She giggled. “Okay. But you get some too, Mr. Van!”
I broke off another wafer and bit into it. I ruffled her hair, the golden strands wild and soft. “You’re a good kid, Mouse. You share well.”
“Mommy says you should always share and be nice.”
“Mommy is right.”
She grinned at me, looking so much like Liv, it made me smile.
“Okay, let’s go home and make supper.”
She bobbed her head. “I can help!”
I ruffled her hair again and gave her another wafer. “I’m counting on it, Mouse.”
Liv set down her fork. “Thank you, Van. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed dinner so much.”
I frowned. “Then you need some serious spoiling, Liv.”
She smiled, looking down at her plate, running her finger around the rim.
“You do that a lot,” I observed.
She glanced up, confused. “Do what?”
“You look down when you smile.” Without thinking, I laid my hand on top of hers. “You have such a beautiful smile. You need to let people see it.”
“Oh,” she breathed out.
Sammy giggled, looking up from the picture she was coloring. “Grammie says my smile is just like Mommy’s. Does that mean it’s beautiful too?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “It is.”
“I like your smile,” Sammy stated. “It’s nice. And your eyes get all wrinkly. I like that.”
Liv looked horrified, but I was amused by her honesty. “That’s what happens when you get old, Sammy. You get wrinkly.”
“You’re not old,” Liv objected. “I’m thirty-two.”
“I’m seven years older than you.”
She shrugged. “It’s a number.”
Her easy acceptance somehow made me feel better. It also made me feel as if perhaps she wasn’t as set against the possibility of a date as I feared. Or a relationship.
Both of which, I realized, I wanted with her.
“She’s out like a light,” Liv murmured, stroking Sammy’s hair. She peeked up at me with a grin. “I would have thought with all the sugar you fed her, she’d be wired.”
“A couple of cookies isn’t bad,” I scoffed.
“Add in a chocolate bar, and it’s a lot.”
I grimaced. Obviously, I was busted. “She told you?”
Liv smiled. It was gentle and soft, filled with love as she looked down at Sammy. “She saved me part of one wafer. She didn’t want me to miss out on the treat.”
Aw, hell.
If I wasn’t already fond of the kid, that did it for me.
“It was melted and stuck to the inside of her knapsack pouch, but I ate it,” Liv said. “She was so proud of herself for sharing.”
My voice sounded oddly thick when I spoke. “She’s an awesome kid, Liv.”
“Thanks. I think so.”
With a final stroke to Sammy’s head, she bent low and kissed her brow. Watching the two of them together did something to my chest. The love Liv had for Sammy, and the way Sammy adored her mother, hanging on her every word, saving a piece of chocolate for her. They were an amazing little family.
I followed Liv from the room, resisting the urge to kiss Sammy’s head myself. I had already been given hugs and “smooches.” And she demanded I come listen to Liv read to her. As I had discovered, when Sammy asked me to do something, I was powerless to resist, so I had sat on the floor listening to Liv’s quiet voice as she read to her daughter. A yearning I had kept under wraps for years stirred as I watched them. The need to protect them. The desire to have them in my life. The longing to be part of their world.
It brought me up short, and my footsteps faltered behind Liv.
She turned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
In her living room, I hesitated. “I should go. You must be tired.”
She sat down, curling her legs underneath her. “Not as tired as I would have been without your help.” She indicated the chair beside her. “I would like to talk to you, though.”
I sank into the chair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Except, you didn’t have to call Mrs. Miller. Or Ben,” she scolded gently. “I don’t expect you to fight my battles for me, Van. You can’t do that.”
“I didn’t. Ben is a great foreman, but he goes off the rails at times with his demands. He doesn’t deal well, and I stepped in to tell him to back off. I would have, regardless of the person he was dealing with,” I assured her. “And Mrs. Miller is a handful. Bentley promised me this is the only time he will ever take on a project like this. I only smoothed her ruffled feathers. Again, nothing I wouldn’t have done for any of the staff.”
She gave me a challenging look but let it pass. “I still don’t know why he took it on. We don’t usually do builds for people. We buy, flip, and sell.”
“She wanted this house, but Bentley outbid her. She told him the house used to be her grandparents’ and she wanted it for sentimental reasons. She asked him to let her be the one who purchased it when it was complete and to be involved in the renos. She even offered him more than he felt it would be worth when it was done.” I chuckled dryly. “He had no idea what he was getting us into. Last week, he offered to sell it to her for what he paid plus expenses, walk away, and allow her to finish, but she was adamant she loved our work and she didn’t want that to happen.”
“She is very particular, but she has a good eye. We’re about two-thirds done. The rest is mostly cosmetic things,” Liv informed me. “Once the cabinets and fixtures are in place, the rest will happen fast, and we’ll be free.”
“Yeah, another couple of weeks, and it’s done,” I agreed.
“Let me handle her and Ben, Van. It’s important to me.”
“All right,” I said begrudgingly. I knew she was right. She was strong, capable, and smart. She didn’t need me to fix things usually, yet today, I had to step in.
She reached over and touched my hand. “But thank you. For that, taking care of Sammy, dinner—everything.”
Our eyes met and held. The room filled with a strange feeling—taking on a life of its own. One which contained only her and me.
Once again, Liv asked me a question.
“What are you doing here, Van?”
“Spending time with you and Sammy. I like it.”
“To what end?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I only know I enjoy it. I like both of you.” I studied her for a moment. “Would it be so awful, Liv? To see each other on occasion? Maybe dinner out?”
She hesitated, looking torn. There was obviously a story behind her worry.
“Tell me,” I urged.
A long sigh left her mouth. “Not long after Sammy’s third birthday, I met a guy—Evan. He seemed nice. I told him about Sammy, and he was fine. He was great with her. He was great with me. We dated, and I got comfortable with him. Sammy saw him as part of our lives. We both did.”
“But?” I let the question hang in the air, already knowing the answer.
“Nine months into the relationship, Evan decided a ready-made family wasn’t for him. It was too much. We were too much. He walked away. Sammy suffered terribly. She missed him so much, and you can’t make a three-year-old understand why the person they loved was simply gone. I couldn’t tell her he didn’t love us enough.”
“What an asshole,” I growled.
“We saw him about a year later. With his pregnant girlfriend. He had the audacity to tell me he had decided he liked being a dad figure, but he could never love Sammy fully since she wasn’t his. So he had decided to move on and make his own family.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I have never wanted to hit a person as much as I wanted to hit him that day. He basically told me my daughter wasn’t good enough for him to love. The same as her biological father.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. No wonder she was gun-shy. I couldn’t blame her, given her history. But I had to try.
“I’m not them, Liv. I’m not built to walk away. If I didn’t think we had a shot together, I wouldn’t put you or Sammy at risk.”
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
“Why do you think we have a shot?”
“I’ve always liked you, Liv,” I admitted. “But I made you off-limits because of my own history, the fact that we work together, and you’re a single mom. But I find you highly attractive. Sexy. Smart. An awesome mother. A beautiful woman. I’ve been holding back, but I’d like to see you.”
A smile curled her lips, and she dropped her gaze. I slid my finger under her chin. “What did I tell you about hiding your smile? I love to see it. I love knowing I caused it.”
This time, her smile lit her face. For a moment I basked in it, until she became serious.
“It scares me,” she admitted.
I decided to be honest. “It scares me too, Liv. I have my own history, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever want a relationship again. But there’s something between us, and I want to explore it.”
She tilted her head. “Will you tell me?”
“Yes. Soon.” I took her hand in mine. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. If you want to try this with me, you deserve to know my story too.”
She was quiet for a moment, then slowly nodded. “All right.”
“We can take it slow, Liv. Dinner. Another visit to the park. Please don’t say no to the idea and shut the door.”
She bit her lip, looking undecided.
“I play this weekend at the Troup. Why don’t you come see me and have a drink after? We’re pretty good.”
“I know,” she said. “I always enjoy your show.”
I smirked at her. “Always? I know you saw me once. You’ve been other times?”
Streaks of color highlighted her cheeks. “My friend, Judy, and I take turns once a month taking each other’s kids on the weekend. We get a break and the kids get along so well. Whenever I have Saturday night to myself and you’re playing, I come see you.”
I found myself on the floor in front of her, resting my hands on her thighs, gazing up at her. “Are you stalking me, Ms. Rourke?” I quirked my eyebrow suggestively. “Because I find it rather hot.”
“Maybe a little,” she whispered. “I’ve always liked you too, Van.”
I rose up on my knees, towering over her. “Then I suggest you call your friend and stalk me this weekend, Liv. I’ll play just for you.”
She whimpered, low and deep in her throat. Our gazes locked, feelings we were both admitting to simmering between us. Her golden eyes glimmered in the low light, and her soft scent surrounded me. My gaze fell to her mouth. Her tongue peeked out, moistening the plump bottom lip. Her breathing hitched, and mine deepened.
“I think I need to kiss you,” I murmured.
“Think or know?” she retorted.
“Know,” I groaned and pulled her into my arms, hauling her up tight to my chest. Our lips touched, separated, then joined again. Pressing, moving, learning.
When her tongue traced my bottom lip, I was lost. With a low growl, I pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.
She was everything I knew she would be and more. Sweet, giving, passionate. Our tongues stroked and tasted, our mouths melded as we discovered each other. She slid her hands into the hair at the nape of my neck, playing with the strands, her touch making me shiver. I caressed her everywhere. The length of her back, the bends and bows of her spine. The rounded slope of her shoulders. I ghosted my fingers along the delicate arch of her neck and wound them into her heavy hair. It was soft and silky under my touch. Her body aligned to mine perfectly. The quiet noises she made turned me on.
I wanted more. More of her.
I wanted to lay her out on her sofa and discover every hidden dip and curve of her body. Taste her everywhere. Find out what I could do to make her whimper. Gasp my name. I wanted to bury myself inside her and claim her.
Except… I had promised her slow. I knew I had already crossed every line with her, and I didn’t want to scare her by moving too fast. Regretfully, I tempered my kisses. Eased back the passion. Nuzzled her lips before drawing away.
She was a vision. Her hair a tangled mess from my hands. Her lips pink, wet, and swollen from my mouth. Her breathing rapid, the fast pants causing her breasts to rise and fall, her nipples hard under her sweater. I had to push myself away. I stood slowly, never breaking our gaze, letting her see the regret and lingering desire.
“You stopped,” she whispered.
I stooped and kissed her gently. “I’m not going to start our relationship off with a lie, Livvy. I said we’d go slow, and we will. You set the pace and I’ll follow.”
“Livvy?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s how I think of you—if that’s okay.”
She slipped her hand into mine. “Yeah. It’s okay.”
I squeezed her fingers. “I have to go.” If I didn’t, she’d be under me on the sofa in five minutes, and regardless of the fact that Sammy was down the hall, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Liv stood and walked me to the door. I was unable to resist tucking her into my arms again. She nestled against my chest as if she had always belonged there. I kissed the top of her head. “Lock the door and get some sleep.”
She looked up at me. “This is going to be complicated.”
“No, it won’t. It’ll be us, and we’ll figure out what that is as we go. Okay?”
She stretched up on her toes and kissed me.
“Okay.”
Van
I leaned back in my chair, tugging a hand through my hair. I shook my head in regret. “We’re stretched as it is, Bentley. I have no one I can put on another project.”
He grimaced. “We need to figure this out. I want this one done.” He looked at Jordan. “We have no one?”
Jordan chuckled under his breath. “Bentley, you are taking on projects faster than we can complete them. All of our crews are working, and we have three other projects waiting.”
Aiden laughed. “I told you, Bent. We need to put this one on hold.”
Bentley frowned. “No. The market is hot now. This is a great opportunity. A clean, fast in-and-out. The engineer agreed—the structures are solid. Three apartment buildings, each one needing the same thing—updating. We go in floor by floor, renovate, and move on. The values will increase, and we can make a huge profit.”
“Not if we don’t have the manpower.” I pointed out.
He tugged at his sleeves, staring down at the plans laid out in front of him. “We’ve hired temporary crews before. Why can’t we do it for this project?”
“The cost,” Jordan stated, matter-of-factly. “This is big.”
“But doable.” Bentley swung his gaze in my direction. “If we had more men, doable?”
“Yes.”
“Control,” Jordan added. “We lose control.”
Bentley tapped his fingers on the desk. “No. We do the plans, designs, and they work for us. Follow our guidelines. We need the manpower, nothing else.”
Beside me, Liv, who had been quiet up until this point, spoke. “What do you want from me, Bentley? What is your vision?”
“Play up the old-world charm. The buildings are sound and the layouts flow. Great bones, but they’re suffering from neglect. I want to highlight their beauty and make them come back to life.” He handed her a stack of photos. “See for yourself.”
“Okay,” she murmured, taking the photos. She flipped through them, nodding. I knew her mind was already coming up with ideas.
She was brilliant that way. It was hard to sit here and not stare at her. Or touch her. My fingers itched to feel her soft skin again. To taste her lips.
But I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Not at this moment.
Instead, I looked at the pictures Liv handed to me when she finished going through them. The three buildings sat on a cul-de-sac and had all been owned by one man. When he died, his family put them up for sale, a
nd BAM jumped. Bentley had a vision.
Bentley always had a vision.
“Renting or condos?” I asked.
“Both. Our property management group will handle all of it,” Aiden said. “Occupancy rates are down because the buildings were being neglected. People living there get first dibs on staying. We’re clearing out one building, and as soon as it's done, moving people from the next one in, and again with the last building. We’ll have no problem finding both renters and buyers.”
“Time frame?”
“ASAP,” Aiden stated unapologetically. “Find the right company, hire the crews, and get on it.” He looked at Jordan. “You can hire the crews, right?”
“Yes.”
“And Liv, you can design the floor plans?”
She pursed her lips. “Each one is the same layout?”
“Yes,” Bentley said. “Each building is three floors, four units per floor—the same layout. Two bedrooms, self-contained, with laundry. The basements are mechanical, storage, and all the other building equipment.” He leaned forward, meeting Liv’s gaze. “The apartments are charming. Gumwood, chair rails, hardwood floors, cove molding. Play it up but give them all the modern conveniences.”
“Join the old with the new,” she murmured.
“Yes!” He smacked the table. “That’s what I want.”
“I can do that.”
“I knew you could.” He winked.
I knew it as well. She was talented.
Bentley turned to me. “Van, I know this is a bigger scope than the houses we work on, but I want you to oversee it. I need your eye for detail and expertise with carpentry. The woodwork in these places will astound you, and I want to make sure the integrity is maintained.”
I was intrigued and the thought of using my woodworking skills appealing, but I had to ask. “What about the other three houses we’re working on?”
He waved his hand. “You told me Jenkins was a great manager. Give him a chance, let him oversee those with you backing him up, and concentrate on these,” he instructed. “Same with you, Liv. Hand over the designs to your assistant, Kim. Let’s see what they’ve got. I’ll even let you off the Miller project.”
Van: Vested Interest #5 Page 5
