Handcuffed in Housewares: Tulle and Tulips, Book 3

by Nikki Duncan

  “Then I’d hate to see the before.” She sneezed a dainty sneeze that looked like it would be loud but instead ended in a tiny squeak of an “achoo”.

  When she sneezed twice more he smiled. It was a cute sound and she looked cute doing it.

  “I didn’t think to ask if you were allergic to anything.” He pulled a bottle of white wine and a beer from the fridge. Holding both up, he silently asked which she would prefer while he kept talking about the house. “The people who lived here before had dogs and cats. I’ve stirred up a lot of stuff while ripping things out. The sawdust doesn’t help.”

  “Beer. And I’m not allergic.”

  He’d expected her to choose the wine. Then again he’d expected her to sit and watch him bowl rather than pick up the ball and join him and her friends in the game. She was a surprising woman.

  He placed the wine back in the fridge and pulled out a beer for himself. Placing them on the island, he grabbed two mugs from the freezer. “We can go into the backyard if that will be easier. The dust is a little strong.”

  “I’m fine, really. I just need to adjust to the scent.”

  “You’re being nice.” He offered her a glass and then gestured for her to turn around. “We’ll go outside.”

  She took the mug and stayed where she was. “What if you gave me a tour instead? Show off what you’ve done so far. Tell me what you have planned for the place.”

  Leigh took a drink. After she swallowed she closed her eyes and licked the corner of her mouth like she was capturing one last drop. He couldn’t prevent the erotic images that popped into his head any more than he could stop wanting to give her a tour that ended in his bedroom.

  “You really want to do that?”

  She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I help couples plan for the lives they’re going to have. Sometimes that means I go into their home to see what they have and what they could use given the lives they want. It’s fun to see what I can learn about people by seeing their space.”

  “Then follow me, though you won’t learn much about me. I plan on selling the place, so I haven’t put any of myself in here.”

  “You can tell yourself that, but if you’re doing the work you’re putting yourself into it.”

  He led her upstairs first, telling her it was almost ready for furniture since it hadn’t needed as much work as the downstairs. He wouldn’t be furnishing it, though, since he’d sell the house and buy a new one as soon as it was refurbished.

  As he showed her around, he asked about her work. It impressed him how hands on she was in planning the registries for families-to-be. He’d assumed she would simply take people around to stores and tell them what to ask for. It made sense she would get to know the couples, see where and how they lived to know what would fit them. How else could she give them the best advice?

  “Burton,” she said as they stepped into the fourth bedroom upstairs, “I know you said this is slated as a bedroom, but with as big as it is you could turn it into a media room. Mount a big screen on that wall.” She pointed with the hand not holding her beer mug. “Get theater chairs for here and a couple of oversized bean bags to go between those chairs and the TV. Put some theater-type drapes on the windows so you can black out the room during the day.”

  He could see the room completed as she suggested, and he loved the idea. He liked the house, a lot, but had felt like something was missing to make it his. The media room could be one of the things. Except he would tweak her suggestion. “In that back corner I could put a gaming table.”

  “Sure.” She grinned. “Poker with the guys while the game’s on and the family’s downstairs or out shopping.”

  He saw it vividly. Him, Trevor and Jace sitting around the table while Leigh, Lori and Misty gossiped in the kitchen over a glass of wine. The kids would be running up and down the stairs, yelling and screaming. Their kids.

  He stumbled backward toward the door. Toward escape. He’d seen the life he’d grown up in. The life he’d wanted for himself and had thought he could have. He’d seen it all with Leigh as his wife and that scared the shit out of him. He couldn’t think about old dreams and he couldn’t pretend Leigh was the right woman just because she was handy. He was building a new life absent of complications. Marriage, and all that came with it, was the biggest of all complications.

  “You okay, Burton?”

  “Sure.” No. Lying had never been a strong suit of his. He hated lies, but he wished he could come up with one that would explain his sudden weirdness. Nothing came so he settled for ignoring it. “Let’s head back downstairs. That’s where the biggest portion of the work was needed.”

  Downstairs he showed her the informal living room and took her through the kitchen, explaining his plans for the granite countertop and appliances designed to match the cabinets. From the kitchen, he led her through a set of double glass doors he’d installed just the week before.

  “This is clever.” She ran her fingers along the chair rail he’d stripped and stained to bring out its natural grain. “You’ve closed this off at the front and back, separating it from the rest of the house so it functions as a private office while still feeling like part of the home.”

  “I needed to block the construction dust.” A second set of double glass doors were at the entrance to the living room. He could open them and anyone coming in the front door would have a direct view of the space. “And I want it to still feel like a formal living and dining area when I sell the place.”

  “Why buy something like this if you’re not going to stay? Will you really get your money back out of it?”

  “It needed some TLC. I enjoy working with my hands. And I got a great deal on the place, so yes, I’ll more than get my money back.”

  I enjoy working with my hands. Leigh stood in Burton’s office, the place where he planned his jobs and made business decisions. Dark furniture and cream-colored walls with gorgeous sconces that offered a soft light. An efficiently organized set of shelves and file drawers backed the masculine desk. A large window overlooked the immaculately landscaped and solar-lit lawn. The space was appealing enough to let her know she’d thought of the right man for Jace’s project, but as appealing as the room was it didn’t appeal to her as much as the man who’d created it.

  “You accomplished a lot in a month.”

  “I’m efficient when I’m not locked to toilets,” he said with a wink.

  He was kind, fun and funny, but there was a hesitance in him. Something that held him back from completely opening himself up, even as she suspected he was opening himself up more with her than he normally did. He was a mystery she wouldn’t mind trying to solve.

  “So you plan on buying, fixing up and selling house after house?”

  “The idea’s occurred to me.”

  She sat on the edge of the large executive desk that held only a laptop, phone, notepad and pen all precisely placed to be within easy reach. “You don’t want to put down roots?”

  “I have roots in family.”

  “Are they around here, or did you move around a lot as a kid?” That could explain his detachment to a house, because most people formed an attachment when they invested as much time and effort in a place as he already had.

  “They’re here. How about you? Where are your roots?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out. My foster family is here, and I know how I fit with them, but…” She took a long drink and sat the beer beside her.

  “But?” He sat his mug on the desk. His arm brushed hers as he moved back to lean against the wall across from her. “There’s something still missing?”

  His eyes, piercing and soulful, met hers and silently encouraged her to share her innermost feelings. She’d talked about her professional dreams with Lori and the other planners. Misty knew some of her past because they’d been in college together for a while. She didn’t normally talk about personal stuff with people.

  “But, I…” She wasn’t entirely sure what her dreams were
, but somehow, facing Burton, she suspected he’d play into her figuring them out. “Do you ever feel like you haven’t found your place? Like maybe you’re close, but haven’t quite gotten there?”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  “Ever figure out what’s missing?”

  “Nope.”

  All evening he’d been talkative and fun. Now, when they were alone and she especially wanted to know what he thought, he grew quiet… Then he stepped forward. “I’m beginning to wonder, though…”

  The spanning distance between them was minimal, but he closed each step with determination and strength.

  “Wonder what?” Energy pulsed along the air. The headlights from a car turning the corner shafted through the open blinds, illuminating Burton even more than the soft light coming from the wall sconces.

  “If maybe you’re part of what’s been missing.”

  Leigh’s heart jumped with the dull thud of each of Burton’s footfalls. It soared with the suggestion in his tone.

  Chapter Six

  Burton stopped with a foot still separating them. He scooted his feet across the hardwood floor until the toes of his shoes bumped the toes of hers. Leigh straightened off the desk so she stood before him, her pulse pumping harder.

  He reached out and pressed his palm against her cheek. The pressure of his palm was as light as the brush of his thumb beneath her jaw and as intense as the look in his brown eyes. She swore she felt him touch her soul with the look. Then, with the softest hint of flexion he pulled her to him.

  Neither of them blinked or shifted their gazes as he lowered his head and rested his forehead on hers. Staring. Breathing.

  His breaths brushed her lips with a silent encouragement to part for him. Resistance, like breathing steadily, was almost impossible. Her regular breaths became tiny inhales and with each burst of air the oxygen built up in her lungs until she feared the expulsion.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  She’d never thought of herself as overly pretty. Her hips were too wide and no matter how closely she watched her calories or how many crunches she did she couldn’t get rid of the bulge in her tummy. The way he called her beautiful, intently and intimately, and the way he looked at her, steady and starved, had her believing him.

  “I thought you were attractive the moment I saw you.” His thumb brushed rhythmically along her jaw. “Then you rescued me and saved my reputation, though you were clearly against how I ended up where you found me.”

  Her skin heated beneath his touch. She angled her chin a little higher, rubbing her forehead against his and wishing he would kiss her. Freedom was something she’d never felt with a man, especially not a man she barely knew. That she didn’t feel the need for guards with Burton, that he aroused a sense of security in her, was enlightening and scary all at once. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

  “It was to me. So much so I hated that I regretted not finding out how to contact you.”

  “Then you found me in the hardware store.”

  “And realized you’d told your friends about me.” He rubbed the side of her nose with his.

  If he was trying to draw out the tension, to make her want him more, he was succeeding. Her belly fluttered and then coiled with excited tension.

  “The idea that one of them would know Mark as well as you and that they’d say something terrified me.”

  “Are you still worried about that? Because they’ll keep your secret.”

  “No. I know that now.” Burton buried his free hand in Leigh’s hair and with a gentle tug had her bun falling from the carefully placed bobby pins.

  She exhaled a shaky breath of relief when the pin that had shifted and been pinching a hair too tightly fell to the floor. The weight of her hair tumbling around her shoulders was a luxury she only allowed herself in the privacy of her home. It made her feel sexy. He made her feel sexy.

  “They’ll give you crap every chance they get, though.”

  “Does that mean I’ll be around them more? That you want to see more of me?”

  “I think I’d like that.” He had to have heard the squeak in her voice, just as he had to know she wasn’t referring to another date.

  His fingers massaged her head, moved to the base of her scalp to the spot the bobby pin had been pinching. His touch, so heavenly, had her arching her neck. Her lips pressed against the soft flesh just below his mouth. It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed.

  Burton stooped lower and kissed her. He didn’t push or dive or plunder. It was a simple moment of lips against lips. In the simplicity rested a liberty she’d only known in her dreams. Emboldened, Leigh cupped the back of his neck and urged him to take the kiss deeper.

  He needed no more encouragement. With his right hand he continued to massage her head. With his left, he applied a smidge more pressure. She parted her lips, allowing deeper access.

  An image of him gripping her hips and planting her more firmly on the desk before plundering snapped into her mind. Instead, heartbeats stretched into long moments of exploration. She moved her hands to his neck and hair. He shifted so both hands framed her face.

  Time vanished as the intricacies of Burton’s kiss entwined Leigh. She shifted on the desk and spread her legs. He stepped in, never breaking the kiss. As much as she enjoyed kissing him, and she really enjoyed kissing him, she wanted to discover more. She wanted to discover the boundaries of her new freedom. Its sustainability.

  Releasing another reservation, Leigh put her hands at his waist and untucked his shirt. Her pinky touched his side and he shivered. His shiver thrilled and encouraged her.

  She slipped her tongue between his lips and slid it along his. On a moan that vibrated from his throat and moved through Leigh, he moved his hands to her hips.

  Another car rounded the corner. Its lights shining into the room reminded Leigh that the blinds were open. With the inside lights on anyone who passed could see them. She’d never had sex outside of her bedroom with the blinds and windows closed.

  “Burton, do you have a bedroom?”

  “Yeah.” Holding her immobile, he molded his body to hers until she had little choice but to lay back. “We’ll go there next time.”

  The man at her front was almost as hard as the desk below her. She wanted to give in to him, to let him carry her wherever he wanted. A part of her ached to be free enough. She just wasn’t built for risky sex.

  “The lights are on.”

  His lips moved in a smile as he kissed a path down her jaw. “The better to see you with.”

  “And everyone else.”

  “Huh?” He eased up enough to look at her. His lips were shiny and lightly swollen from their kisses. “Who else is there to see?”

  “Us. Everyone else can see us.”

  “There’s no one here.”

  “Outside.” He was going to make her spell it out, which meant she’d have to clue him in on how unadventurous she was as a lover.

  Spitting it out fast was the only way she’d survive the humiliation. “The blinds are open. The lights are on. It’s dark outside. Every car and person who passes can look in and see us.”

  Her cheeks flamed hotter and hotter with every syllable of every word. Even the tips of her ears heated and that only happened when she was horribly embarrassed. If she stopped, though, she would back out of the whole thing. If she backed out… She didn’t want to think about what she’d be missing if she didn’t go all the way with him.

  “Don’t move.” He didn’t ask any more questions or laugh at her or do anything to make her feel uncomfortable. He did move to the window and close the blinds with a quick pull of a chord. Turning back, he looked at her from across the room. “Better?”

  She watched him from where she still lay on the desk. She started to tell him she’d prefer a bed, but the hunger in his gaze silenced her. He’d given her the privacy she wanted without condescension or argument; she could give him the choice of location. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Movin
g back into the spot he’d left, he braced his hands on the desk on either side of her hips. Smiling, he kissed her tenderly. “Tell me when you want something.”

  Lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, she raised his shirt. She had learned to live the definition of predictability. Quiet and polite girls who never drew attention to themselves would have an easier time in foster homes. Or so her caseworker had said. She’d never tested the theory. Never wanted to.

  Until now. Until Burton.

  His touch called to her. He tempted her to an indulgence that would be anything but quiet. “I want you.”

  The temptation to scrape her nails along his back as she eased his shirt up was almost strong enough for her to taste. Given how she’d met him she didn’t think he’d mind if she gave in to the urge, but she could only surrender to so many urges a night. Tonight’s urge was being with a man she barely knew, and not in a bed.

  Growing up with three sisters had taught Burton how to read a woman’s cues. Leigh didn’t have to spell it out for him that she was very traditional in how she liked her sex. He liked traditional as much as he liked adventure, so indulging her wasn’t an issue. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to nudge her out of her comfort zone a little.

  Somehow, he figured being in his office was already enough of a shift for her.

  “I want you too. Damn, do I want you.” He ducked out of his shirt when she worked it over his head. Tossing it aside, he kept his attention on her. “I mean it, Leigh. Tell me if you want or need anything.”

  “A condom. We need a condom.”

  Her cheeks, already flushed with the glow of slight discomfort and excitement, darkened with a deepening embarrassment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet where he always put a condom when he was going out with an attractive woman—just in case.

  “I’m covered.” Or he would be.