“Go home.” Zach tipped his head down to look her in the eyes. “Get some rest.”
A faint smile spread across her face. “I have work. I have a showing in an hour and a closing at the end of the day at the bank. I’m too busy, but your concern touches me. Sometimes I wonder how much you care.”
He cared. More than he should.
Kissing her softly on her forehead, Zach stepped back, physically and emotionally. There was no other option.
“After you’re off work, go home and rest. Don’t worry about this place and don’t worry about the grants. Everything will work out, but you working yourself to death won’t help any of us.”
A hint of a smile flitted around the corner of her lips. “You need me. Admit it.”
If only she knew how much. He couldn’t even fully wrap his mind around the extent to which he needed her.
“Liam’s due here in a day or so,” he told her. “So we’ll have all hands on deck for a while. You better rest up while you can.”
When he turned to walk away, she called his name. He froze, glancing over his shoulder. The sight of her radiant smile had his breath catching in his throat, a bad tightening around his chest. Damn it. What was he going to do with all these feelings he had zero control over? He had no clue where to put them all, because dumping them on anyone was impossible.
“Thank you for doing this,” she told him. “Chelsea would love seeing her brothers coming together and working as a team. I know a women’s resort isn’t your ideal project and the renovations are just the beginning, but . . . thanks.”
He tried not to think too much beyond the renovations, because if he started focusing on chemical peels and hot stone whatevers, he’d run away and never look back.
Zach nodded and headed back toward the bathroom. He needed to make sure Sophie took care of herself, because she would put everything ahead of her own needs. She would do all she could for Chelsea’s dream to come true; that’s what made Sophie so special. She didn’t care that her parents had frowned upon the Monroe kids, she didn’t care that she had a prosperous business to keep running, and she didn’t care that she would be working closely with a man she’d fallen in love with.
Zach stopped in the hallway and placed his hand on the wall. He needed support. She’d never come out and said she loved him, but he’d seen it in her eyes when they’d been in his bed. The woman couldn’t mask her emotions. Now he just needed to figure out how to keep from hurting her . . . again.
But more so, he needed to figure out how to stop from falling in love with her.
* * *
Surprisingly, her hip wasn’t killing her tonight. After the day she’d had, she’d managed to get through the showing, another unscheduled showing, and a closing, all without the accustomed annoyance.
Still, she was nearly crawling from sheer exhaustion by the time she pulled into her drive. When she spotted the familiar truck parked in her spot, her heart did a little flip. What was he doing here? She couldn’t ignore the flutter of nerves in her belly . . . nerves she’d never experienced with any other man. Not that there had been many, but these nerves had Zach’s name all over them. They always had.
She pulled in behind him and grabbed her bag. By the time she let herself in the back door, she was smiling. Somehow he’d let himself in, but she wasn’t questioning or complaining because her house smelled amazing.
“I have no clue what you’re making, but I’ve never been so happy to have a trespasser.”
Turning from the stove, Zach held a wooden spoon in one hand and had some type of red sauce in his beard. Sophie laughed, hung her bag on the post by the back door, and crossed the tiled floor.
“Sampling the goods?” she asked, reaching up to swipe her finger over the coarse hair.
“What?” he asked, then spotted her finger. “Oh yeah. It’s ready. Perfect timing.”
She licked her finger and oh, mercy. The man could cook too? Did he have to be so imperfectly perfect? Couldn’t his flaws be annoying? Instead, all his faults were either adorable, like the sauce in the beard, or heart-wrenching, like the prison he continued to keep himself in regarding his past.
Either way, the closer she got to him, the sexier he became.
“Hope you like spaghetti.” He flicked a burner off and started looking through her cabinets. “It’s really all I know really well.”
Sophie reached beneath her center island and pulled out two plates, setting them on top of the granite. “As long as I don’t have to make it, you could’ve made me a bologna sandwich.”
Grabbing the plates, he started scooping up healthy portions. “Now you tell me.”
Normally she had wine with pasta, or wine with anything really, but she wasn’t about to pull out alcohol with Zach there. Not that he had a drinking problem. As far as she knew he hadn’t touched the stuff since that night, or that’s what Chelsea had once told her. But she wasn’t going to be disrespectful.
“I made some tea yesterday,” she told him, glancing through her fridge. “Does that work for you?”
“Fine.”
By the time they sat on the bar stools at her island eating area, her exhaustion from the day had practically faded. With Zach in her kitchen, looking more at home than he should and playing the domestic king beautifully, she’d suddenly gotten her second wind.
“Your cat darted off as soon as I came in.”
“He’s not overly friendly. He’ll come out when he wants me to feed him.”
“I picked your lock.” He forked up a hearty bite. “You need new locks, by the way. I got in way too easy.”
“Haven isn’t known for its high crime rate.” She spread her napkin out over her lap and picked up her fork and knife. “And if someone wants in to cook me dinner, I’m not going to make it more difficult.”
She took a small bite, nearly groaning at the amazing flavor of the sauce. When Zach didn’t have a snarky comeback, she glanced his way.
“What?” she asked after she’d swallowed.
Using his fork, he pointed to her lap and spoke around a mouthful of food. “Your manners are a bit different than mine.”
She realized exactly what he meant. “Yeah, well, if you’d been reprimanded for having your elbows on the table or not properly using your utensils, you’d be brainwashed too.”
Zach slid her napkin from her lap and tossed it on the counter. Then he reached over and took the knife from her grasp and set it aside as well.
“There. Now you can eat comfortably.”
Sophie stared at him as he dug back into his dinner. “What if I get something on my skirt?”
“Take it off.”
“And sit here in my underwear?”
He grunted as he chewed. Yeah, a bit different than dinners she was used to with other people. Even when she ate in front of her television, she still had her lap protected and her fork and knife. Years of being ingrained with the importance of table manners wasn’t something she really thought about, she just ate the way she was taught.
“You’re not eating,” Zach stated, dropping his fork to his plate. “You don’t like it, or are you not sure what to do now that I took away your manners?”
Intrigued, Sophie tipped her head. “Does that bother you? My manners?”
“No, but you’re in your own home. Relax.”
He went on to finish his plate and get a second helping. Sophie got through her meal without dropping a hunk of sauce onto her skirt. Now, had she been wearing white, she would’ve been wearing the sauce for sure.
She started to stack the plates, but Zach covered her hand with his. “Go and sit down. I’ll do the dishes.”
“You cook, you clean, you build houses.” Sophie smiled. “What can’t you do?”
He laughed. “I can’t swim.”
Sophie laughed, then realized he wasn’t joking. “Seriously?”
Zach shook his head and gathered the dishes. “I probably could if my life depended on it, but before I came to li
ve with the Monroes, I never went to a pool, so I just never had a desire by the time I came to live here.”
“I’ll teach you,” she promised him. “And you won’t even have to come to one of my classes, either.”
“I’d best stay out of the pool.”
Zach never talked about his time before the Monroes. Ever. At least not with her, and Chelsea had been pretty tight-lipped about it as well, so Sophie had never pushed. She couldn’t help but wonder what made him so talkative tonight, or what had made him push his way into her home and make dinner. Not that she was upset about either, just curious.
She watched him move about her kitchen, cleaning and stacking dishes in the sink. No man had ever made her dinner, let alone in her own kitchen.
“You’re still in here.” Without turning around, he ran a sink full of sudsy water. “Go into the living room and relax.”
“What if I’m relaxed right here watching you?”
Throwing a slight grin over his shoulder, he shrugged. “You have a warped way of relaxing.”
Not if her version included a sexy man doing domestic chores. She was relaxed and aroused . . . a lethal combo with Zach in the house.
“How are the pups?” she asked.
“Well, they like my room.” He rinsed a pan and stacked it in the drying rack in the sink. “I talked to the vet earlier. She said she may have found a home for two of them when it’s time, but I need the other five adopted out as well as the mom.”
“Why don’t you keep her?” Sophie suggested.
Zach drained the water, grabbed a towel, and wiped his hands before turning to face her. “And what would I do with a dog?”
Sophie shrugged. “Same thing you’ve been doing. Love her.”
“Do I look like a dog person?”
Biting the inside of her cheek, Sophie still couldn’t suppress the smile. “You looked like a dog person when you were cuddled up with her.”
“Funny.” He crossed to the island and leaned on his forearms. “Why don’t you take a puppy?”
“Me?” She’d not really thought about it. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it when I was at work.”
“Take it with you,” he suggested. “You’ve got that park across the street. You could take it on walks when you had a break. You know you want one.”
That little one had cuddled against her neck when she’d carried it to his bedroom. Even his little puppy breath was adorable. But Flynn would not be happy. Granted, Flynn didn’t socialize much with Sophie, so most likely her grouchy cat would ignore a dog too. For a while she could keep them separated while she was gone, just until they grew more accustomed to each other.
“You’re considering it,” Zach said with a smile. “Boy or girl? I’ve got both.”
Sophie groaned and came to her feet. “You should’ve been a salesman. Give me a girl. I don’t want a boy hiking all over my furniture.”
Zach laughed. “And you think a female will hold her piss?”
“I don’t know,” she cried, throwing her arms up. “Just give me any of them. They’re all adorable.”
Zach sighed and glanced around the room. “I’m going to head home and let them out. I’ll be sure to save you one when the time comes to find homes.”
“You’re leaving?” she asked, lifting her brows. “Why don’t you stay for a bit?”
His heated gaze nearly sizzled her from across the center island. The man was that fast, that powerful . . . that potent. He could stop her with a look and have arousal shooting through her entire body.
“You afraid I can’t keep my hands to myself?” she joked. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t promise because my best behavior would still have you stripped in no time.”
The veiled promises made her shiver.
“Seriously.” She rested her palms on the granite top and leaned forward. “Just stay. I like talking with you, Zach. This has been good. We can even discuss the Sunset Lake property if that would be better. Just . . . don’t go.”
He held her gaze and said nothing. Finally he nodded. “We’re discussing the property only.”
Sophie wanted to jump off the stool and skip into the living room, but she felt that might be a bit overkill. Still, she felt as if she’d achieved some grand victory. This was such progress . . . Granted, they’d slept together, but they were making headway beyond physical. She wanted more though, and if all she could get was friendship and an evening of working on this project, she’d absolutely take it.
She led him to the living room and took a seat on her favorite oversized floral chair. The pattern was muted, but it was still an accent chair she’d fallen in love with at an estate sale. She couldn’t wait to start finding rare gems for Chelsea’s place. Her late friend wouldn’t have wanted everything to come from a cookie-cutter store.
Zach sank onto the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table, boots and all. Sophie smiled. Her mother would’ve absolutely died at the sight, but Sophie didn’t care a bit. A home should be a place people were comfortable, and Sophie wanted Zach to feel comfortable here. She wanted him to come back, to let himself in, and think of her as a friend. If that’s all she could get, she wasn’t going to turn it away.
“So what’s the overall plan,” she asked, curling her feet up in the chair beside her. Smoothing her skirt down her thighs, she didn’t miss where Zach’s eyes had gone. “Do you have a goal in mind when you want to be finished, or are you thinking that far ahead yet?”
Zach sighed and tipped his head back. “I know when I’d like to be done, but I’m not sure it will happen. I’d love to be ready to go with the business by fall so we can work on Christmas specials or gift certificates.”
Sophie smiled, rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, and propped her chin on her fist. “Sounds like a true businessman already working. But I agree. If you can get some buzz going and you’re up and running before Christmas, think of all the gift certificates or the New Year’s bookings you’ll have.”
“We have a lot of work, and there’s always unforeseen circumstances as well as shipments that don’t come in on time.” Zach glanced down at his boots and lifted them from the table. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re fine. Put them up there. It’s a table, Zach. It’s not white sheets at Buckingham Palace.”
“Talk to me about your vision for the decorating, and beyond, into the actual rooms of the resort.” He shifted, bringing his arm up and stretching it along the back cushions, his boots remaining on the floor. “I just want to make sure we’re still all on board with everything.”
She’d decorated that place over and over in her mind. She’d go from her tastes to Chelsea’s. Sophie had to keep reminding herself she had to do what her friend would’ve wanted. And Chelsea loved all things vintage or Paris-related. Both themes could blend beautifully together and be done in a tasteful way that would appeal to women of all ages.
“I think the main floor should be kept as a community-type area,” she told him. “You have the kitchen, the main bathroom, the foyer, and a beautiful sitting room. Then there’s the room that appeared to have been a library. Why not keep that as such? Women love to read. We can keep the latest copies of popular books in there.”
When Zach didn’t respond she took that as a sign that he didn’t hate the idea.
“The glass room that overlooks the pond, I think we need to make that the eating area. It’s close to the kitchen and the view is breathtaking.”
Zach nodded. “I agree. Braxton had already planned that in his notes that he passed to me.”
“What are your thoughts on the two cottages?” she asked. “Are we planning on renting those for a higher price? Have those as the gold star of weekend getaways?”
“That’s what I assumed we would do. Chelsea’s notes were pretty specific when it came to those houses.” Zach laughed. “She was so laid-back about everything in her life, but when it came to this property, she
knew what she wanted and kept detailed descriptions, didn’t she?”
Sophie ran her fingertip over the tonal pattern of her chair. “That proves to us how important this place was to her. We really need to stick as close to her wishes as possible.”
“I plan on it.”
“I’ve been researching various spas and resorts in my downtime.”
Zach eyed her, quirking a brow. “And when is that? Because as far as I’ve seen, you have no downtime.”
Leveling her gaze, she replied, “Are you the pot or the kettle?”
Shrugging, Zach glanced around the room. She knew what he was looking at. The pencil sketches. She had them all over her home. She couldn’t count the number of drawings she’d done over the last ten years. Some she framed, some she gave away to random people and friends, some she had in a folder in her dresser drawer.
“I want these in the house,” he told her, his eyes coming back to land on her. “No matter what else, I want you to do some sketches for the house. Maybe one in each bedroom, and definitely the entryway. Maybe a grouping or whatever you want.”
She swallowed. Did he realize she’d used the sketches to recover from the accident as a form of mental therapy? If he was aware, Sophie knew he wouldn’t be asking her, but she didn’t mind one bit. She loved drawing and Chelsea had loved the simple designs too.
“I’d best get started now,” she joked. “Anything else?”
“Sorry,” he said with a slight cringe. “I don’t know how long one takes you.”
Sophie swung her feet down, shifted to the other side of the chair, and pulled her feet back up. “Depends on my mood, how much I need the relaxation, and if I already know what the subject will be.”
“I’ll leave everything up to you when it comes to the sketches,” he assured her.
“Well, I was thinking for the bedrooms, maybe they should each be a theme. You know, one could be Paris, one could be London. Whatever. Chelsea was so prone to take off and travel, but she never got to the places she truly wanted to see. Why don’t we do each room as one she’d had on her bucket list?”
When he remained silent, she wasn’t sure if he was processing the information or afraid to reject her ideas for fear of hurting her feelings.
Wrapped in You Page 20
