“Got it,” she said to reassure him. “So why aren’t you wearing gloves and a mask?”
A dimple flashed. “I’m familiar with the equipment.”
Kenzie could have pointed out that familiarity with the equipment might save his hands from burns but it wouldn’t do a thing to protect his lungs from the paint fumes. She didn’t. The man knew his business, and she was far too distracted by the sight of him in profile. Shadow cast smudges around his eyes. Or maybe he was simply tired. And his hair needed to be trimmed because it was starting to curl around his ear. No doubt if Will left off a trim for another few weeks, his hair would be as curly and touchable as Sam’s.
“Now you try.” He motioned her to come nearer.
She scooted impossibly closer, willed herself not to stop breathing when he looked at her, his clear gaze taking in everything at once.
Did he notice the way her breath hitched in her throat?
“Lay this putty knife where you want to work.” He positioned her hand on the sill then offered her the heat stripper. “Point that away from you and press the power trigger. Get the feel first because it’s touch sensitive. When you stop pressing that button, the heat will stop, too.”
Kenzie aimed the stripper away from them, surprised by the force of the motor. Then, with a gentle but firm touch, he repositioned her hands and told her to give it a try.
Her first few attempts resembled nothing of the fluid motions that had yielded him long strips of paint. Not only did she work up the paint in chunks but also managed to gouge the wooden sill with the edges of putty knife.
“Tell me I’m going to be able to sand away all this damage, please.”
He smiled. “You’ll get the hang of it. Stay on the flat surface until you do. The trim is going to be trickier.”
“Oh, wonderful.”
Will was a good teacher though, redirecting her patiently, reminding her to keep the edge of the putty knife flat with a gentle touch.
She wondered whether giving patient and clear instruction came naturally to him or resulted from parenting Sam. His ability was unexpected. No wonder friends sent their nephews to train with this man.
She finally pulled the mask down below her chin and said, “I see why you ripped out all the sills and trim on Angel House’s side. I didn’t have a clue how much work it would be.”
He sat back on his haunches, gave her a little space to breathe and eyed her skeptically. “Are you saying you want me to rip out all this woodwork now?”
“No, no. I’m up for the challenge.” She laughed. “I’m actually glad to learn how to do this. I’ve always wanted to renovate an old house.”
Will pulled a face. “You’re joking?”
Kenzie wasn’t sure why he’d find her admission so surprising. “I bought a plantation-style cottage with a gallery on the outskirts of town. It needed a ton of work, but it’s coming along. I love it.”
“You do the work yourself?”
“I wish,” she admitted. “I did the landscaping, but not all the work inside. I tackled only the jobs that didn’t have a huge learning curve or I wasn’t afraid would cost me more money to fix if I goofed up the job. YouTube really comes in handy.”
He smiled at that. “So what have you done?”
“I textured all the ceilings and hung the wallpaper in the bathroom.” She didn’t mention the teensy problem with repeat on the floral wallpaper.
“Then you’ll be a whiz at windowsills. No problem.”
She liked that he offered words of encouragement. Nathanial had called her insane to purchase the place with the amount of work that had needed to be done. He’d purchased a brand-new home from a developer in a subdivision so he could choose all the finishes that went in it before the place was constructed.
Kenzie squelched that comparison cruelly. Just because Nathanial preferred to call a handyman rather than be one, didn’t make him any less a man than Will.
“I follow this blog about a New Orleans row house that took a beating during Katrina,” she explained to dodge the wayward thoughts in her head. “The new owner posts about all the work he does. I’ve learned a lot. This is my first private lesson.”
Will liked that. She could tell by the way his gaze, so clear and cutting, softened. “Feel free to pop over if there’s anything you’re interested in seeing. When I’m around. The guys won’t let you hang around for long since you’re not part of the crew.” He gave a small laugh. “I didn’t peg you for a home improver.”
“I grew up around here, Will. Biltmore. Pinebrook. Johnson Farm. Carl Sandburg’s house. I love that the city is preserving our history, and I’m really glad to be a part. So thanks.” Somehow that came out sounding far more intimate than she’d intended. She could feel it in the silence that fell between them, the way Will suddenly averted his gaze to the windowsill.
He ran a light hand over the surface, came away with a film of fine dust on his fingertips. “Not to rain on your parade, but the biggest reason I ripped out the windowsills and trim next door is because of the lead paint. It’s underneath all these layers. Don’t want it around the kids.”
“Absolutely not. But, um, I’m not going to glow or anything, am I?” She hoped to restore the balance of humor and camaraderie between them, since she was responsible for leaking all her intensity over him and shifting the mood.
“Not as long as the lead paint is covered up by decades of latex or you get rid of it. That’s why I brought the mask. Use it.” He eyed her as if unsure she was trustworthy. “And don’t work with the heat stripper when you’re tired. Peeling away all that paint can get eerily satisfying. You can keep going way past the time you should stop. That’s when accidents happen.”
“Really?”
“Really. I once heat stripped every square inch of wood in this old house over on Buncombe Street. Trust me. It’s like playing Spider Solitaire. Or watching reruns of Law and Order. Two music notes and a crime, and you don’t move for an hour.”
Kenzie laughed, steadied herself with a hand on his arm so she didn’t fall on her butt. She had a hard time imagining this man sitting still long enough to play Spider Solitaire.
“Go on.” Will motioned to the windowsill. “Finish that up so I know I’m leaving the job in good hands.”
Seizing the distraction, she flipped the mask over her face again and got busy stripping away the paint, working the putty knife into the bumpy corners, so aware of Will’s gaze on her. But he let her work, allowed her to determine when she’d stripped away all she could. She ran the sander with the same motion he’d used, and when she was done, she turned to face him, found him still crouched beside her, smiling.
“Excellent work.” He untangled her hair when it caught in the elastic banding and lifted the mask over her head.
And they were so close, so exquisitely close that she might have swayed forward the tiniest bit to find herself pressed up against the muscular terrain of his body.
The sheer unruliness of that thought made her breath hitch, an audible sound that drew his attention.
And one look into his suddenly smoky gaze, and Kenzie knew she wasn’t the only one to notice their nearness.
The realization froze her to the spot, her face raised to his, so close he only had to bend forward the tiniest bit and their mouths would meet.
And he noticed that, too. Want was all over his face, as if this moment was the progression of their every interaction since they’d met. As if kneeling here was
the most natural place in the world for them to be.
She saw it. She felt it in the very deepest part of her, a swooping sensation low in her belly.
“Kenzie.” Her name broke from him as a throaty breath between them. “I can’t kiss you.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Things would get way too complicated.”
“They would,” she agreed.
With the matter settled between them, Will leaned back as if to stand. Kenzie was the one who swayed forward and stretched up on her knees so she could press her mouth against his.
Their mouths met, and they shared a breath.
Then his arms came around her, as strong as she’d known they would be.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WILL KNEW FROM the instant their mouths met that kissing wasn’t the cure for wanting Kenzie. Not in this lifetime. Not when her mouth softened against his, so lush and willing that he couldn’t have kept from pulling her near if his life had depended on it.
Right now his life just might.
He’d lost a part of himself somewhere along the way, hadn’t been whole, but she’d awakened his awareness with her gentle demands and practical caring. Kissing her only proved he hadn’t vanished beneath the focused and frazzled reality of life. He’d only ignored a part of himself that was willing to be ignored. It had been for his own survival, probably, which could explain why he awoke now with a vengeance.
For Kenzie, who made him feel like a man again.
She melted against him as if she belonged there, her long dancer’s curves pressed into every place that mattered, her kiss tentative but with that calm purpose so unique to her. Composed in the face of his fierce arousal, dragging him in with her matter-of-fact eagerness.
Unable to stop, he speared his fingers through her silken hair, so cool to the touch, a reminder he’d always known she was a woman designed to touch. He dragged in the fresh scent of her with every greedy breath, the scent that had branded her in his consciousness and disturbed needs so long ignored.
She sighed against his mouth, a longing sound that hinted he wasn’t the only one who had been ignoring needs, and that simple revelation urged him to greater daring. Sliding his fingers along the slope of her nape, he anchored her closer, explored the taste of her with his mouth.
Kenzie’s kiss was all gentle insistence, suggesting again on some level her need was as great as his, although that hardly seemed possible. But they’d clicked on so many levels and with some part of his brain Will supposed he’d always known they would. He’d seen her respond with careful distance, with concern that had turned detailed to-do lists into cooperation and an offer to strip her own windowsills, with invitations to meals, in her caring regard for Sam.
Will felt it now in the way she swayed against him, as if she’d waited forever to touch him. He could feel it in the quiet excitement of her responses as if she’d imagined how it would feel to press close. And the reality of their bodies swaying against each other made Will glad he was already on his knees, able to brace against her to steady himself.
His body betrayed him. But knowledge of his heated response only seemed to encourage Kenzie. Dragging her hands down his back, she touched him freely, a bold move that only proved her tranquil demeanor concealed deep emotions. He’d sensed her strength from the very beginning, the deep conviction, the fairness, the matter-of-fact concern. He wasn’t surprised to find her passion ran as strong.
And the idea excited him on some gut-deep level. He wanted to melt away her careful control, wanted to provoke the same craziness that was churning inside him, wanted to hear his name burst from her lips unbidden. But her name was the one to break the breathless quiet.
“Kenzie.”
Because he was rapidly losing the only part of him thinking beneath the urgency. He trailed his mouth from hers, along the curve of her jaw, along the smooth column of her throat until she trembled, her body so alive, so eager.
And her tiny sigh that sifted in the quiet finally appealed to his reason, to what was left functioning in the face of his arousal, and he broke away from the taste of her silken skin. Raising his head, he pressed his forehead to hers to brace himself steady as he traced the delicate angles of her cheeks, her jaw, her throat. He couldn’t stop touching her, proving what he felt was real, that she was real and he could touch her...
She exhaled another sigh, the sound mixing with their ragged breaths and the undeniable intensity of the moment. Slowly, grudgingly, reality intruded, demanding that a choice be made before they wound up naked and making love on this floor.
That they could not do.
Kenzie finally tipped her face to his, and they stared at each other, facing the truth of the chemistry between them, so much more than simple desire. His chest shuddered on shallow breaths. Her mouth appeared moist and red from their kisses. The world had shifted with her one bold move, because now everything was changed. Completely.
Will simply didn’t have it in him to resist her just then, yet a dim, rational portion of his mind resurrected her words. If one parent chooses to act irresponsibly, then the responsibility falls on the other parent to balance the situation as best they can.
Will was the balance. He had to be.
And with that sober reminder came the realization that as much as he wanted Kenzie, he had to step back from his need for immediate gratification and assess the consequences of acting on his need. For Sam. For Kenzie. And, yes, even for himself.
But Will didn’t stand a chance of keeping his hands off her, not without a little distance. Sinking back, he leaned against the sofa, stretched a leg out before him, hooked an arm over his knee. The distance had the desired effect. The storm surge in his body eased the smallest bit, enough to make sense of the beautiful woman in front of him, and how much he wanted her.
She gazed at him with a gentle expression, as if their kiss might have been everything she’d expected, and wanted.
He recognized her response from some long-buried instinct, the man who had been shut down for so long. Women had once come easily to him, but he’d always been looking for something more than just sex, had sought it in his high school girlfriend, then Melinda. Never a serial dater but a man always trying to grasp something solid, make it his permanently.
That random thought surprised Will, and helped him wrap his brain around a few more realities, a few more responsibilities.
“We’ve complicated everything,” Kenzie said softly, her voice thrumming through him with such power.
He nodded.
A few months ago, he would have rationalized seizing this unexpected opportunity. A few stolen encounters here and there while he worked on the building. Then the renovations would be done and Angel House would take up occupancy, and both he and Kenzie would move on with some fine memories.
But as Will watched her watching him, sitting back and tucking her legs underneath her, looking somehow disappointed with her kiss-bruised lips and tousled hair, he knew that was a few months ago. Now all he could think about was how giving in to their desire had consequences.
“So, now what?” It was a legitimate, if pathetic, question, but Will didn’t have anything more in him, not when he wanted her more than he’d ever remembered wanting.
She shrugged lightly, maybe even trying to appear casual. “I suppose we should figure that out.”
“Not too much to figure from my end. I’m a lousy candidate for a date.”
“How’s
that?”
He gave a snort of laughter. “I’m committed and overcommitted. I open my eyes to a calendar filled with more things than I’ll ever get around to in a month, let alone a day. A date with me involves seconds stolen from what I’m supposed to be doing, which is everything but what I want to do.”
He paused, and disliked admitting this. “You deserve a lot better than I have to give, Kenzie.”
She frowned. “But there’s got to be some time for you in there. Otherwise you’ll burn out and not be any good for Sam, or everyone else who counts on you. There are lots of those people counting on you.”
“No doubt there.” Deanne. Angel House parents. His employees. The mayor. The citizens of Hendersonville. The list went on. He got dizzy thinking about it, which was why he didn’t. He simply put his head down and kept placing one foot in front of the other.
But Kenzie didn’t seem to get it because she smiled again, as if she thought being counted on was a good thing. “So what’s wrong with enjoying your few seconds?”
“When I say seconds, I mean seconds.” She seemed to be ignoring the part about deserving more than seconds. “A relationship can’t go anywhere with me. I’m a dead end.”
“What exactly is a dead end?”
“It means I’m not free, and I won’t be. Sam’s got dibs on my time.”
“And there’s no room for anyone else with you two? I mean, besides Sam’s mom, of course. I know you’ll always be a family.”
Kenzie did know. Will remembered her saying exactly that in her class. But he didn’t want Melinda to be a part of this conversation. Just the thought of her helped him put a little more distance between him and his feelings.
“How would that be fair to you, or to any woman? Sam’s a great kid. I wouldn’t have chosen autism for him if I’d have had a choice, but I wouldn’t change a thing about our lives. I mean that. It’s different. But for all the complications there are a lot of great things that most people wouldn’t be aware of unless they were dealing with the situation.”
Right from the Start Page 23
