She gave his nipple a good twist. "That red tile had style. But you were probably right to go with something more neutral." She sobered and gazed seriously into his bright green eyes. "I just hope you're right about us too. Maybe we don't need to discuss all that ancient history in order to move forward. But no more cold shoulder when I say something you don't like, okay? You said you wanted me to treat you like a regular guy. Not someone I have to tiptoe around. That means that occasionally we're going to disagree and I need to know that we can talk about it without worrying that you'll act like a detached jerk and stomp off. No more Mr. Freeze, okay?"
"Yeah. Asking you to clean the granite wasn't one of my prouder moments." He rubbed his brow and then returned her steady gaze. "I will try, Lace. I can't promise I'm not going to fuck up on a regular basis, but I will never leave you feeling rejected again. I know what that's like and I never want you to feel like that, ever." His lips quirked up in an endearingly boyish smile. "Though the make-up sex was almost worth it, wouldn't you say?" He rolled onto his back, gripping her by the back of the knee so she rolled with him until she was once again sitting astride his hips.
Lacey reached up and gripped the grey suede headboard, sliding up his body until her thighs were on either side of his head. "I'd say, you still have some apologizing to do. Wouldn't you?" She said, bringing her flesh tantalizingly close to his mouth, but just out of reach.
Jack gripped her bottom tightly, gathered her sweet mound against his lips and buried his tongue in her moist folds. He showed her exactly how sorry he was by making her shout his name over and over until she begged him to stop.
Later, after Lacey recovered from Jack's apology, she curled up with her head on his warm chest. What a perfect way to spend her first night in her new home, she thought.
It was dark now and she could faintly hear rain beating down on the roof. Her roof. Under her ear, she could hear his heart beating and the sound was both soothing and oddly sexy combined with the rain. Six months earlier, she had longed for a new home and someone special to share her bed, to make her feel beautiful and cherished. Now she had that and so much more. It almost seemed like a dream. If Jack was wearing a kilt, she would know for sure that she was in some fevered fantasy brought on by reading too many romance novels. But he was real, and even with his flaws, he was still better than any fictional hero. Because he was hers.
Coming May 2012
Hot Property (Kingston Bros: Volume 2)
by Tamara Larson
Chapter One
"Seriously, you need to fire his ass," Serena Garrison said, practically stamping her foot in agitation. "He's a complete slacker. And I think he may have been drunk out of his skull when he came up with this whole community garden idea." She threw some papers down on the quartz kitchen island between her and her cousin and glared at him ferocioulsy.
They were in the luxurious kitchen of one of the many showhomes Serena was currently trying to sell. Unfortunately for her, not one person had stopped in to check out this particular Brownstone-inspired townhouse all day. And it was nearly closing time. This lack of public interest was just adding to her agitation. Having to explain to Jack what seemed fairly obvious to her was making her feel like a rabid badger with PMS. But that's what happened when you went into business with family.
Sometimes she wished she hadn't agreed to be a part of Kingston Brothers, but it had seemed like a great idea at the time. Plus, her mother had guilted her into it. She and her four irritatingly macho cousins had an arrangement: they built high-end homes that made people drool with desire, and she stepped in and made their drool-worthy real estate dreams a reality. This had been a profitable and satisfying arrangement for everyone involved. Until their homes had stopped selling. Things had gotten downright intolerable when Mark Goldsworthy joined the business as their full-time Property Development Consultant. A glorified title which really just meant landscaper with attitude as far as she was concerned.
"Calm the hell down, Ess. I'm not firing anyone. Especially Mark. You're just going to have to get over whatever has your panties in a bunch, and work with him. Because he's not going anywhere. And I happen to like the community garden idea." Jack Kingston said, glaring right back as he tried to gather the papers neatly without losing eye contact with Serena. Any sign of weakness and she'd pounce like a lioness. He'd seen it happen and it wasn't pretty. One of his younger brothers had a bite-shaped scar on his shoulder to remind him never to underestimate Serena. Or turn your back on her. Of course, Serena and Jacob had both been six at the time and he had put her Barbie in the garburator. Good thing she didn't bite anymore. At least he was pretty sure she didn't. Unless provoked.
"You have got to be kidding me. You actually want to waste that valuable land? So people can plant their own rutabagas? Don't tell me, Mr. Bottom Line wants to give back to the community." She scoffed, and crossed her arms.
"Well, yeah. I do actually. But I also think it's really smart. People who live in condos and townhouses really like the idea of owning their own land, growing their own food, and sharing that ideal with their neighbors. It creates a community atmosphere. And that sells. Besides, it fits in with the whole urban vibe we're trying for here and looks great on the brochures. Community gardens are popping up all over the place in New York and Boston. Why not here?"
Serena rolled her eyes. "Bullshit. I smell Lacey all over your hard-on for this misguided scheme."
"Okay. She did mention that she thought it would be a great if all the excess produce was donated to the local food bank. But I liked the idea before she said a word."
"Oh my God. You are so whipped. She has fried your brain with sex. What happened to the ice man we all knew and barely tolerated? I actually miss him. At least he was logical."
Jack narrowed his green eyes and fought his impulse to yell at Serena in frustration. She could be stubborn, but wasn't usually this close-minded. Her creativity was one of the characteristics which made her such a wildly successful real estate agent. This unwillingness to take a risk wasn't like her. He strongly suspected there was more going on here than a reluctance to see outside the box. In fact, he was pretty sure that Serena's mistrust of Mark was at the root of her hostility towards what was clearly a great idea.
"I'm still logical. But I'm also recently engaged. And making my girl happy, makes me happy. At least two or three times a day. Sometimes more." He waggled his eyebrows at Serena suggestively.
She made retching noises. "Oh. Gross. Please spare me the details of your perverted lifestyle. I'm still recovering from walking in on you two doing unnatural things with that bottle of syrup. I haven't been able to eat pancakes since." She covered her eyes as if blocking out the visual memory.
In truth, Serena was green with envy. Jack had met Lacey Ferguson at one of their Open Houses the previous year. After five months of torturing each other, they had finally worked out their issues and fallen in love. Now they were completely joined at the pelvis, at least most of the time. Their recent engagement in Maui hadn't surprised anyone except Lacey, who'd been completely unprepared for Jack's uncharacteristically romantic sunset proposal. To everyone else it was quite clear how anxious Jack was to seal the deal and make their relationship official.
It was almost like some sexed-up fairy tale, Serena thought to herself. They had their happy ending. Where was hers exactly? Her life was more like a cautionary tale on how to ensure a sexless and romance-free lifestyle. A guidebook on how to live like a nun. Hardly a bestseller. But at least she still had all her brain cells intact, which was more than she could say for Jack.
"I hate to say it, Ess. But maybe if you found someone you could share some quality naked syrup time with, you wouldn't work so much. And then maybe you wouldn't be quite so cranky." He knew he was going to pay for saying this, but her bad mood had been going on for at least a year and she needed to hear it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her genuinely laugh or even smile in a non-professional capacity. All she
did was work. Granted, selling real estate wasn't exactly hard, physical labor, but it took up a large portion of every single day. She desperately needed to take some time to relax instead of letting her ambition consume her. She was only twenty-eight years old and dangerously close to being a humorless workaholic. He wanted more from life for her. Even if she was a complete terror.
Her crystal blue eyes grew large in her lovely face and she gaped at him for a moment. Then she exploded. "You. Are. A pig. A complete oinker. No, make that an ape. One of those nasty ones in the zoo that throw their own feces around. I can't even believe I'm related to you." She reached across the island and gave his impressive upper arm a vicious pinch.
"Hey. What the hell?" He pulled away from her and rubbed his arm. "Don't get pissed. I'm just saying that you could definitely benefit from some tension relief, if you know what I mean. And I'm pretty sure it's the chimps that throw their shit around. Not the apes." He couldn't help goading her. She turned such an alarming shade of pink when she got riled up.
Was he right? Was she turning into a sexually-frustrated old shrew? No, it wasn't possible. She used to date like crazy in college. She couldn't have changed that much in just a few years, could she? Absolutely not. She was just overworked and Jack had sex on the brain. "Just because you're getting it regularly for the first time in your stupid life, doesn't mean everyone is obsessed with it. Some of us are more evolved and have more lofty pursuits in mind than just boinking our brains out like bunnies at every turn, you know." She reached to give him another pinch, but he dodged out of the way this time.
"Fine then. Hold off on the boinking. But what about going on a single date? Just to get away from work for a few hours. You never know, you might actually have some fun."
"Oh God. You're a matchmaker now? Stick to building houses, Jack. I'm really thrilled you found someone crazy enough to put up with you, but that doesn't mean everyone has to be paired off, does it?"
"No, not necessarily, but I think you'll agree that I'm certainly a lot less miserable since Lacey and I got together. If you'll recall, I wasn't exactly Mr. Personality before she came along and showed me what I was missing. And you might be less antagonistic if you had some fun once in awhile too. And let me tell you, nothing is more fun than getting naked with someone you're into."
Serena shrugged and looked down at the countertop, embarrassed to let her cousin know that her social life was completely comatose. It was so hard to admit when he seemed so annoyingly happy. "But I'm not into anyone. I can't even remember the last time I talked to a guy that made my palms even a little bit sweaty."
"What about Mark? I mean, I know you had a crush on him when you were a kid and at least we know he's a good guy. And more importantly, I think he'd be open to it if you would just quit looking like you smelled something rotten whenever he comes into the room."
"Mark?" She shook her head in disbelief. "According to the gossip rags, Mark tried to nail anything with ovaries when he was in Dallas and since he's been back he seems to be permanently nursing a beer in one or both hands. So, basically you think a promiscuous lush would make an ideal date for me? Thanks, but I think I'll pass. Herpes and beer fumes don't turn me on."
"Ess. Mark's been through a shit storm lately."
"Umm... his dad died from cirrhosis of the liver. You'd think that would turn him off the sauce permanently."
"Serena. That's not fair and you know it. Just because his dad had a problem with alcohol doesn't necessarily mean Mark can never take a drink. I think he's got it under control. I've never seen him drunk at work. Hung over maybe, but never shit-faced or anything like it."
"I don't know how you can say that. Mark's dad drove your family business into the ground, and now that it's actually making a profit again you actually think it's a good idea to give him a chance to sabotage what you've re-built? It's like history is repeating itself. And evidently I don't have any say in the matter, despite the fact that I'm a partner in this business just as much as you are."
Serena knew she was being nasty, but she couldn't help it. Mark was slowly driving her insane. Every time she turned around it seemed like he was there, looking irresistible. A woman could only handle so much temptation and he was definitely pushing her past her endurance.
Most of the properties she was currently showing were in the same development he was working in. It was practically impossible to miss his mouth-watering physique as she drove to and from work everyday. Sometimes she took extra trips. Many, many extra trips. She told herself her intention was to check up on him, but judging from his constant virile presence in her raunchy, late-night fantasies, she suspected she was really just checking him out. The knee injury that had ended his football career so spectacularly certainly hadn't affected his gorgeously sculpted chest and shoulders. She felt a little feverish just thinking about the way his stomach rippled and his arms flexed as he worked.
The part that was driving her completely mad was that she wasn't the only one visually assaulting the former tailback on a regular basis. If it was a fine day, and his shirt had vanished, he always had an audience. Females, and a few males, were simply drawn to him. There was just something in those dark eyes, and that slow smile that told women he adored and respected them, but also wanted to take them like a sex-starved barbarian. At least that's what she saw in his gaze when he looked at other women. All women except her. When he looked at her all she saw was indifference, and that was at the root of why she wanted him gone. She just couldn't face his rejection. Again. She wouldn't survive it this time around.
Jack held up his hands in supplication. "You're taking all of this much too personally. Yes, you have a say in what happens with the business, but you were outvoted four to one. Fair and square. You need to accept that and move on."
"And if I don't? What? I'm out on my ass, and one of you Cro-Magnums will smile and kiss up to prospective buyers instead of skulking around in the background?"
"No, nothing like that would ever happen. You're family and I would never choose anyone over family. And even if you weren't kin, there's no one I'd want representing our properties other than you. You're awesome at what you do."
Serena flushed under Jack's rare praise, but would not be distracted from her mission. "Fine, then get rid of Mark before he takes us down with him. He's a train wreck just waiting to happen and I can't bear to watch what we've built here be destroyed."
"Serena, you know I can't do that. We've known Mark his whole life and he needs a hand. Besides, he's a great landscaper. His dad taught him everything he knew before the drinking and gambling ruined him. If you could get past your personal feelings where he's concerned you'd see that he's a real asset to the company. Give him a chance, okay?"
They were interrupted by the sound of solid footsteps in the hall.
Mark Goldsworthy limped into the kitchen with a cold expression on his handsome face and an armful of plans under one thickly muscled arm. Not looking at Serena, he greeted Jack warmly, and then laid the plans out on the island to show his friend the latest design features he was working on to beautify a nearby condo courtyard
Serena, not one to be ignored, actually saw red when he had the nerve to grab her purse from one of the bar stools and use it to hold down one curling edge of the plans. Without even asking her. "Mark," she said through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here? I'm showing this place, and you aren't exactly dressed for meeting buyers." She gestured down at his faded jeans, work boots and stained grey T-shirt. Even dressed sloppily, he was still the most devilishly attractive man she'd ever seen. Which just enraged her further. Why couldn't he have gotten bald and fat, so she could reject him outright without her libido crying out in protest. It just wasn't fair. She wanted him out of her life. Permanently this time.
Mark turned his dark gaze on her for the first time and the look he gave her was not friendly. In fact, it was downright hostile. "What's wrong, Serena? Do I look like a train wreck?"
Serena felt heat ri
se in her face when she realized he was referring to what she'd said about him a few minutes ago. Obviously, her raised voice had carried out to him on the front porch. The rational, adult part of her brain told her to acknowledge what she'd said and apologize, but she couldn't do it. She wasn't really sorry and she'd only spoken the truth. He shouldn't have been eavesdropping anyway. What was that expression her mom always used, something about people who listened at keyholes being vexed. Yup, that's what had happened here. He'd gotten himself vexed. Too damn bad if she'd hurt his feelings. He certainly wasn't concerned with hers or he never would have returned and stirred up all those ancient memories.
She raised her chin a notch and looked down her nose at him. "As a matter of fact, you do look like a train wreck. When exactly did you stop shaving? And a haircut wouldn't hurt, would it? You're a partner in this business, whether I like it or not. You should try to represent the company in a somewhat professional manner. You're not a teenager, Mark. The homeless look isn't cute anymore."
His lips turned up in what should have been a smile, but looked more like a pained grimace. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length, silky dark hair and rubbed at his stubbled jaw with one large hand. "Yeah. You're right. I do need to step up my game a bit. I should be wearing a three-piece suit to dig up plants. That would be way more professional. And not pretentious, at all." He looked pointedly at her high heels, silk blouse and tweed skirt. "No wonder no one's checking out this property. They're clearly offended by my wardrobe. It has nothing to do with your skills as a real estate agent."
Jack stepped between them just as Serena looked like she was about to launch herself over the kitchen island and tackle Mark. "Whoa. Man. Let's keep this above the belt. Business is slow, but it has nothing to do with Serena. She works like a dog trying to sell our properties, but the market is just saturated with townhouses right now. Which is why we need to try something different to attract buyers. Last year, Serena, with some help from Lacey, came up with the idea for those cottage-style detached homes down the street. We sold six of them in one day. Now, we need something else innovative like that. I think Mark's community garden might be a step in the right direction. We need to sell a lifestyle, not just a piece of property."
Open House (Kingston Bros.) Page 14
