Can't Shake You

by Molly McLain

  No thanks to the long hours he’d been putting in at the flip. And then, of course, the time they’d been puttin’ it in.

  She frowned at the reflection in her rearview mirror. He was exhausted. Which meant there’d be no sneaking a visit to his place. Dang. “Well, it sounds like you could use a good night’s sleep,” she said lightly, trying to disguise her disappointment.

  There was a long moment of silence, then another sigh. “I came on too strong, didn’t I? Leaving the remote. I just really like spending time with you and I thought maybe you’d wanna come over tonight...”

  Her feet stomped giddily against the floorboard of her car.

  “Was that a happy dance?”

  She stared wide-eyed into the mirror, watching her own face blanch. “Yes?”

  His throaty laugh echoed in her ear. “Babe.”

  Crap. “Listen, I like spending time with you too, but you’ve had a lot on your plate lately and if you want a night alone—”

  “What I want is for you to use the garage door opener in about an hour and a half, okay?” His blatant declaration had her grinning so big, her cheeks hurt.

  “I can make that happen. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive. Hit the button as soon as you turn into the driveway and you’ll be able to pull right in without waiting. Come in through the door in the garage. It’s always unlocked.”

  It was one thing to have a secret one-off with a forbidden man. It was something entirely different to enter into a hush-hush affair. And it did downright naughty things to her naughty parts. Good girl be damned. “I’ll see you in an hour and a half.”

  “Great. And bring your appetite—I’m cooking for you this time.”

  ***

  Josh's house was located outside of River Bend, on a short, dead-end road, just off the highway. The rear of the home butted up against a narrow cluster of trees that allowed a scant amount of privacy in comparison to the other three sides, which were bordered by far-stretching wheat fields.

  As Carissa approached the property, she remembered the first time she’d been there, three years earlier. That house had been a white, clapboard bungalow, but this one was resided in rich, log planking that gave it a cabin-esque feel. The soft glow of interior lights in the growing darkness only added to the cozy effect.

  Of course, since Josh had returned from Afghanistan, she’d visited several times with a variety of friends for a variety of reasons. Josh put a lot of work into the place, making it his own, instead of the elderly couple’s he’d bought it from shortly after starting up Hudson Contracting. Her familiarity with the house didn’t make this visit any less nerve-wracking.

  After driving past his truck and parking in the garage, she took a few deep breaths and made her way to the door, barely lifting her fist to knock before it swung open.

  “You’re just in time,” Josh greeted her. Dressed in a pair of black and white basketball shorts, a black t-shirt, and bare feet, he stepped to the side and extended his arm, waving her in. “Come on in.”

  His cool ease belied the pulse she saw beating rapidly in his throat and she gave an internal sigh of relief that, yep, he was indeed as nervous as she was.

  She moved past him into the kitchen, clutching her purse in her hands. Immediately, she was assaulted by the delicious aroma of something simmering on the stove and a spicy, homey scent that reminded her of autumn and a chilly afternoon, sipping apple cider. Definitely not the bachelor pad she remembered.

  Noticing the new, travertine flooring, she took care to kick off her flip-flops as she gave him an anxious smile. “You’ve completely redone the kitchen. It’s gorgeous. I especially love the dark cabinets. Maple?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and thanks. You look beautiful, by the way.” He leaned down and pressed a quick but exhilarating kiss to her lips. She felt the soft caress of his hand from her shoulder, all the way down her arm, and then back over her hip. The delicate touch, which had the cotton of her white sundress teasing against her skin, made her shiver in anticipation.

  He must have noticed, because he pulled away with a grin that made him look boyish and feral at the same time. “I’ve gotta stir the cream sauce before it scorches. Why don’t you grab yourself something to drink? Everything’s in the fridge.”

  She did as he suggested, then found a cozy spot against the counter near the stove. Watching him cook, she twisted off the top of a bottle of fruity, seasonal beer from a local brewery. “You didn’t have to go through all of this trouble,” she said, even though her stomach growled at the sight of wilted greens, mashed potatoes—with garlic and butter, if her nose was right—and a cream sauce that made her salivate.

  “After the phenomenal meal you shared with me last night, I owe you. There’s no dessert though. I can’t bake to save my life.” He shot her an apologetic frown and she giggled.

  “That’s okay. I still feel special.”

  “You should. I haven’t had more than frozen pizza and take-out burgers in this house in a month.” He gave her playful nudge with his elbow, turned the sauce off, and went to the fridge to retrieve a plate with two steaks. “Let’s head out to the patio, shall we?”

  Carissa couldn’t help but smile. “You’re killing me, you know that? How am I supposed to think straight, let alone keep my hands off of you when you’re being all sexy like this?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting all worked up because I’m about to grill you a steak.”

  “There’s something inherently hot about a man who cooks.”

  “Let’s just hope it’s actually as good as it smells.” He flashed that bright white grin as he slid open the patio door and let her slip past first.

  They stepped out onto the small deck and Carissa sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air. A dim light glowed from an outdoor fixture and a candle flickered in the center of a glass-topped table. To add to the ambiance, the low beat of a classic Journey song played from an iPod on a docking station set on the patio railing. The calming music of crickets and frogs filled in softly in the background.

  “This is nice.” Carissa took a seat in one of the four chairs at the table, sipped her beer, and enjoyed the amazing view. The clear night sky, the wide expanse of serene golden fields surrounding the property... “I’ve always loved it out here. This part of town, I mean.”

  “Me, too. Wish I was a little closer to the river though.” Josh tossed a rueful glance over his shoulder as he turned on the gas grill and gave it a moment to warm up.

  “Oh, yes. I’d love a beautiful spot near the water someday. Not sure why, but I’ve always had a fascination with water. Rivers, lakes, the ocean... So peaceful and centering.”

  “Then why’d you buy a fixer-upper and not a nice piece of land?”

  Carissa smiled softly, her thumb swiping over the condensation forming on the bottle in her hand. “Good question. I probably could have bought a decent waterfront plot with my cut of my mom’s life insurance, but that seemed too easy. There’d be no work in that, you know? In a twisted way, it felt like cheating. Plus, I’ve wanted to flip a house since I was ten. Two birds and all that.”

  Closing the lid over the steaks, Josh turned, eyebrows high. “Since you were ten? You’re kidding.”

  She nodded and shifted her legs to give him room when he dropped down into the chair angled in front of her. “You know my dad was a builder. And you saw how tightly I held onto that hammer. Whether or not I like it, construction seems to be in my blood.”

  Reclined back in the seat, his elbows propped on each arm and his knees spread wide, he nodded slowly. From the soft, appraising look in his eyes, she could tell he was carefully absorbing her confession. Just a small bit of information about a subject she never spoke of. She blamed the few texts with Cade for her reminiscent mood tonight, and she appreciated that Josh didn’t push her for more. And, ironically, by simply listening, he made her want to tell him more.

  “Cade and I used to hang out with my dad at some of hi
s less complicated job sites. Of course, he never took on the kinds of projects you do. He was content with mostly residential work. Remodels, repairs, the occasional flip. I suppose he liked seeing the old become new again.” She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips.

  Another baby step achieved.

  “Anyway, I’d like to build from scratch someday. Don’t get me wrong—you’ve done an amazing job turning this place around—but I want the home I spend the rest of my life in to be mine in every way.” She glanced up at Josh and the soft, uneven tilt of his mouth had her pulse kicking up a bit. She’d let him in a on a secret and she’d shared more about her dad than she’d shared with anyone else in River Bend, Maddie aside. And, from the satisfied way he was watching her, he knew it.

  “We have something in common then,” he said quietly. “I’ve enjoyed the challenge of this house and I’ve added enough of my own touches that it doesn’t feel like the same house I first moved into anymore. But it’s not entirely me either.”

  “No?”

  He gave an effortless laugh. “For one, it’s way too small. I want a big, two story number with floor to ceiling windows. And a loft. With a hot tub.”

  Carissa rolled her eyes and pushed at his bare leg with her toes. “You’re such a guy.”

  “Well, I’d hope so.” He squeezed her big toe when he stood and went back to the grill. “So, do you have a five-year plan or something? For this house of yours? I mean, it might be in your best interest to start talking to your intended contractor now. Make sure the plot you pick out is the best fit for the home you want.”

  “Are you hinting?” She stood and moved up beside him, watching him check the char on the steaks. Standing so close, she could smell him. His fresh, sport-scented deodorant. The laundry detergent clinging to his t-shirt. A masculine aroma that was all his own. She inhaled a slow, discreet breath, letting it warm her insides and ignite a longing deep in her belly. A strange heaviness also began to creep into her chest.

  “I’m booking up, you know.” He winked down at her. “So, if you’re hoping to get the friends and family discount and the early bird special, you’d best let me know now.”

  “Yeah? Do you offer a lovers’ discount, too?”

  He chuckled and closed the grill. “Since I don’t usually sleep with my clients, it’s not on the list of budget friendly options.”

  She twisted her lips to one side and rocked back on her heels. “Ah, I see. No sex-on-the-side deal. Bummer.”

  He angled toward her, but kept his distance, his dark blue eyes reflecting the flickering candle and his amusement. “Babe, by the time you build, you’ll have had your fill of me. And you’ll probably be hitched to some suit.”

  A stab of disappointment pierced through Carissa’s chest. He clearly had no misconceptions about the brevity of their affair. Or his ability to make a clean, uncomplicated break.

  “A suit, huh?” She ignored the sense of impending loss and, instead, rolled her eyes. Take a lesson from his book, chica, and keep this simple. Walking backwards until she felt the patio railing at her spine, she brought her beer to her lips and said huskily, “Someone hasn’t been paying attention.”

  “No?” Josh cocked his head to the side and folded his arms over his chest, showing off all of those thick, sexy muscles.

  Okay, so maybe he had tuned in...

  “I’m not really a suit kind of girl,” she whispered like it was some deep, dark secret. “But I think you know that.”

  The slightest of grins played on his lips, pairing well with the devious glint in his eyes. “I might have an idea. Though you should probably refresh my memory later.”

  Mmm, later... “How much later?”

  To that, he laughed, a deep, rich timbre that has goose bumps popping up all over her bare skin. “At least let me feed you before you ravage me.”

  She grinned and gave a sarcastic sigh. “If you must.”

  Still chuckling, he closed the space between them and slid his hands around her waist. One dipped low over her ass and the other glided up into her hair to hold her in place as he kissed her. The slow and consuming assault left her breathless and desperate for more. She whimpered her disappointment when he abruptly broke the connection and stepped away.

  “Patience, babe. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He winked before turning his attention back to their dinner. “Would you mind getting the plates out while I take these off? We can dish up inside and then come back out here if you’d like.”

  She nodded and, despite preferring him for dinner, went inside. He followed behind a minute later and they readied their plates before getting comfortable again at the patio table. For several moments, they ate in companionable silence.

  “This cream sauce is fabulous,” she complimented him, truly impressed with the finesse that appeared to be involved. “Peppercorn and...mmm, what’s the woodsy flavor?”

  “Cognac. It’s my mom’s recipe,” he said modestly. “Or at least I think it is anyway. She never made it at home that I can recall, but it was on a sticky note in the old cookbook she gave me when I first moved out on my own.”

  A warm adoration spread throughout Carissa’s chest. The second time that evening she’d felt such an awakening in that part of her body. Strange. Probably dangerous. “I have one of those cookbooks, too. I think it has more loose papers and recipe cards in it than it has actual pages. All of my mom’s best culinary creations. The pot pie last night? Her Sunday specialty.”

  “I bet. I could have eaten the entire pan.” He slid the last bite of steak into his mouth, chewed for a moment, and then sighed as he set aside his plate. “I know you were close with your mom. Did the two of you cook together a lot?”

  She nodded. “Mostly baking. Don’t tell anyone, but in Fantasyland, I’m a cupcake connoisseur. Complete with the cute, pink and white bakery and matching apron.”

  Josh narrowed his eyes and leaned forward slightly, his voice gritty. “Are you wearing your hair up in this fantasy? In one of those prim buns?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. Why?”

  “That’s hot. I might have to find you a pink and white apron.”

  “My God, you can make anything dirty, can’t you?” She tossed her paper napkin across the table, nailing him square in the face.

  He held up his hands. “Hey, your fantasy, babe. Besides, who was all hot and bothered a half hour ago, hmm?”

  She stuck out her tongue and rested back in the chair to ease her full stomach. “Let’s try to have a conversation that doesn’t involve getting sidetracked with sex talk, shall we?”

  He dipped his chin. “If you think it’s possible, then sure. Let’s give it a whirl.”

  Ha. He made it sound like having an above the skirt discussion was some kind of challenge to overcome. Surely, they were capable. Weren’t they?

  Pulling in a deep breath, she gave it her best shot. “Back to your question then...yes, my mom and I spent a lot of time together in the kitchen. And also in the garden. Cade and I also had a thing—the super exciting adventure of collecting rocks. I still have some of them. None are anything special. Yet they are, you know?”

  The shine in Josh’s eyes matched his smile. “I do.”

  She held his gaze and realized, with no small amount of trepidation, that he really did get it. Got her. As messed up as she was.

  “When you stopped in at the flip today, I was texting Cade. First time in...too long.”

  “Yeah? Why is that?” He extended his hand across the distance between them and covered her fingers with his. A small, but comforting and tender gesture.

  Carissa gulped back against the sudden thickness in her throat. “We haven’t always seen eye to eye. There might have been some hard feelings. Some bitter words.”

  Again, he nodded. So accepting of what she was willing to offer. Recognizing that it was a subject she had tremendous difficulty sharing. The quiet acquiescence told her he wouldn’t ever judge her or
her decisions, whether they were right or wrong. He’d done it with her relationship with Reed, and now he was doing it again. The pressure in her throat and chest slid around her heart and squeezed.

  “He may be at Maddie’s wedding,” she added quietly, half-tempted to tell him about Clay’s invitation as well. But she was tired and Josh was tired and any discussion about her father would require more time and energy than either of them were probably up for tonight.

  “How do you feel about that?” He shifted his hand so it was under hers and so they were palm to palm, their fingers tangled.

  How did she feel about it? “Excited?” she squeaked, hardly believing it herself. “Maybe a little scared, too?”

  With that, Josh pushed his chair back and pulled her up and over to his lap. “Come here.”

  She did, immediately curling into him, her head resting on his shoulder, her face buried in his neck. For several long moments, he just held her, one hand coursing lightly up and down her arm while the other remained intertwined with hers.

  He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be there to support you. You know that, right?”

  She bit at her bottom lip and reminded him, “A lot could happen between now and then.”

  The rough scrape of his stubble against her forehead as he swallowed made her suspect it wasn’t something he wanted to think about either. “It could. But nothing will change our friendship.”

  Twisting around to see his face, she met his gaze and took a moment to appreciate the sincerity in his eyes. So intense, so unyielding. She desperately wanted to tell him that she hoped nothing changed at all. That she’d begun to trust him in ways she hadn’t trusted anyone before. But she couldn’t let herself be so vulnerable, so naïve. Because this couldn’t last. They might remain friends, but the intimacy would fade. They’d both move on. It was inevitable.

  “Can I ravage you now?” he asked, probably sensing the tension that had begun to hum between them.