by Ally Summers
Kyle looked up from the bathtub. Whitney was holding a glass of ice water in his direction.
“Thought you might need a break.” She placed the glass on the counter.
“Thanks.” He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “I should have the leak fixed for you once this caulking dries.” He stepped out of the tub.
“So my shower was the culprit?”
He nodded, chugging the water. “Yep. The water was seeping between the tiles. But I’ve re-grouted the entire wall and this will seal it.”
She twisted her lips against her teeth. Holy hell. She had no idea how that made his cock jerk to life. He would have taken a step back, but the bathroom was small and there wasn’t anywhere to turn.
“That’s a relief.” She smiled.
He was glad that when he returned from the hardware store she seemed less angry. He had found her wrapping up the meeting with the realtor. He wanted to ask what the verdict was on the listing, but he knew it wasn’t any of his damn business.
The realtor had left her with a folder and a stack of business cards. Kyle couldn’t imagine this place ending up in someone else’s hands. He would do whatever he could to help her keep it. He just didn’t know how he would convince her yet.
“Hey, I’m going to the grocery store. I might be gone awhile. Any requests?”
“Surprise me.” He winked. He knew he was flirting, but his damn bear was getting impatient. He wanted to lure her in. He wanted to touch her. He wanted her in his bed.
“Oh, all right.” She wiggled past the grout bucket. “Be back soon.”
Kyle turned back to the tub. “Work,” he growled. “Just fucking work.”
That night he ate quickly, praising Whitney’s cooking before running for the barn. She had brought out another bottle of wine, but he turned down the glass she offered. He would wait until she fell asleep before he headed back to the house for a shower.
Being around her was killing him. It was torture to know his mate was right in front of him, but he couldn’t take her. He couldn’t make her his.
He needed a side project. Something to keep his hands busy. Otherwise they were going to end up on her.
The workshop in the barn was well equipped with tools. He rummaged through the supplies, examining a stack of teak wood stashed under a cabinet. He held one of the pieces between his hands. It was good wood. The veins of the cut would make a nice piece of furniture.
He turned to the saw and came up with a plan. This would be perfect. He drew out a plan and got to work.
A few hours later he climbed the stairs to the apartment. The wind had picked up and Kyle looked out the window, waiting for Whitney’s bedroom light to go black. The branches around him swayed. Finally, the light went out. He picked up his shaving kit and made the trek across the yard.
This was the way it had to be for now. He let himself in the house, listening for any sounds that Whitney might be awake.
He walked to the bathroom, locked the door behind him, and started the shower. He tried to ignore the fact that one story up his mate was sleeping in her bed. The woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with was up there. Only she didn’t know it. And if she did, she might hate him for it.
10
Whitney
Kyle had been at the house for three weeks. Whitney kneeled on the porch, running a paintbrush over the new wooden beams he had used to replace the rotting pieces.
She couldn’t figure him out. She couldn’t figure any of it out. He had landed on her doorstep ready to do anything she asked. Some sort of gift from Sam.
The light switch in her room worked. The step had been replaced. The dryer didn’t make a rattling sound anymore. Her shower didn’t leak. The gate opened. The porch swing was hung. Right now he was on the roof, tacking down new shingles.
Every morning they had breakfast together. Every afternoon lunch. And at night she made dinner. Not just any dinner. She tried recipes she had never attempted. French sauces. Grilled combinations with special spices. She dusted off her old cookbooks. She did everything she could to impress him with her cooking. But after every meal he cleaned the kitchen and hit the door for the barn.
It didn’t make any sense. His eyes were always on her. She hadn’t been with many men, but she knew when eyes were undressing her. And Kyle Brake was always undressing her.
She shoved the paintbrush back in the can and stood back to examine her work. Once the paint dried it would blend in with the rest of the railing.
“Hey.”
She heard his voice over her shoulder. She spun around.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He grinned. “Done on the roof.”
“How did you do that so fast?” The bridge of his forehead was sweaty. Damn he was the sexiest sweaty man she had ever seen.
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought. But I did notice some flashing missing around the chimney. I’m going to head to the store and get some. Be back.”
“Want me to ride with you?” she offered.
“Nah. I got it.”
She watched him climb into his Jeep and speed off down the driveway. She put her hands on her hips. Maybe there wasn’t much to figure out. Kyle wasn’t interested. The sooner she accepted that, the easier it would be to spend time with him every day.
She had been dreading it, but Sam’s room wasn’t going to pack itself. She pushed open the door, armed with cardboard boxes and a trash bag.
“I can’t believe you left me this mess,” she spoke to the empty room.
Once Sam joined the Army, he had made the house his legal residence and moved everything from his apartment into this bedroom. He said there was no reason to keep an apartment or to buy another house. He was a drifter as long as he was a Ranger.
He didn’t accumulate much, but the closet was full of high school football trophies. Whitney pulled a stack of yearbooks from the top shelf. She dusted them off and put them on the bed.
There was a box on the floor, under his winter coats. She opened the top flap. It was full of Ranger school manuals. She sat on the floor, looking through everything her brother had saved.
What if Sam hadn’t joined the Army? She looked at the pictures of him in his uniform. He was a handsome guy, but she never would have told him that. It would have gone straight to her older brother’s head.
She wiped away a tear.
“Whitney?” She heard Kyle’s voice outside the door. He stepped into the room. “There you are. I’m back from the store.”
He stopped. His eyes landed on the pictures in her lap, the tears streaming down her face.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” His chest puffed forward and his eyes immediately darted to the window. He scanned the room.
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I thought I’d pack up Sam’s things, but maybe I shouldn’t. It’s too soon, but I’ve got to clean this stuff out of here.”
“Oh.” He lowered his voice. He took a step toward her, crouching to the floor so they were eye level.
She caught her breath when he reached for her face and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “What did you find?” he asked.
It was tender and sweet. His skin was warm.
“Maybe you can help me.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The world had felt dark and sad, and then he walked into the room. His wide shoulders making her feel protected. His eyes full of concern. His touch gentle.
“Sure. What do you have?” He sat next to her.
She shoved the manuals in his lap. “Do I need to save these?”
He looked down at the manuals and chuckled. “He kept these?” He flipped open the first one.
“Are they important?” she asked.
“Not really. It’s just basic intro school stuff. It’s not like there are any classified secrets in here.” He seemed to enjoy looking through the manual. “Man, I forgot our instructor’s name.”
“Were you in this class with Sam?”
“Y
eah. It was our first class together. Who knew we’d end up on the same team?”
“Was anyone else from that class on your team?”
“No. Half of them didn’t make it through the training. Then after that one, there was another Special Forces school. The graduation rate isn’t very high.” He eyed her and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
“Sam didn’t tell me much.”
“I’m sure he wanted to. We can’t share much about we do.” His voice was thick and husky and sitting this close to him, she was feeling her skin begin to tingle.
She picked up a stack of pictures from the box. “Do you know who any of these guys are?”
Kyle shuffled through them, pausing every once and awhile. “Yeah, I knew a few of these guys.” He handed them back to her.
“Do you want them?” she offered. “I don’t know who they are. You can keep them if you like.”
“No. It’s better if I don’t get attached to things. I travel lightly. Everything I have fits in my Jeep.”
Her forehead creased. “Well, that’s kind of a sad way to live. You don’t keep pictures? Or what about books? Family mementos? You must have at least one Christmas ornament.”
He shook his head. “Tools and clothes. That’s it. I can’t afford to put down more roots than that right now.”
Suddenly her chest felt heavy. If Kyle Brake wasn’t the definition of unavailable she didn’t know what man was.
“Oh. All right.” She threw everything back in the box and tossed the manuals on top. “I think I’ll do this another time.”
“You sure? I can take it to the burn pile for you.”
“I can’t burn my brother’s things.” She knew how angry she sounded and she didn’t care. How could he even suggest it? The fury had surfaced before she could even think about controlling it.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He put his hands in the air. “I think I’ll just get back to the roof. I’ve got to get the flashing up before it rains again.”
And before she could apologize he was gone.
“Damn it,” she whispered.
11
Whitney
Another week passed and Whitney decided she couldn’t take it anymore.
Kyle would walk in a room and her body would light up like a Christmas tree. He’d walk out and she’d feel the disappointment wash over her.
There was a moment, sitting on the floor in Sam’s room when she thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t. He hadn’t touched her again. It was all she could think about.
She had to put a stop to it. Now.
She sat across from him at the kitchen table.
She watched his expression as he took a bite. She wanted to see that grin. The one that said he loved the way it tasted on his tongue. The one that said he was happy with what she had made for him.
The corners of his mouth turned. “God, this is good.” He heaped more pasta on his fork.
“I’m glad you like it.” She couldn’t put up sheetrock, but she could cook. She smiled at him over her wine glass.
“What do you call it?”
“It’s one of my special dishes,” she teased. She wasn’t about to tell him she had spent the entire afternoon whipping up a cream sauce that would seduce him. She had to use the skills she had.
“So are you going to tell me the big secret you’ve been keeping?” He eyed her.
“S-secret?”
Oh God, he knew she had a massive crush on him. He knew she was finding him in her dreams every night. He knew when she looked at him all she could think about was what his mouth would feel like on hers. He knew she wanted him.
“There is definitely something you’re not telling me.” He paused. “No one can just cook like this.”
She sighed. “Oh, my cooking. Right.” She didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed that he had guessed the wrong secret.
“I used to own a restaurant in Seattle.”
“You did? Well I guess that explains a lot. Why haven’t you mentioned it?”
“Because it burned to the ground. I don’t have it anymore.”
His eyes widened. The blue flecks intense. “What happened?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “They ruled it an electrical malfunction in the breaker box. I lost the entire building.” She reached for the wine.
“Wow. I’m sorry, Whitney. I had no idea.”
“It happened right before I got the news about Sam. He didn’t even know about it yet.”
“What did you do?”
“I ended up here.”
“It shouldn’t have happened. You didn’t deserve any of this.” His voice grew louder. He clenched his fork.
“Between the insurance nightmare with the restaurant and this place falling down I think I’ve been hiding out.” God, it felt good to talk about it. She had felt guilty talking about the restaurant, as if that somehow diminished Sam’s death. But Kyle seemed to get it.
“You’ve been doing this all on your own.”
“Until you showed up,” she whispered.
This could be her chance. The moment when she told him that since he appeared on her porch her life had started to come back together. There was warmth. There was happiness. There was a future if he wanted it.
“Did you used to serve this in your restaurant?” he asked, twirling more noodles on his fork.
Maybe it wasn’t the moment.
She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t on the menu.”
“You could charge a hundred dollars a plate for this.” He walked to the kitchen island and added a second serving to his plate.
She blushed, loving how much he was enjoying it.
“Have you thought about staying here and opening a new restaurant nearby?”
“No. I can’t think about work until I get the house taken care of. Besides, you’ve seen the hardware store. It’s not like there’s much here. I don’t think there are enough people to get a business up and going. It’s so remote.”
“True. But I bet people would drive hours just to taste this.”
She giggled. “Well if I do open another restaurant I will make you my marketing manager.”
“You should do it, Whit.”
The way he said her name sent chills along her arm. Her skin prickled. He had never used her nickname before. It sounded casual. It sounded intimate.
“Since I lost the last one I haven’t been able to think about it. The house. Sam.” She could go on with the list of things that had happened since the restaurant fire.
“You’ve had a lot on your plate.”
She nodded. Things had crumbled around her, but suddenly there was something she wanted. It had come out of nowhere. Out of a cloud of grief and confusion. But he was sitting across from her.
Two months ago she never would have believed she would have something to look forward to, but the longer she was around Kyle, the more she wanted him to be a part of her life. She had a purpose. A reason to smile. A reason to cook. A reason to let her heart take another chance. He had been healing her for the past month and he didn’t even know it.
He broke the comfortable silence. “I thought tomorrow I could try to make a plan for the bathroom in the apartment.”
“Really?”
“If you want me to. I think it would be easy to finish it.”
She wanted the bathroom to be finished. It would help with selling the property, but she would by lying if she said she didn’t enjoy Kyle’s daily shower stops downstairs. She was running out of excuses to catch a glimpse of him in his towel every morning.
“Oh sure. I think it would be great to have it finished. That was the plan.” She placed her wine glass next to her plate.
“If you want to look at some pictures and pick out a shower and sink, that would help. I can order anything you want.”
“Oh. Ok.” She watched him eat everything on his plate.
“I don’t know how long it will take to get here, though. They don’t exactly have express
service at the hardware store.”
She laughed. “No. Definitely not.”
He stood from the table. “Thanks for dinner.” He took the plates to the counter and started his nightly ritual of loading the dishwasher.
“You’re welcome.” She sat while he rinsed the plates and scrubbed the pans.
“I think it was my favorite dish so far.” He smiled at her, closing the dishwasher with his foot. “I’m going to call it a night.”
Whitney nodded. “Good night, Kyle.”
“Good night.”
And then he was gone. The house felt colder. The kitchen quieter. She finished the last few sips of wine. Damn. Once the bathroom was finished, that would be it. There would be nothing left keeping him here. She had to do something to change that.
12
Kyle
He ran his fingers through his hair. His bear was losing it. Four weeks was a lot to ask him. But he was trained in self-control. He was trained in patience. He was trained to wait for his target. His bear had to fucking wait. This was not the time to take a mate.
One month with Whitney had almost made him forget his mission in Razastan wasn’t over. He still had to go back.
The bathroom was the last project. He had tried to find more things to do at the house, but he had tackled everything on the list Whitney had given him.
He paced in the apartment. There was no way he could sleep. He jogged down the steps to the workshop below. He was finished with his project, but it could use another sanding. He wanted it to be perfect.
He flipped on the light over the workbench, reaching for sandpaper.
He peeled back the sheet and started working, smoothing out the grooves and rough spots.
Kyle looked at his phone. It was after midnight. His hair was full of sawdust. It was caked under his nails, and stuck to the stubble on his chin. Whitney would be asleep by now. He walked to the house and slipped into the bathroom. He washed the sawdust down the drain before heading back to the barn.
