ended up dry humping a lumber pile.

  Which would totally be Fynn’s fault. The bastard.

  “What time is it?” I called out. I couldn’t actually see anyone in the outside room, but there was always someone floating around the site to answer. If I was late getting to the restaurant, Tamara would kill me.

  “It’s nearly nine. Holy shit, you’re hot.” Of course it was Matt who answered.

  I looked up from my daily notes to see him standing in the doorway, unabashedly staring at my ass. I couldn’t resist giving it a little wiggle. “Thanks. You look like shit.”

  “I’m tired.” The comment lacked his usual bite. “You’re clearly heading out. Big date?”

  “It’s a setup. I suspect we’ll suffer through awkward conversation over dinner and drinks before I bail. I’ll be home by midnight.”

  “Why didn’t you go home to change? Fynn will have a shit fit if he sees you like that. It’s not safe.”

  “I didn’t have time to finish up the dailies, go home to change and make it to The Peartree on time. I’ll be sure to hide from Fynn.”

  “I’m surprised you’re giving yourself the night off at all.”

  “All work and no play, right?”

  The hours were starting to blur together. If I wasn’t working on Trinity House, I was in meetings reviewing the plans and how they were doing with the budget. Not to mention the no fewer than three disasters and four issues that have to be handled right now, please Sophia when I wasn’t on camera. And the hours Fynn and I spent eye fucking.

  Ever since the coffee shop, we’d been doing this crazy little dance. I’d catch him looking, so I’d lean over to put my cleavage on full display. He’d stare and lick his lips before dragging his gaze back to mine. There was something dangerous in his eyes, something that had my pussy wet in less than a heartbeat. Fynn was all hard muscle, constant five-o’clock shadow and grit. He’d been trying to keep me at arm’s length when we’d first met. I thought that was because he didn’t like me. Over the past few days I suspected it had more to do with him liking me a bit too much.

  Matt nodded. “I’m sure you’ll have whoever he is eating out of your hand in two minutes. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Bright-eyed and all that stuff.”

  A few of the guys smiled and waved good-night as they passed by on their way home for the night. If any of them did a double take, I was too distracted to notice. The quiet stretched on, which gave me time to catch my breath. I probably should have called Tamara to let her know I was running late, but then I’d get guilt. I didn’t need guilt, not tonight. I straightened up, ran my hands down my dress making sure the black fabric was hanging the way it should, and stepped into the hallway.

  I was about to turn and leave when I heard the sound of hammering echoing through the rooms. One of the teams must have been running behind on something for them to still be at it this time of night. If I was going to take the night off, everyone else could, as well. I changed direction and headed toward the source of the sound, the click of my heels in rhythm with their banging.

  “Hey, it’s getting late. Time to call it a night.”

  A man was on his knees, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe down his face. Now, I’m a girl with some pretty healthy fantasies. A man on his knees is a big one for me. So who could blame me for having a good long look at his six-pack and the dusting of hair that trailed down to his groin? And no, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. The scent of man at work mixed with wood set my mouth watering. Yeah, undiscovered kink! He let his shirt drop, hiding the tantalizing view and forcing me to look up....

  Into Fynn’s eyes.

  Fuck.

  “Oh, it’s you.” It was times like this that I wished I was as smooth as Tamara. “I thought it was one of the crew. I was about to send them home.”

  “This room needed to be cleared before the morning or else we’d be behind.” Pushing himself to his feet, Fynn snagged a water bottle and downed the contents in three swallows. “I’m nearly finished.”

  You’re not the only one.

  “Why are you dressed like that on site? You should be in steel toes not those nut crushers. You’re going to kill yourself.”

  “Blind date. That I’m actually going to be late for if I don’t head out right now.”

  Fynn tensed, his grip flexing around the bottle. “I wouldn’t think a woman like you would need to be set up.”

  “Tamara thinks we’re both becoming workaholics. It was her idea for us to go out and have a bit of fun. She’s t
he boss and I’m going along for the ride.”

  Fynn tossed the bottle into the garbage can across the room. I shouldn’t have been as fascinated watching the stretch and flex of his arm muscles as I was. He was becoming an addiction, one that I was going to have a hard time shaking once this project was all said and done. I touched the side of my neck and the motion caught his attention.

  “You look beautiful.” His voice was gravelly, the timbre sending a shiver through to my core. The compliment would have worked better if he hadn’t sounded so annoyed. “Your date will approve.”

  “He’s an acquaintance from college. He told Tamara that he’d had a crush on me for years but had been too chicken to say anything.”

  Something flashed in his eyes and the muscle in his jaw jumped. “He’s not worth bothering with then.”

  My heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Excuse me?”

  “Any man who had the chance to win you over and didn’t man up to do it isn’t worth your time.”

  Shit.

  I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to men. I generally know when I’m getting hit on and when someone is kidding around. Fynn was dead serious, which left me with a world of questions. First and foremost being—what the hell did he mean by that?

  My cell phone went off from the other room. “That’s probably Tamara wondering where I am.”

  I turned too quickly and the heel of my stiletto got lodged in a gap between the floorboards. I lost my balance and fell backward with a screech.

  “Sophia!”

  I whacked my head hard against the remainder of a wall frame. My vision momentarily blacked out, though my ears still seemed to work fine. They were ringing loud enough to give me a headache. Or maybe that had been the two-by-four. “Ouch.”

  “Don’t move. I need to make sure you’re not hurt.”

  Before he’d even finished speaking, his hands were running over my body. Strong fingers along the back of my neck, through my hair, caressing my cheek, before sliding down my bare arms to stop at my wrists. “I don’t think you’re bleeding.”

  Those few moments were all the time my body needed to right itself. My vision slowly came back in a myriad of stars until Fynn’s concerned face filled my field of vision. Heat rolled off him, warming my suddenly chilled body. His hands were braced on either side of me, his chest directly above mine. From this angle it was easy to imagine what he’d look like in bed, sweaty from sex and warm from cuddling. Goose bumps broke out across my skin as I shivered.

  He didn’t move and I found it hard to breathe. His gaze traveled across my face, pausing on my mouth. His lips parted, drawing my attention from the way his dark stubble accentuated the ruggedness of his appearance, and over to the thought of how that stubble would feel scraping against my skin if we kissed.

  When he once again met my gaze, there was no hiding the attraction. On impulse, I parted my legs and flattened my hands against the floor. My pussy grew damp, imagining the feel of his massive chest on me, the way his cock would slide into my body. Would he be rough, hold me down for a hard fuck, or would he be gentle? I needed to know. Needed to find a way to obliterate the itch in my body that started every time Fynn came within a mile of me.

  “You’ve ruined your dress.” His breath washed across my face and across the tops of my breasts.

  “Don’t really care.”

  “Your date might.”

  I couldn’t even remember my date’s name with Fynn staring down at me. It would be so easy to lean up, close the distance and kiss him. Shit, I really wanted to kiss him.

  “Can you sit up?” He didn’t wait for me to respond, easing me up by the shoulders until I was seated with my shoulder pressed firmly against his chest for support. Sweat dampened his shirt, heated from his hard work. I didn’t want to pull away. If anything, I wished I could press my nose to the crook of his neck and bask in his scent. “You’re going to have a bump in the morning and probably a headache.”

  Better than the throbbing in my pussy. “That will teach me for not wearing proper attire on site.”

  Fynn surprisingly held still. The unexpected intimacy of the moment was slipping away from us. I wanted to make another joke, some little quip that might coax a smile from him. I might have managed it if he hadn’t taken that moment to rub small circles against the small of my back.

  “I’ll be sure to give you hell if I see you do it again.” His breath tickled the side of my cheek. His voice was little more than a teasing hint of what it might sound like if they were fucking. “It’s my fault you got hurt.”

  “I’m pretty certain you didn’t knock my feet out from under me, so there’s no blame going on here.”

  His hand hadn’t stopped moving, the press of his fingertips easing the accumulated hurts of the past few weeks. A tingle started where his touch connected with mine and spread throughout my body. This wasn’t the Fynn from the show. That Fynn kept his distance from me, made sure not to be alone in the same room as me.

  I certainly wouldn’t have imagined the strength in his touch and how being this close to him threatened to consume my restraint. Because the only thing I wanted to do was lean in and kiss him, taste him. Devour every inch of his mouth until there was no stopping the inevitable conclusion.

  A car horn suddenly blared, and we both jumped. Fynn cleared his throat, shifting away from me. “You should probably skip the date and go get your head checked out. I wouldn’t want you to have a concussion.”

  “Maybe.” There were so many reasons why I should get to my feet and leave Fynn to do his job. And yet, I stayed exactly where I was.

  “Your maybe sounds an awful lot like no.” He rubbed the back of his neck, causing his biceps to flex. I nearly came.

  “My mom always told me I had a thick skull. I’m sure I’ll live to see morning.” My cell went off again. “Dammit.”

  “I’ll get it.” Before I could protest, Fynn was gone.

  With my head throbbing, I looked down to see the damage. My dress was now smudged with dust, but was probably salvageable if I found a bathroom and performed a little emergency maintenance. I’d swallow a couple of Tylenol on my way to the restaurant. I was going to need the medicine-induced distraction to get my head off of Fynn. Because I hadn’t a clue what was happening any longer.

  This was nothing more than physical attraction. I didn’t do relationships, never finding myself able to completely trust the guy I was with. It was better if I kept going the way I always had. Fynn was simply a guy I had the hots for.

  Not a damn thing more than that.

  “That’s right. Yeah, she whacked her head pretty hard. She can’t make it.”

  I snapped up my head to see the object of my torment standing in the room, my cell phone pressed to his ear. “Who the hell are you talking to? That better not be Tamara.”

  Fynn smirked. It was pure evil. I kind of liked it. “I promise I’m not covering for her. I’m even going to drive her home. I don’t trust her behind the wheel right now.”

  “The hell you are.” I could manage just fine with my minor concussion, thank you very much.

  “I’ll have her call you once she’s home. Yup. Okay. Bye.” He disconnected the call before I had a chance to get to my feet.

  He stepped closer and pressed my phone into my hand. In a move that would have impressed the judges on Dancing with the Stars, Fynn had his hand pressed just above the swell of my ass and was helping me out the door.

  That unwanted tingle of lust rolled through me once more, hardening my nipples and sending me dangerously close to the edge. “I...”

  “We’re partners in this. It’s my job to make sure nothing bad happens to our lead designer.”

  Partners? Right, this wasn’t about the surge of awareness that ran through us whenever we touched. There was no way I’d tell him how his scent clung to my skin after being with him for only a short time. The thought of having him know where I lived scared the shit out of me. Not because I didn’t trust him, but t
hat would take my fantasies up another notch. They’d move past my lingering dreams of having his hard body pressed against mine in some anonymous room, to picturing him walking into my bedroom, ready for action.

  “It’s nice to know you look after your partners this well.”

  We didn’t say much of anything else as he helped me into his Ford F-150 Raptor. Compared to my Fiat the cab might as well have been a limo. Sure, it was a practical vehicle for a contractor, but he obviously had paid for all the extras. Clearly, his paycheck is way bigger than mine.

  Fynn climbed in beside me, but didn’t immediately turn the truck on. For a moment, I figured he was going to change his mind and tuck me into my car. Instead he leaned across the console between us, his gaze locked firmly on mine.

  “When Carl first told me about you and what this show entailed, he told me it was a present. A means to repair my reputation and get my business back on track. I assumed you’d be too young to handle this project and would either bolt after the first day, or fob most of your responsibilities off on my crew.”

  It hurt, but I suspected Fynn wasn’t alone in his feelings. “I’m still here. Working my ass off.”

  “I see that.” He took me by the hand and gave me a gentle squeeze. “You’re doing fine. Better than I did on my first show. I wanted to let you know that you’ve earned my respect.”

  The back of my throat began to burn. I had to force my swallow past the lump. “Thanks.”

  Fynn started to pull back, but I couldn’t let it end like that. Resting my hand on his, I closed the distance and pressed a kiss to the side of his lips. “Thank you.”

  Fynn sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry you got hurt. But I’m not sorry you’re missing your date.”

  I didn’t move, instead closing my eyes. I was too scared to see the look on his face. “I’m beginning not to mind myself.”

  Moving apart, I pressed myself firmly back into my seat and tried to make sense of everything as I gave Fynn directions to my house. After he dropped me off, I realized that my house hadn’t felt that empty in a long time.