by Mari Carr
“Wow. What’d you do? Put a stopwatch on us?”
“I’m observant. And I observed while we were kissing that you’re totally hot for me.”
“It was just a kiss.”
He shook his head. “No. It wasn’t. Do you want me to say it, Jill? I lust after you. And I’m not talking about some meek, mild lust, but a hot, heart-pounding, rock-hard-cock kind of lusting. I’m pretty sure if we explored that lust a bit we’d set the town on fire. And the attraction is definitely mutual.”
She rolled her eyes and he struggled not to laugh. No other woman on earth kept his feet so firmly on the ground. “Fine, Wes. You’re probably right. We’d burn down the house, but we’re never going to let it go that far. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t lead to anything.”
“I’m pretty fucking sure it would lead to a ton of orgasms for each of us.”
“Yeah.” She paused, and Wes suspected they were finally going to get down to the heart of the matter. Her first two reasons—weak excuses at best—had been a ruse. “Actually, that leads me to my final reason.”
He crossed his arms and struggled not to gloat. If her last reason was as lame as the first two, he had nothing to worry about.
“I know what you’re looking for, Wes, and I can’t go there. I don’t want a relationship. At all.”
That caught him unaware. “I’m sorry?” he said, unsure he’d heard her correctly.
“I’m thirty-three years old and perfectly content with my life. I’ve just now gotten to a place where I’m genuinely happy. Upsetting that status quo isn’t something I’m interested in attempting.”
“You don’t intend to date? Ever?” He thought back to what he knew about Jill. He and Rick had moved to Madison nearly five years ago and Jill had been the first friend they’d made. As he considered her words, he realized that while she went out occasionally with different guys and indulged in infrequent hook-ups with Seth Johnson, she’d never dated anyone seriously.
She narrowed her eyes, glaring. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“I tell people I don’t want a boyfriend and suddenly they’re eyeballing me like I’m a lesbian. Why is it so hard to believe that a woman might not want to tie herself to a man?”
“I don’t think it’s that hard to believe. I just don’t understand why you’re so opposed to a relationship.”
“I’m not against dating in general,” she corrected. “The problem is dating can lead to marriage and I’m definitely not putting my neck in that noose.”
“I’m not asking to marry you, Jill. I’m just asking for a date.”
She held her hands out. “Sorry. Not interested in dating you. I like my life the way it is. What can I say? I’m old and set in my ways.”
Wes narrowed his eyes. “Thirty-three is hardly old.”
“It’s old enough for me to have gotten to a nice place in my life. I’m not looking for complications. If you were interested in dating casually, I’d be your girl, but I know you, Wes. You’re a romantic at heart. You’re looking for Miss Right, and I’m not her.”
“I think you are.” Wes appreciated her candor, even though he found it hard to accept. He knew Jill. He’d never met a woman who was more comfortable in her own skin. He also knew she was being completely sincere and honest, but there was a difference between contentment and genuine happiness. He intended to show it to her.
She reached up on tiptoe to place a quick, friendly kiss on his cheek. “I know all about that dominant streak you try to hide. You like to think you’re an evolved man, and in some ways you are. But I’ve seen glimpses of your true spirit as well—the man compelled to protect, to shelter. You’re used to calling the shots because you’ve spent a great deal of your adult life doing just that. I call my own shots. Surely you can understand that.”
“I don’t want to change you, Jill, and I don’t want to take over your life. I just want to be included in your days. I want to be a part of your pleasures.”
She looked at him and he thought he saw a spark of longing before she shut it down again. She’d definitely lied about not wanting him. Unfortunately, she was stubborn as shit when she set her mind to something. He’d have to work overtime to convince her to let him into her life.
“So you’d be happy with no-strings-attached dating?” she asked.
“No.” He wasn’t going to lie about his intentions.
She turned around, shifting items on the shelf. “I knew it. I also knew you wouldn’t accept that I mean what I say about what I want. It’s why I’ve been avoiding this conversation. You just don’t listen. Typical man.” Her ranting turned to mumbling and he chuckled at her last line.
“You’re fooling yourself if you think you have all you need in life.”
She turned to face him, pressing her body against his. His chest constricted at her close proximity and it was all he could do not to pull her skirt up and show her exactly what she needed.
“I need easy. I need free. And occasionally, I need sex. You’re welcome to help me with the third any time you want, so long as you understand nothing more will come of it.” She ran her hand along his side, not stopping until she’d touched him from shoulder to upper thigh.
Narrowing his eyes, he studied her face. She was trying to call his bluff. Trying to distract him from his intentions with sex. Two could play that game.
He reached up, cupping the side of her face, pulling her close. “So now I know.”
She frowned. “Know what?”
“What’s been keeping you away from me these past few months. Fear.”
She shook her head. “I am not, nor will I ever be, afraid of you.”
Yep, she was stubborn. However, her last reason for refusing him—spoken with such assurance—left him at a loss for a rebuttal. She was hiding something. He’d have to bide his time until he figured out why she was afraid of getting too close to someone. Time to fall back and punt.
He studied her flushed face and moved closer. He brushed his lips against hers softly, quickly. “Fine, Jill. You aren’t afraid of me, and you’ve given me three reasons why you don’t want to be with me. Now it’s my turn.”
“Your turn for what?”
“To give you the three reasons why I’m not giving up on us. Reason one, you’re perfect for me. You—exactly as you are right now. Not later, after all these so-called changes you expect me to bring to your content lifestyle.”
She refused to back away, even though he still held her close. He’d always admired her courage, her spunkiness. She never backed down from a fight, which was why the distance she’d been maintaining between them had driven him crazy.
“Second, our bodies were made for each other.”
She huffed out an annoyed breath. “There’s more to life than sex, Wes.”
“I know that, which leads to my final reason. I want to date you.”
“Date me?”
“Yep. Goin’ steady. Boyfriend, girlfriend, an extra toothbrush for you in my bathroom, your side of the bed, my side of the bed. Dating.”
She appeared dumbfounded by his words, her mind playing over his completely sincere declaration.
“I think those drugs they gave you in the hospital for pain must have affected your brain. Or at the very least, your hearing. I’m. Not. Dating. You.” He grinned at the fervor behind her refusal. God, she was gorgeous. “Not now. Not ever.”
He considered the heated passion behind her words and wondered if she was soured on the idea of commitment. No one in her life had ever made it very far with that concept. Her parents had divorced when she was young. Her sister’s first marriage had gone to hell in a handbasket after six years. Rick was pushing hard to set a wedding date, but Kate was in no hurry—despite her obvious love for the man. It was inevitable that Jill would have reservations.
It was also inevitable that he would fight like hell to overcome them.
His mind was made up in regards to his future…and Jill Harper’s.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, pixie.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grasped her hips and pulled her against his erection once more. She held his gaze. “You can accept my invitation for a date now or you’ll have to suffer my concentrated seduction until you say yes.”
She grinned and for the first time since he’d entered the room, he saw the real Jill emerge. “Oh wow. It’s gonna be tough watching you fall on your ass, Wes, but I’m willing to give it a go.”
He laughed and released her. “Here.” He pulled the help wanted sign out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She took it, looking down at the folded paper. “What’s this?”
“You’re looking at your new handyman.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, I’m not. I—”
“Pixie, I think you underestimate me.”
“What do you mean?”
“If this is a battle we’re waging, you’re going to face me on the field every day.”
She swallowed heavily, but he could see her considering his comments. Jill never backed down from a dare. She was every bit as competitive as he was. She wouldn’t run away any longer.
“I need a handyman, not a lover.”
“You know I’m perfectly qualified to work here as your handyman and while I’m at it, I’m gonna show you how very wrong you are about everything you just said. I’m going to prove to you exactly how perfect we are for each other and I’m definitely going to change your mind about all three of those damn reasons why.”
Chapter 2
Jill slammed her fist against the stuck drawer, cursing under her breath as Cheryl walked into the kitchen with a tray full of dirty dishes.
“Damn, girl. Is it your time of the month or did you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? I’ve never seen you so pissed off.”
“It’s this stupid fucking drawer. It won’t open.”
Cheryl stopped and placed her tray on the counter. “You gotta hit it directly on the left corner,” she said, banging the drawer. It popped open, and Jill fought the urge to smack the smug grin off her friend’s face.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Cheryl chastised. “You’re the one who taught me how to open it. Now why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“The men’s room toilet is clogged, and I can’t find one lousy plumber in this godforsaken town to come fix it.”
“Um, Jill,” Lottie said through the order window, “now the women’s toilet is clogged too.”
Jill turned and scowled at the young waitress, who hastily backed away to continue refilling the salt and pepper shakers.
Cheryl placed a comforting hand on Jill’s shoulder. “Now, honey, before you get upset, you might want to reconsider Wes’s offer to help.”
“No,” she replied sharply.
“Why not? Ever since Seth stopped working around here, we’ve been letting some things slide. It’s time to start getting these repairs done or the place is gonna fall down on our heads.”
“It’s not that bad,” Jill said, though she knew Cheryl’s words were true. Every day, something else in the old building stopped functioning. If they didn’t start taking control of the situation, they’d end up having to shut down for major renovations.
Cheryl raised her eyebrows. “What’s your problem with Wes?”
“Who says I have a problem with him?”
“He’s the answer to a prayer, and you know it,” Cheryl replied. “We need help, Jill Harper, and Wes has offered it. I just don’t get it. You’ve got yourself a six-foot Adonis practically begging to help and you’re saying no.”
“Adonis,” Jill scoffed.
“With that dark brown hair and deep green eyes. Mmm. I’m old enough to be that boy’s mother and he still melts my butter. What is it about him that bothers you so much?”
Jill crossed her arms and tapped her toe. “For your information, Wes Robson does not bother me.”
“I certainly hope not,” came Wes’s deep voice from behind her. He’d come in the back entrance. “I mean, in my defense, I just got here. Unless, of course,” he added, walking up so close behind her, Jill could feel his warm breath in her hair, “it’s the ‘hot and bothered’ kind of bothering. Then I don’t mind so much. Hell, I could even take care of that for you. I am a very handy man. Is your butter melting, Jill?”
“You knew he was behind me,” Jill accused her friend, but Cheryl merely gave her a mischievous grin.
“Why are you here?” Jill muttered to Wes, refusing to turn around to look at the damn man who was melting a hell of a lot more than butter in her body.
“I’ll just let you two sort this out.” Cheryl waved and headed for the door. “Breakfast shift is over. I’m locking the front door and going up to my apartment. If you don’t find somebody to fix those toilets pronto, we might as well dump the lunch special in the garbage and leave the doors locked, because there’s no way we can open. Lottie,” she called out as she left, “wanna come upstairs and watch The View with me?”
Jill listened as her two waitresses tromped up the stairs, then she turned to watch Wes put a toolbox on the counter.
“Toilet problems?” he asked.
“Dammit, Wes, I mean it. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to work,” he replied.
“That’s funny. I don’t recall hiring you.”
She constantly struggled to recapture the wits he wiped away simply by being in the same room. She prided herself on being an independent, intelligent woman, but two minutes in his presence always reduced her to a quivering mass of goo. Damn if she didn’t want him, and she was usually not the type of girl to deny herself her pleasures. However, in Wes’s case, giving in would be the very worst thing she could do, and for reasons she hadn’t shared with him yesterday.
Undeterred, Wes opened up his toolbox and started digging through his tools. “Cheryl mentioned a drawer that’s sticking and a clogged drain here in the kitchen, but it sounds like I’d better tackle the restrooms first.”
“Stop ignoring me as if I’m not speaking. I’m not hiring you.”
“Why not?”
His question caught her off-guard. She knew Wes was a jack-of-all-trades and that he was perfectly capable of doing most of the small jobs she needed taken care of. Since he’d resigned from the DEA, he was looking for work. Rick had been his partner on the force, and he’d managed to forge his new career by opening up a small bike shop.
“I don’t have a lot of extra money to hire someone on.” It was a lie, but she grasped it with both hands.
“You advertised for the position.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Yeah, well, I mean it would only be part time.”
“I didn’t plan on setting up office hours or draining your accounts, pixie.”
Jill picked up the phonebook and glanced at the list of plumbers. She’d exhausted her options and she knew it. Madison had two full-time plumbers and at this moment, one of them was at a convention in Vegas and the other had pneumonia. It would cost a fortune to pay one to come out from Harrisburg for an emergency call. With the distance between Madison and its larger neighboring city, the plumber still wouldn’t make it here in time for her to open for lunch.
“Fine. You can fix the toilets.”
Wes laughed. “What an honor.”
“But that’s it. You’re not going to be my handyman.”
Wes shook his head and walked closer. She fought the urge to take a step back, refusing to let him intimidate her as he had yesterday. She’d had time to batten down her hatches and prepare herself for the onslaught.
“I’ll fix your toilets, but only on two conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“One, you hire me in this position for good, and two, you agree to my wages.”
She was silent as she tried
to find a way out of her predicament. Surely there was some way she could get the repairs done without selling her soul to the devil. She racked her brain but came up with nothing.
Her love for the diner won out. She needed help and, God help her, Wes Robson appeared to be the only man in town available to fulfill her needs. As soon as the word needs crossed her mind, a flush heated her cheeks. She had some definite needs she could envision Wes fulfilling. Of course, Wes noticed her blush immediately and grinned.
Before he could say anything, she asked, “How much do you want?”
“Are you hiring me?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “I’m hiring you. How much do you charge an hour?”
“I don’t come cheap,” he teased her.
She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “How much, Wes?”
“For every hour of work I do around the diner, you agree to spend one hour alone with me.”
Her eyes snapped open. This was bad. Very, very bad. “I’d rather pay you money.”
“No. I don’t want money from you.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “If you think I’m going to trade sexual favors for—”
“I didn’t say sex. I said an hour alone with me.”
“Doing what?”
“Dating, of course. Going out for drinks, dancing. Hell, we could rent a movie and watch it in your apartment for all I care. And if you feel so inclined as to have sex with me, that would be cool too.” His eyes were dancing, and she knew he was enjoying that—in this instance—he definitely had the upper hand.
“Dating,” she repeated, her body going a bit numb at the idea. She was fighting a losing battle. She closed her eyes, silently hoping that blocking out his gorgeous face would help her resist.
For weeks, she’d dreamed of Wes’s kisses under the mistletoe. His lips should be registered as a lethal weapon. More than a few nights, she’d crawled from her bed into the shower, forcing herself to stand beneath the freezing water in an attempt to cool the burning desires he’d set aflame inside her. “I’m sorry. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I tell you just yesterday that I didn’t want to date you?”
