by Anna Argent
She turned her back to him, but he could still feel her against his side.
Dying embers crackled nearby, giving off the comforting scent of wood smoke. The quiet sound of her breathing was barely audible over the wind outside. Cold air chilled his face, but the rest of him was warming up fast. Even his shaking quieted. After a couple of minutes, his heart rate and breathing both slowed, and the last of his panic evaporated.
He hadn’t lain next to a woman since Janey. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel that living warmth so close, to know without a doubt that he wasn’t alone.
Until now, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this simple pleasure.
Tears burned his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. He didn’t want anything to ruin this moment of relative peace. It was the first one he’d had in a long, long time, and like it or not, he needed it.
Somehow Daisy had known, and he wasn’t sure if he should have been embarrassed that she saw his weakness or relieved that she’d acted on her intuition. Either way, he needed this soothing contact too much to walk away. No matter what she might think of him come morning.
***
Daisy woke up in Mark’s arms. He was curled around her back, his big hand cupping her hip. Heat poured out of him, driving away the frosty chill of the air around them.
She didn’t move. She hardly dared to breathe. She’d dreamed about this for too many years to do anything to end it. And she knew that once he awoke, he’d retreat. This cuddling was nothing more than a reflex—a habit born from the years he’d been with Janey.
Still, in the quiet stillness of early morning, it was easy to pretend that he knew exactly what he was doing—that he held her by choice rather than circumstance.
She gave herself a moment to bask in her daydreams before carefully slipping out of his grasp.
After using the bathroom, she came back downstairs to find Mark restarting the fire. She stared at his broad back, her mouth suddenly dry with nervousness.
He was awake now. The sun was lighting the room, brushing away the intimacy of sharing the darkness together. They hadn’t really done anything, but she felt changed. She now knew what it was like to feel his big body against hers, to feel his heat and strength wrap around her like a lover.
That wasn’t the kind of thing a woman could simply ignore or forget.
The grate closed with a metallic squeak that seemed too loud in the quiet room. He stood. Turned.
His stare was direct. It swept up and down her body in lazy slowness. His blue eyes were even brighter today, or maybe that was a trick of the light.
She wanted to say something to break the silence, but not a single, intelligent word would come to her. She couldn’t even ask how he slept. The usually innocuous question held too much meaning now, as would his answer.
So rather than say anything, she darted into the kitchen and used her keychain remote to power on the generator. With shaking hands, she scooped coffee into a filter.
Mark’s chest brushed her back as he reached past her for the coffee pot. She went still as her body shouted in happy recognition. She knew the feel of him now, and everything inside of her craved more contact.
Deeper, more intimate, skin-on-skin contact.
Her breath was trapped in her lungs. She froze in place, hoping that the empty clenching low in her abdomen would subside. Nothing good would come from her desire for him. She’d learned that hard lesson at the tender age of eighteen, when he’d started dating Janey. No way was she going through that again.
His work-roughened hand gripped the handle of the coffee pot. The thermal undershirt he wore to sleep in clung to his body, stretching over his lean frame. She was transfixed by the sight of the muscles in his forearm shifting and bunching. His chin stubble caught her hair, tugging it slightly as he moved. For a second, she’d almost thought she’d felt his mouth moving against her hair, like a kiss. But that couldn’t be right. Could it?
Daisy’s heart began to pound hard. She could hear it thundering in her ears as she held her breath.
He let go of the empty coffee pot, and wrapped both arms around her middle. His hands splayed over her abdomen, one along her ribs and the other at her waist. He gave her a slow, strong squeeze and whispered, “Thank you,” into her hair.
Before she’d had time to absorb his hug, he was gone.
Daisy stood there in shock, her system careening into a flurry of chaotic sensations. His heat was fading from her back with each passing second. Her lungs burned for oxygen. Her heart rate had doubled, making her fingers and toes tingle.
Water hissed nearby as he filled the coffee pot. The generator outside hummed. Birds chirped in their excitement to start a new day. Outside, everything was the same as it had been a moment ago, but inside, Daisy was changed. Irrevocably.
All those barriers she’d constructed over the years began to tremble and quake. As the first stones crumbled, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake. She could no longer fool herself into believing that she only wanted to be Mark’s friend. She wanted more—everything he had to offer.
The only question was, could she still fool him?
No way was she going to add any kind of burden onto his already decimated life. She loved him too much to make things uncomfortable or awkward for him. Helping him heal had to be her first priority, even if it meant she left him alone again.
This house was a wreck. It wasn’t a safe place to live. He needed help putting it back together. She was sure that if she left now he’d go back to living with the dangerous mess, eating crappy food and taking cold showers. That wasn’t something she could tolerate, which meant she had only one choice.
She had to find a way to hide how she felt about him long enough to make this place livable.
One thing was clear now: She had to find a way to love Mark enough to make sure he never knew how much she loved him.
Chapter Five
Mark’s body went through the motions, but his mind was firmly on Daisy.
She hadn’t spoken a dozen words to him since dawn. In fact, she’d avoided him. Whenever he moved to a room where she was working, she’d find a reason to leave. After the third time, he knew it was no coincidence.
Irritation rubbed under his skin until it created the beginning heat of anger. She was the one who’d invited him into her bed. If she was disgusted by his weakness—by his giving into his need for human contact—then she shouldn’t have given him an opening to show it to her. Besides, he’d thanked her. What more could he do without the power to turn back time?
Finally, fuming for a fight, he sought her out.
She was installing new wiring in one of the upstairs bedrooms, on her hands and knees as she screwed a junction box into place.
Her ass stopped him in his tracks. The words scalding his lips died and went cold.
Her ass was as sexy and surprising as her breasts had been, and he wasn’t sure how to handle the shock.
He stared at her dusty ass for a moment, struggling to find his bearings. Even with the heavy tool belt around her waist and covered in dirt, there was no mistaking those curves for anything other than a woman. And the kneepads she wore…his caveman brain went right to how useful those could be in the right situation.
He remembered how soft her ass had been cradled against his body right before she’d slipped out of bed. He’d only been awake for a split second before she’d fled, and while it had been long enough for him to remember, it hadn’t been nearly long enough for him to enjoy. If she’d been two seconds slower, he would have pulled her right back against him and enjoyed the feeling of holding a woman so close again.
And then what? There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she would have felt that he was hard. Morning wood was his daily companion. Would she have been disgusted by him? Would she have welcomed his cock rubbing against her ass?
Of course she wouldn’t have. That was why she’d not only shot out of bed, but she’d also been avo
iding him all morning.
She leaned down a bit, putting her ass on display in a way too tempting for his own good. The spike of lust that rocketed through his system startled the hell out of him.
This was Daisy, not some slutty coed. She’d been his sister’s best friend for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t supposed to look at her with anything but distant, brotherly affection. Right?
But as her ass wriggled as she worked, there was nothing distant or brotherly about how he felt now. In fact, for the first time in a long time, he felt completely connected, plugged in and powered up. His body hummed with the buzz of arousal—something long dead to him.
For a moment, he simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling.
He wasn’t broken. His system had been shut down for a long time, but everything still worked the way it was supposed to. Until now, he hadn’t even realized that he’d been worried about it somewhere in the back of his mind—concerned that his grief had stolen his ability to feel any kind of pleasure.
“Mark? Are you okay?” The sound of Daisy saying his name made his cock lunge against the fly of his jeans in interest. She had such a sweet voice, with just a slight edge of huskiness to it that made a man think of sex—the kind that made a woman scream as she came, over and over until she lost her voice.
He opened his eyes to see her staring at him over her shoulder. She was still on her knees, completely clueless as to the kind of thoughts her position was putting into his imagination.
If she’d been someone else, he would have stripped her jeans down and taken her from behind right then and there.
He adjusted his tool belt to hide his erection. “We should talk.”
She moved slowly, cautiously, as she turned around and sat on her heels. “Is something wrong?”
He took a few steps closer, drawn to her in a way he didn’t dare examine. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Her head tipped down, and the submissive posture inflamed him in a way he hadn’t expected. He’d never been into mind games or exerting his dominance. He’d never had to. Sex was as easy as breathing, and he’d never been long without a willing partner. Serial monogamy was good like that.
Her voice wavered before evening out into one of controlled exasperation. “I’m just trying to focus on getting the job done. I only have so much vacation I can take, and I really want this place livable before I leave.”
Something in her tone told him she was lying. A slight catch, her breathlessness. That wasn’t like her. She almost always sounded like she was on the verge of a laugh.
But not now.
Mark tried to ignore his sudden case of lust long enough to figure out what was wrong. She was his friend, and if something was bothering her, he wanted to fix it.
“It’s more than that,” he said. “You’re upset about last night, aren’t you?”
“Why would I be upset?”
She wouldn’t look at him, and it pissed him off. If he could see her eyes, then maybe he could figure out what was going on in her head.
He stepped close enough to tip her chin up with his finger. Her mouth was right near his cock, and he wasn’t strong enough to think about anything but how much he wished she were some other woman—one he could use. Hard. Fast. Drive away the pain of loss that filled him until there was room for little else. At least for a few brief minutes.
Her eyes were wide, and even in the dusty light filling the room he could see her pupils expand as she stared up at him. Her lips parted until he could see shiny pink skin just inside her mouth. Wet, hot, slick.
A low shudder of need shook his spine. He gritted his teeth to stave it off, trying to remember why he shouldn’t bend down and kiss her.
He swallowed the lump of lust in his throat and tried to pretend he wasn’t feeling a thing. “I should never have slept with you. I’m sorry.”
She flinched as if his finger under her chin had sent out an electric shock. In one fluid move, she was on her feet, turning away from him. “No big deal,” she said, her voice filled with forced nonchalance.
“It was big enough to freeze you over. I get why you’d be disgusted with me, but there’s nothing I can do to change—”
She whirled around, her green eyes wide. “Disgusted? Is that what you think?”
“What else could it be? I came to you in the night like a scared kid, all needy and weak. I disgusted myself, so it’s not like I can blame you, but I didn’t think you were the kind of person to shut me out because of a moment of weakness.”
“You’re wrong. So wrong.”
“Then what? Why the ice queen treatment? Are you worried I’ll come back tonight? Because I won’t. You don’t have to worry about that.”
She shook her head, and the golden ponytail at the nape of her neck swayed over one shoulder. She was by the window now, and sunlight caught the strands and lit them up until they glowed. “You don’t get it at all.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I…can’t. We’re friends. I don’t want to mess that up.”
“If we’re truly friends, then we won’t let a few words get in the way. Say what you need to say. Spit it out.”
“What you did last night didn’t upset me. Not even a little. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
“No. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to leave anything undone. Not to leave any words unsaid.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged herself as if in pain.
In a sudden rush, he realized he wanted to be the one to hug her, to comfort her as she’d done for him last night.
He moved slowly, crossing the small bedroom with the kind of caution he’d use to approach a wild animal. “What is it, Daisy? What’s got you all balled up inside? If it’s something I did—”
“It’s not.”
He wanted to make her feel better. Needed it. He’d lived with his own suffering for so long that he couldn’t stand the thought of Daisy being in pain, too.
He cupped the side of her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her soft skin. “Let me help. Please. I need to help someone.”
It could have been his imagination, but she seemed to lean into his hand. She blinked faster like she was trying to chase away tears, and damn if that didn’t cut him all the way to the bone.
He realized then that he hadn’t seen her in a long time. He’d been so isolated that he hardly even knew what was going on in his own family, much less Daisy’s life. Maybe she was dealing some kind of tragedy, and his selfish focus on his own pain had kept him from seeing it until now.
He folded her in his arms and pressed her head against his chest. She fit him perfectly, even though she wasn’t hugging him back. “What is it, honey? Talk to me.”
Her breathing was fast and uneven. He worked his fingers into her bound hair until he was massaging her scalp, hoping it would make her feel better.
She let out a long, breathy groan that stroked all the way down his body. The erection that had started to ease jerked right back to life again. He tried to ignore it, but the throbbing and blood loss in his brain was making concentration impossible.
“It’s not something you can fix, Mark. No matter how much I want you to.”
“Don’t you think I should be the judge of that? Maybe I have secret skills you don’t know about.”
She was quiet for a long time—long enough he could feel how her whole body had started shaking. No way was he letting her go now. She needed him, and for the first time in months, he had a good reason to draw in his next breath.
His chest puffed up and a sense of determination filled him. Little Daisy Grace was going to let him help her. One way or another.
***
Daisy couldn’t breathe. She’d dreamed of this for so long—Mark holding her close, awake and completely aware of what he was doing—that she wasn’t able to fully believe it was really happening.
A surreal sense of disconnection fluttered through. His hand cradled her head against his chest
while his thick, strong fingers worked magic along her scalp. One of his heavy work boots was between hers, causing his thigh graze along the inside of her legs with each tiny sway of their bodies. Even the leather on leather scrape of their tool belts rasped through her, vibrating along nerves made sensitive with need.
Her nipples beaded up beneath her chambray work shirt. Her breathing sped until she was sure he’d be able to feel it brush across the skin showing in the V of his flannel shirt. Her head was tucked above his heart, and she swore she could hear it galloping beneath her ear. Or maybe it was her own pulse that was racing.
Slow, wet heat built between her thighs. Even the shift of the thick seam of her jeans inflamed her. Her whole body was heating up, growing soft, pliant under his touch.
Secret skills, indeed. The man could all but drive her to her knees with little more than a kind word and a glance.
Her resolve to stay strong and hide her desire from him was melting, along with the rest of her. It would be so easy to simply tell him how she felt and let it drive him back to where he belonged—too far away for her to reach.
Instead, she stayed silent, soaking in this wellspring of pleasure he provided.
Mark tipped her chin up, and the work-roughened patch of skin on his finger grazed over her nerves, lighting each one up until it sizzled with the need for more contact.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
How could she not be when the center of her fantasies was standing with his arms around her, putting off the vibes of a man determined to get what he wanted.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“Did someone hurt you?”
“No. It’s not like that.”
“Ellen will tell me, you know.”
“There’s nothing to tell. But if we stand here all day like this, your house isn’t going to get any less craptastic.”
A smile twitched at one side of his mouth. He’d shaven away the faint shadow of stubble he wore this morning, leaving his face open and easy to read. And right now, she could see he wasn’t going to give up until he got whatever it was he was looking for.
