by Bella Love
What did serendipitous mean again, exactly? ’Cause as I looked at my reflection in Finn Dante’s sunglasses, I wasn’t feeling ‘good fortune’ coming from him. More, ‘Don’t fuck with me.’
Or maybe, ‘Fuck me.’
Mrs. Lovey’s voice filtered in. “…because I know nothing about circuit boards. Who is that, Jane?”
I snapped my gaze away from Finn. “Pardon?”
She pointed at my hand, which was still clutching the phone. “On the phone?”
“Oh! Yes. The caterer. For you.” As I held it out, I pressed my thumb on the End button. “Whoops,” I said in bright, false dismay. “Battery just died. You better go inside and call her right back. She really wants to talk to you.”
She frowned at the phone. “I will call her later. Peter and I have to go out,” she said in her precise way, nodding toward the driveway, far in the distance, where Mr. Peter J. sat idling. “We will be back in an hour or so. In the meantime, perhaps you can show Mr. Dante the breakers, and see if he is willing to work on them?”
“Of course.” I smiled brilliantly.
Mrs. Lovey tottered off, heels daggering into the electric-green lawn while I stood in my bare feet, staring at the pavilion in need of electricity. Finn stood at my side, pissed off and completely silent, no doubt waiting for me to make the next move. Say the next thing. Make the next mistake.
It’s just what I did when it came to relationship.
“So you’re not here for me?” I mumbled. This should make me happy, right?
“Oh, I’m here for you.”
A shiver zipped through me. “And the circuit breakers.”
“I don’t do circuit breakers.”
“Are you angry?”
“What do you think?”
“Maybe we should talk,” I said.
“You read my fucking mind.”
The breath jackknifed in my chest. I lifted my chin and led him off behind the long, manicured hedge of yews that bordered the lawn, creating a narrow strip of renegade brown grass that tumbled into the ravine to the west.
Updrafts from the river valley lifted strands of hair off my neck as I led him silently down the secret corridor of lawn, to an old picnic table I’d found yesterday when I was searching for a place to store the items we were going to need to clear out of the house to make room for a hundred and thirty guests.
It was a private little enclave between us and the world, and when we reached the table, I turned and gave Finn a look, eyebrows up.
He returned it with a long, silent one of his own, which went on. And on. And on.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“Really?”
“I left a note,” I explained weakly.
“I’m not a note person, Jane. And I do not like to be fucked around with.”
All the breath whooshed out of me. Two fucks from Finn in as many minutes were about par for the course. Two fucks coming out of his mouth in anger in that span of time? Not so good. I felt scared. Wait, I should feel scared. But Finn didn’t scare me. So this wasn’t fear, this electric cord snapping down my belly, deep into my pussy.
This was excitement. Red-hot and fired up.
Uh-oh.
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Bonus Excerpt-Leigh LaValle
A special excerpt for you from author Leigh LaValle!
BREATHLESS
The drilling/banging/death sound started, and I threw my hands out to the side. “Can you hear how loud that is?”
He listened for a moment, his gaze focused upward as if he too feared the ceiling was going to fall in. Then he turned back to me. His gaze dipped down to my chest, then slowly lifted to my eyes. “That machine is obnoxious. But we only need it today. Tomorrow, tops.”
I crossed my arms. My shirt wasn’t low-cut, but it was tight and my nipples were hard. “Well, it needs to stop. We can’t run a yoga studio like this.”
He raised his brows. “You want me to just stop? Just abandon the renovation?”
“How can you expect any business to stay open with such ear-splitting noise? Especially a yoga studio?”
He spread his hands wide, as if to say, What can I do? “It’s a construction zone.”
“My point exactly.”
“Construction is loud.”
“Class attendance has been down all week.” I planted my hands on my hips. “I can’t be the first person to complain.”
His gaze snapped down to my chest again, then back up to my face. He took a step forward. “We’re under a tight deadline, Hannah. You need to be patient. We’ll be out of your hair soon.”
The drilling started again. The whole building shook, and some more dust fell from the ceiling.
I poked Jake in his chest. His thick, hard chest. “You’re supposed to take care of your tenants, not run them out of business.”
“And you…” He took another step forward, forcing me to either hold my ground and stand belly to belly, chest to chest with him, or take a step back. I took a step back. “Could ask nicely. I have yet to hear a please.”
Boom. Boom. Boom. My heart hammered louder than the machine upstairs. Jake was so tall and thick and gorgeous. He was inches away, and I could feel the heat coming off him. He smelled of wood shavings and some kind of man spice. The scent went right to my head.
I’d never wanted a man as badly as I wanted him.
I met his gaze. I was shaking. “Please stop being a jerk, please. There, I said it twice.”
He shook his head. His eyes were hot as they raked down me. “You’ve got quite the sass for a yoga teacher.”
I tossed my hair back over my shoulder. But it was in a ponytail and didn’t have the desired effect. “And you have such a fine way with customer service.”
The sound of our heavy breaths filled the small space between us.
His jaw worked. He reached out both hands and rested them on the counter behind me. Framing me in.
He had me trapped. I tried to muster outrage I didn’t feel. Really, my panties were getting wet.
I took a deep breath. Not helping. God, his sexy scent… I wanted to bury my nose in his neck. Bite his shoulder. I couldn’t think. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching out and touching him.
Fight! Fight! Fight! yelled my brain.
Yes! Touch him! my body pleaded.
“We need to find a compromise that works for both our businesses.” My voice shook. “Maybe quiet hours.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” He growled. “But not right now.”
“Now would be a fine time—”
“I can’t think clearly when you’re dressed like this.”
Something heavy and enticing flushed through me. “What?”
“You’re just tight, everywhere.” He raked h
is eyes over me again. “What are you even wearing?”
I glanced down. My nipples were poking through the thin fabric of my shirt. And I was no longer cold, not with the heat pouring off him. “Yoga clothes.”
He didn’t say anything. His eyes were dark, hooded, and focused on my chest.
I looked down again. My shirt said: You had me at shavasana.
“You don’t like shavasana?” I breathed.
“I don’t know what the hell shavasana is.” His voice was like gravel. “I just mean—aw, to hell with it.” He leaned down and kissed me.
Soft lips, hot tongue, hard chest. I was a starved woman. I couldn’t get enough.
He wrapped one hand around my shoulders and another around my waist. Then he hauled me up against him. The tips of my toes grazed the floor. His scruff scraped my skin, and I pressed against his steely strength and something broke inside me. More. I needed more. I wrapped my fingers around his thick biceps and bit his lower lip.
Breathless
By Leigh LaValle
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