by Lila Kane
I end the call before Kyle can respond. Let him sweat a while. Or forever. It’ll kill him if he has to wait on me. But he will because he’s in a bind. He might be an expert at the business end of things, but I’m on my game with the house stuff. I know more than he does, and I have the experience.
And even if not, he still doesn’t have enough hands to get the job done. Not if he’s making promises to everyone that he’ll deliver ASAP.
I walk to the fence and pull it open for Libby. I grin at what she’s holding. “Really? A kiddie pool?”
“See,” she says, almost defiantly. “I can let loose. Besides, we need some relief. It’s way too damn hot.”
This is what she calls letting loose? I bite back a chuckle. Well, she’s trying.
I take the plastic pool from her and bring it straight to the hose that’s been sitting in the sun. Perfect. I let the water start to fill it while I grab two beers from the refrigerator inside.
When I come back out, Libby’s pulling her hair up into a bun high on her head. Shit. Even something small like that gets to me.
I grow hard, and it’s almost embarrassing that she can do that to me with such little effort. I walk to the chairs quickly to hide the evidence of my arousal.
“Here, hold these,” I say, passing her the beers.
“Everything okay?”
Fuck no. I want her so bad it hurts. “Yep. Fine.”
I drag the chairs over to the pool. Even though the sky is still clouded over, looking like rain any minute, I need to cool down. We both do.
Once we’re seated, I crack open the beer and sigh. Better. In fact, not bad at all. I’m sitting next to a beautiful woman and Kyle’s begging me to come back.
“What else do you do to let loose?” I ask her with a wry smile.
She returns it. “Okay, so not the biggest gesture, but still. We’re cooling off, right?”
She stretches her long legs out in front of her, flexing her bare feet in the pool. She’s rolled the sleeves of her t-shirt up over her shoulders. Damn, she looks fine all relaxed like this. If it weren’t so hot, I’d probably be even more turned on.
“We’re cooling off,” I agree, then sip my beer. “I’d say we’re less than a week away from getting the air conditioning hooked up.”
“Thank God.”
I reach out and tap her beer. “Might as well enjoy it. I don’t think we’re getting much more work done tonight.”
My hand brushes her arm when I pull back, and she glances over. Her eyes lock on mine. She stares for one long moment, long enough I grow uncomfortable in my shorts again. I swear there’s something more there. Not just a look. Heat. Need. Wanting.
“What is it?” I ask.
She blinks, and then looks away. “Nothing. I—”
She breaks off as the first rain drops start to fall. Only a couple at first, but then the sky opens up and gushes on us.
Libby stands immediately with a gasp. “Aren’t you coming?” she asks, gesturing toward the house.
“Hell no. This feels great.”
Her mouth opens but nothing comes out. It’s not hard to see the debate there. And not just whether to go inside. She’s testing my comment about letting loose—trying to prove something to me.
So I’ll help her out a little.
I set aside my beer and grab her hand. I pull her closer, so she’s standing in between my legs.
“Come here,” I murmur.
She shifts and presses closer. I almost lose it right there. Almost tug her to my lap. But Libby already seems on the verge of running away.
Water drips down her cheeks, clings to her eyelashes as she blinks down at me. “Carson,” she says, so quietly I can barely hear her above the rain.
“Libby,” I answer.
She sets her hands on my shoulders and leans down. Her lips brush mine, once, then twice. Softly at first. Like she’s still testing herself. Or maybe me.
I nip at her bottom lip with my teeth and grin when her breath catches. Damn, I want her. Right out here in the rain if that’s what it takes.
Now her shirt is clinging to her, and I can see the outline of her breasts. Perfect for my hands. All of her is perfect, and I want her under me right now. With her legs wrapped around my waist as I slide in her perfect heat.
She takes the kiss deeper, setting the pace, and I respond by gripping the back of her neck. To hold her close so I can ravage her mouth. One of her hands grips my shirt, squeezing it in her fist. When I trace my hand down her arm, then to the hem of her shirt, ready to dip underneath, she straightens.
I’m lost in a haze of need long enough I don’t register the movement at first.
“I’m not…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. I mean—letting loose. It’s—I—”
She backs away before I can say anything and dashes inside the house, leaving me sitting next to a kiddie pool soaking wet with no release in sight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LIBBY
I blew it. I was in my head way too much with Carson, and instead of living in the moment, I blew it. I’d already made this rule for myself, not to get intimate with him in any way. And once I put my mind to something, I stick to it. Like super glue.
So, of course, when I see Carson sitting there and the need to kiss him is so bad, it raged a huge war in my mind.
I’m not supposed to be doing this.
The words kept repeating over and over in my head until finally my brain won.
The thing is, though, Carson wasn’t pushing. He didn’t encourage that moment any more than I did. It was a choice, and it pisses me off.
Because maybe…maybe I realize one of my rules was made by mistake. After all, Carson has been a perfect gentleman. He hasn’t pushed anything and he’s a hard worker. Too hard sometimes.
Like yesterday. And today.
Since our kiss outside in the rain, he’s done nothing but work. The kitchen’s taking shape. He patched up the ceiling where we removed the extra wall, and the appliances are going to be ordered soon.
Which, of course, makes me feel bad. Sitting at the counter in the kitchen, I check my calendar. We’re two days ahead of schedule and it’s all because Carson has been working his ass off. He needs a break. Maybe I do, too.
I walk outside, where Carson is using a circular saw—one he let me use last week. But this week, he’s been way too focused to teach me anything new. In fact, he’s barely talked to me at all. After the incident in the rain.
“Hey,” I say when the saw quiets down.
He shifts a few boards and nods. “Hey.”
Then he starts the saw back up, effectively cutting off the conversation. I swallow and try again when he stops cutting.
“It’s almost dinnertime,” I say.
He glances up with his eyes narrowed, like there’s a clock on my face. “Yeah? I know you cooked the last two nights in a row—you don’t have to make me anything. I’ll grab something later.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Shit. He’s being nice. That’s even worse.
He starts up the saw again, and this time I huff out loud. I know he can’t hear it above the noise of the saw, but I swear he smirks anyway.
I fold my arms, but keep waiting. Now I’m on a mission and I’m not going to back down.
“You really don’t have to worry about dinner,” he says when the saw quiets again.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
He shrugs. “Getting there. Got some frozen burritos.”
Yuck. “You’re not having that.”
“Why not? Easy clean-up, too, since I know what a stickler you are about cleanliness. I’ve been doing my part. Following the rules.”
“I know you have—Carson, don’t you dare turn that saw back on.”
He pulls off his safety goggles and crosses is harms, mirroring my pose. “I get the feeling you have something on your mind.”
I grit my teeth, then narrow my eyes when he chuckles. “I wa
nt to go out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let loose, take a break. You deserve it,” I say.
His eyes lock on mine. Finally, after so long I feel like he’s just going to start sawing again, he says, “We deserve it.”
Victory! “Good,” I say, trying to keep my cool. “Then pack a bag for overnight.”
“Wait—”
“Let loose!” I yell back at him, and then disappear in the house.
Inside, I let out a laugh. Part relief and part amusement. I think that’s the first time I’ve surprised him. Maybe there’s something to this whole letting loose thing.
I change into a skirt and tank top, cool and sexy. In anticipation of an even sexier evening. I’ll show Carson that I really do know how to let loose.
When my phone rings and I see Cheyenne’s number, I pick up immediately. “Cheyenne!”
“That was enthusiastic.”
“I’m going out.”
“Yeah? Getting cabin fever in that big house of yours?”
“Yes. So much yes.”
Cheyenne laughs. “I would, too. So, is it a total nightmare? How’s that contractor working out for you?”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. He kept putting off the date to start working. I had to find someone else.”
“You did?”
“Yep. I…” I close my mouth. Probably not the best idea to tell her I ended up hiring the man who’d broken into my house. It feels like so long ago—like a dream. “I found someone who knows what he’s doing and we right on schedule.”
“Good. I’d love to come see the place sometime.”
“You should. I’ll give you a call soon.”
I finish getting ready. Cheyenne would die if she knew I hired a perfect stranger. But instincts. One thing my dad always said was to go with your gut. And I had. Kyle had been a mistake—in fact, I’d only gone with his company because he had good recommendations. I knew the houses he’d worked on. Or his partner had—although I’d never met his partner.
I went with someone I wasn’t entirely settled with because it looked good on paper. And that hadn’t worked.
Carson…something about him rang true. Just one man, but I knew from that first day he wasn’t in this for the money. He was in it for the love of the profession.
I spritz some perfume on my wrists, dab my neck, and then spray right between my breasts as well. I’m letting loose, right?
When I walk downstairs, Carson is already by the door, his shoulder against the trim. I swallow hard. He’s in dark jeans and a plain t-shirt, but it’s enough to make my knees nearly buckle. He looks so good—so hot. Why haven’t I gone for it before? Let loose and kiss him? Press my body up against his and let what happens happen?
When nerves start to sneak in again, I force myself to relax. I’m not making a mistake—I hope. Just because this isn’t on my list of rules doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
His eyes travel the length of my body as I walk up. I can feel the heat in them, searing me in all the right places. The places I want him to touch with his hands, and his mouth.
“Looks like you’re taking this very seriously,” he says. “The letting loose thing.”
“I am,” I say confidently.
His lips curve into a smile. “We’ll see.”
We drive into town and I take him to the bar right next to one of the town’s more popular B&B’s. I’ve been wanting to check it out anyway.
When Carson steps out of the car, I grab his hand. “Drinks and dinner first.”
“First?”
I nod, tugging him to the bar.
“What’s second?” he asks.
Him and me. Our bodies joined. His mouth all over me as we come together in the darkness of a cool room.
It’s what I want. But all I say is, “We’ll see.”
CHAPTER NINE
CARSON
If she’s trying to seduce me, it’s working. With her hair up the way I like it, loose tendrils hanging down by her neck, and her leg pressed to mine in the booth, there’s little else I can do but be seduced by her.
“Let’s get another drink,” she suggests.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s early still.”
Early by normal standards, sure, but I’ve been getting up at the crack of dawn in order to work. No, in order to work out my sexual frustration. Libby walked off on me that day, left me out in the rain without any kind of outlet. That in itself had been hard—but worse because I felt like she was fighting a war against herself. Convincing herself to stay far away from me because of the kind of person she thinks I am.
More than once since then I’ve thought about Kyle’s offer. It’d probably be easier for everyone all around.
But I just can’t make myself walk away from the Devereaux house. Or Libby.
Our round of drinks arrives and she slides her wine in front of her. “Tell me how you learned so much about houses.”
I shrug. “Not much to tell. My dad was gone a lot when I was young. My mom liked to remodel and renovate about every ten minutes, so I learned how to do it. We’d take classes at the local hardware store, and it all started to stick. We fixed up our house from scratch pretty much. I took classes in college, too. Thought I might get into architecture, but all I really wanted was to get my hands dirty.”
Her eyes drop down to my fingers curled around my glass of beer. She bites her lip, and it kills me not to reach out and kiss that mouth. To take her bottom lip between mine and tug. And then work my way down her jaw and then her collarbone. And then…well, the rest of what I want to do isn’t fit for a public place. Even a bar as dark and moody as this one.
“Your turn,” I say.
“Oh.” She takes a long swallow of wine. “Not as interesting as your story. Like I said, it’s sort of a family business.”
A song starts up, loud enough it’s hard to hear her quiet voice over the sound of drums and the electric guitar. But I don’t give up, just pitch my voice higher and lean in. “You’re not going to get away that easily.”
Her eyes come up to meet mine. “I’m not trying to get away from anything.”
“Good.”
Her leg presses against mine when she shifts. She licks her lips. Hell. I can’t help myself.
I reach out to set my hand on her knee, and she smiles before saying “My dad used to be in real estate. Then one day he decided the real money was in flipping houses. So he started small, but soon he was buying up houses and condos all over the place and turning them around. He had a whole team of people, got my brother on board—I even worked with them for a bit. But it was all very corporate by that time. On our end. And I wanted…well, what you said.”
“To get your hands dirty,” I murmur.
Her fingers trace the top of my hand. “Yes.”
“You miss working with your family?”
She laughs and drinks more. “Not at all. My dad was always off with whichever girlfriend he wanted that week—same with my brother. Like it was all one big game. It—” She breaks off and gives a small smile. “Family stuff. You know how it is.”
My jaw clenches when the reality of what she said hits me. “Wait. Is that why you are the way you are with me? Why you said what you said that first week we were in the house?”
She angles her head. “What did I say?”
“You said you know my type. Why type is that exactly?”
She drops her gaze. “I didn’t…I didn’t know you then.”
“You didn’t answer my question. What type was that?” I squeeze her knee gently. “Like your father and your brother?”
“Like I said, I didn’t know you then. I thought…” She lifts her chin. “I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me.”
“You didn’t trust me,” I say quietly.
She leans in, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. It makes my gut clench. “It’s not because of you. It’s because of me.”
“Do you trust me now?” I ask.
/>
“I think…I do. You’ve been working so hard and you haven’t walked out on the project. That means a lot to me. And it feels like the place means a lot to you, too.”
“It does.”
She flashes a smile, completely disarming me. “So I thought I’d make it up to you. Show you I can let loose.”
“It wasn’t a challenge, Libby. I didn’t mean to make it seem like you can’t have fun.”
She moves a little closer and her lips brush my ear. “But it’s true. Sometimes I get too caught up in schedules and rules. I want to have a little fun.”
She stresses the last word, and a jolt goes straight through my body, hitting me in the groin. Part of me thinks she’s still trying to prove a point, but then I remind myself she’s a grown woman. A woman who smells like flowers and looks like a goddess. A woman who’s sliding her fingers up and down my thigh.
“I have an idea,” she says.
I turn my lips to her ear. Her hair brushes my cheek. “You’re killing me, Libby.”
“Really?”
The surprise in her voice shocks me. Does she think she’s not capable of bringing me to my knees? “Do you know how bad I want you right now?”
She presses her lips to my cheek. “I feel the same way.”
I shift in the seat. “Shit. Please tell me that’s part of tonight’s plan.”
“If you want.”
“Exactly what I want.” I move to get out of the booth. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TEN
LIBBY
We stand in the small lobby of the B&B, and I look around, taking note of the columns and crown molding.
“Okay,” Carson says, his gaze traveling the same spaces as mine. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but now I’m getting ideas.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but…” I take his hand. “I don’t know if I want to wait now.”
His eyes lock on mine. “What does that mean?”
“I was thinking we could stay here tonight. I want a nice bed and a hot bath and room service.” I smile. “And you. But if you don’t want to stay, or you want your own room—”
