"No! It's my shovel. You let go!" Brie watched as he wrenched the handle toward his chest.
"Damn, stubborn woman. Give me the frigging shovel!" His voice wasn't close to yelling, yet the tone would have made hardened criminals take note.
"Fine! Mule-headed man." She suddenly let go. As he pulled against her, the handle flew back, whapping him in the nose.
"Ow! Shit!" His grabbed his nose, checking for blood. Luckily, he didn't see any on his fingers. Just how did I know she was going to be a nuisance?
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Here, let me look at it." Brie bit her lip, stood on tiptoe, and leaned in for a closer inspection. Her expression slipped to remorse for a second before something mischievous sparkled in her eyes.
"It's fine." Pushing her hands away, he carried the hard won tool over to the nearest empty flower bed. In all honesty, he wanted to feel her hands on him way too much. Start at his nose and work her way downward. Even the idea of her fussing over him appealed. A simple childish argument had parts below sitting up and taking notice. The flash of fire in her eyes, the flush of anger in her cheeks, she was breathtaking when her temper lit.
Even more frightening was the fact that a gorgeous sex goddess resided directly across the street. Yet, his traitorous body seemed only interested in the feminist green thumb with an attitude. Shaking his head, he decided either someone upstairs was having a heyday with this, or he was in need of some serious therapy.
Chapter 6
Brie had to give him credit. Rye didn't once complain about his shoulder or digging two dozen holes in the ground. Heck, he didn't even goad her about how she intended to do all this work herself. If his shoulder bothered him, he certainly wasn't letting on, and she had watched him closely, too.
It didn't take them long to get into a routine. She pointed out a few places for holes, then set about placing the plants in the previously made ones. By the time she had them all settled, he asked where she wanted the next set. Before she realized the time, she patted down the final plant while he collected the rocks, using an empty container as a bucket. Standing, Brie looked back over their progress. A wandering line of plants outlined the privacy fence, immediately brightening up the yard. She smiled at Rye, speaking sincerely. "Thank you."
He tossed a final rock in the container, and stood, gaze roving over the newly finished scene. "That sure made a difference, didn't it?" Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he took a minute to enjoy their efforts.
Nodding, Brie soaked in the sight once more before bending to gather the empty containers. For a second, she thought about working on placing the landscape stones around the large oak in the center of the yard, but thought better of it. Rye didn't act like his arm hurt, but that was probably more than enough activity for one day. That led to the question of what to do now?
Leaning on the shovel, he watched her bend over to corral the containers.
"Are you getting hungry?" Brie asked as she stacked the containers together, making four towers.
He shrugged. "Somewhat. What did you have in mind?" His gaze roamed over the yard and the stack of brick waiting to be placed. "Don't we need to finish those up?" He gestured toward the tree.
Dusting off the back of her jeans, she walked over. "Nah. They will wait for us. Besides, it's a good time to take a break and find some lunch." Standing beside him, she surveyed the area once more. "What to eat? Well, they have that new cafeteria style place over on the south side. Have you tried it, yet?"
Rye shook his head. "Sounds good to me. I think I'll clean up first, though." He returned the shovel to rest against the tree, and headed back toward the house.
Brie followed suit. "There should be plenty of hot water for both of us to take a shower, so go ahead."
Opening the back door, he waited for her to dash past him before following. A wry smile appeared on his face, causing her to pause.
Deciding she really didn't want to know, she scurried down the hall.
* * * *
A fluttering noise and footstep caught Brie's attention as she glanced upward and gasped at the sight before her. Rye marched out of the bathroom and into the hall, towel drying his hair, leaving the rest of him without cover. She stared in stunned silence for a long moment soaking in the toned body on display for her appraisal in all his glory, from just outside her bedroom. A strong, wide chest tapered to a narrow waist. Scattered dark hairs accented his six pack abdomen, drawing her eyes downward as they led a path straight to his promised land. "Rye! You're naked!" Her voice squeaked out.
He chuckled as one side of his mouth kicked up in a lopsided grin. "Yeah, that happens when you just get out of the shower." He made no move to cover anything, appearing more than comfortable with his nude body.
Brie squeezed her eyes tightly shut. No, can't look. No peeking. "Clothes are good, you know!" Hearing his chuckle, she couldn't resist. She peeked. Oh, my. Wow. Goodness gracious. The urge to fan herself hit hard even as her mouth began to water. If it came down to a choice between her all-time favorite food, chocolate, and Rye, well, that would be a tough one. Hmmm. Maybe she could just dip Rye in the chocolate? Oh, my god. What was she saying? One day with him and she was acting like a sex-starved hussy. That little devil on her shoulder quietly whispered. "Well, if the name fits." She was going to have to do something about that wicked little voice.
Rye remained still, that crooked grin still plastered on his face as his big right hand absently rubbed the fluffy towel over the top of his head. "You've never seen a naked man before?" he teased.
Her gaze flew back up to his face, feeling mortified at being caught. "I've never seen yours… it… him… that," she stammered. Brie pointed in the direction of his ever growing arousal. "What do you call it, anyway?" Her head tilted in question.
Eyebrows shooting up, he bit his tongue. "A penis?"
Her face flamed all the hotter, like molten lava. "No! I know that!" An exaggerated eye roll followed. Indicating his manhood once more, she asked again. "Doesn't it have a name? I thought men tended to give them names."
Shifting his weight, he pulled the towel from his head, immediately wrapping it around his waist. "Bam Bam." The words softly whispered across the distance. He turned to head back to his bedroom, but paused to peek over his shoulder back at her.
Brie stood there with her gaze soaking up the hunky image of Rye. Embarrassment at getting caught staring wasn't enough to erase that lickable image from her mind.
With a small smile, Rye tugged the towel free once more and strode slowly back into his room, closing the door in his wake.
Where is a quarter when I need one?
Chapter 7
Their late lunch went well, at least Brie thought so. They chatted, recalled times past, and even teased one another. Thankfully, he hadn't mentioned the earlier scene with Bam Bam. With any luck, he had forgotten it. Well, he'd better recall the part about promising to wear clothes, of course.
She realized one thing: his image was burned into her mind for all eternity.
It was too good to last, as she discovered when the check arrived. Rye didn't even glance at the amount, simply tucked the corner under his plate. Frowning, she leaned in to whisper, "This was my idea, so hand over the bill."
His level eyes met hers. "No."
That's all he has to say? Just no? Stifling a snort, she tried again. "Rye, come on. Hand it over."
"No."
Her temper flared. "Look, it's not like this is a date, at the very least let me pay for mine." There, she was being reasonable, that should work.
"No."
Neanderthals are not reasonable… Just short of growling, she attempted to grab the paper, only succeeding in knocking over an empty water glass. Quickly sitting the glass back up, she glared at the man across from her as he held the paper in one hand, intent to keep it out of her reach. "Is that all you can say is 'no'?"
"No." That had his lips twitching.
If she were to whap him upside the head in a public restaur
ant, she wondered if anyone would report her to the police for domestic violence? Now, that might be an option. Taking a deep breath, she tried once more before clubbing him. "Rye, really. I want to at least pay for myself. We're not dating, and even if I was on a date I would still pay for my own."
He leaned in, eyes locked on hers. "How long since you had a date, Brie?" The voice softened with a hint of curiosity.
She blinked a couple of times from the abrupt change in subject. "Six months." The words popped out before she could determine the safety of revealing such personal information.
"Why?"
Her brows knitted in confusion. "Why what?"
"Why has it been so long?"
Brie found her napkin captivating, tugging at the edges. It wasn't like she was ashamed of her lack of social life. But, actually speaking about it with a man, simply seemed awkward. Head down, she mumbled, "Maybe I haven't had any good offers." That was definitely true.
"Oh, really?" He took a sip of his water, still watching her.
Nodding, she folded her napkin and placed it on the table. "I seem to attract nutty men."
Rye smirked. Taking another drink, he smiled at her. "Ready?" At her nod, he stood and led them to the cashier. Paying the bill, he eyed her, but seemed satisfied when she didn't start another fuss.
Brie only muttered under her breath a couple of times about it on the way home, deciding that voicing her complaints about him picking up the tab after the fact wouldn't change anything. She simply had to prepare for next time. After all, she never backed down to Rye, not even as kids. He tossed out a challenge and she worked her rear off to fulfill it. Giving up wasn't in her vocabulary.
Chapter 8
Before heading to Brie's, Rye made a detour to his house, noting the droves of construction workers resembling army ants as they marched here and there. The framework stood untouched, but he knew the inside would be bare, gutted from stem to stern to replace everything soaked by the burst water pipes. The sole remaining good news was that the original blueprints existed, so everything would be back as before.
"Oh, Rye." Brie's eye widened, seeing the damage for the first time.
Glancing over, he felt his heart tug at the expression of concern and sadness on her face. A lot of people would have made some comment about getting basically a new house out of the deal. Not as many would have understood the deeper meanings. "Want to take a quick peek?" At her nod, he climbed out of the car, moving over to her side. "We can't go too close to the construction due to safety, but, if you want, we can peek in the back windows."
Again she bobbed her head, following his lead as he started moving.
One of the men yelled, then waved at Rye. The worker gave the thumbs up sign, then returned to his work.
Rye walked slowly around his home. Although it looked like a mess at the moment, it showed signs of improvement over that first night. At least, they were working on getting all of the sodden carpet and floorboards removed. New, solid lumber went in its place. Having made his way to the back of the house, he leaned against the warm bricks, peeking inside the dirt speckled window.
The feel of a small, soft hand rubbing against his startled him. Still staring at his former bedroom, he relaxed his fingers as Brie slid hers gently and easily between his. Giving a little squeeze, he sighed. Somehow he felt a little better.
* * * *
They spent longer at Rye's home than either had anticipated. At least, the contractor assured them it was coming along nicely, no complications or snags. By the time they returned to Brie's home, it was suppertime. After warming up some left over lasagna from the fridge, they decided that an evening of watching TV sounded like a winner.
Brie excused herself to slip into her jammies, leaving Rye on the couch, remote in hand.
Minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom in her pale blue pajamas, buttoned all the way. Her pink bunny slippers covered her bare feet. Redoing her ponytail, she paused at the entrance to the living room; Rye's look having stopped her in her tracks. Glancing down, she surveyed the outfit before returning her attention to him once more.
Meeting his eyes, she asked, "What?"
He arched one eyebrow. "Are those flannel?" She could almost make pajamas look sexy. With a bit of imagination he could see her standing there in a sheer negligee, beckoning him to bed.
He would bet his bottom dollar she didn't own anything sheer or sexy for bed. That certainly would have to change. A sudden inspiration hit.
Rubbing the front of the shirt, she furrowed her brow in confusion. "They're cotton, why?"
Rye schooled his expression carefully to conceal a sudden mischievous plan. "Umm… I'm allergic to cotton." Watching her face, he waited to see what happened next.
Blinking, Brie gave him a perplexed look. "How allergic?" She stood in place, eagerly awaiting his answer, one hand picking at the high collar on the blouse.
Flipping the button on the remote a couple of times, he answered, "Well, if it even brushes against me, I break out in a rash." He returned his attention from the television back to her.
"Rash?"
"Really itchy, red rash. Starts where I was touched by the stuff, but travels pretty quick. Not my idea of a fun day." Rye kept his expression casual as he turned the channel a couple more times. Play it cool.
* * * *
Well, that's just great. She didn't have anything else to wear, at least for bed. More than likely most of her clothing was polyester, which wouldn't be a problem. But, she knew for certain her pajamas were almost completely cotton. Surely it wouldn't be a big deal? On the other hand, if it only took the lightest brush against his skin, it was almost inevitable that he would come into contact with the material. A resigned sigh followed. "No. It doesn't sound like it's something you want to experience more than absolutely necessary."
"Nope." He watched the current program for a few seconds before changing the channel, probably watching her under his lashes.
"Your bed sheets …"
He waved a hand dismissively. "Already checked them out. Polyester according to the tag. They are fine."
"Okay. Well, in that case, it looks like I need to go shopping tomorrow, then. I think everything I have in the sleepwear department has a lot of cotton in the makeup." Not that she really felt like shopping, but there was no help for it. Either she got new jammies or Rye would look like a walking tomato.
The thought hit her like a tidal wave. Shopping tomorrow didn't do a thing for her that evening. "I guess I'll just hang out in my bedroom this evening then." She glanced at the couch and the man sprawled across it with a little twinge of longing. In truth, she wanted to sit, watch television, and enjoy his company this evening. Slowly, she turned, only for his voice to have her pausing once again.
"You can take them off."
She immediately spun around, a shocked look on her face. "But, I don't have anything else to wear."
"Go without." He shrugged, giving the impression that it wasn't too big an ordeal. It probably wasn't for him.
She gasped at that idea. No way was she running around the house naked, especially not with him here. Nope, nada. As relaxed and uninterested as he appeared, she knew better. He would be grinning from ear to ear if she took his recommendation. Well, maybe he would, or maybe he would just shake his head and ignore her. After all, how many top models did he see naked in those porn flicks? Maybe average women didn't appeal to him any longer. He needed someone like Bunny to gain his interest. Feeling even more dejected, she quietly replied, "No. I'll just go to my bedroom…"
He offered a compromise. "I've got a shirt you can wear for the night." Having said that, he stood, walking quickly past her, careful not to come in contact with her clothes. A minute later, he returned to hand her a navy blue silk shirt. Holding it out, he gave her a small smile. "Here. Try this."
Nodding, she took the offered item, heading into her room to quickly change. She couldn't help but run her hands over the material, enjoying the softne
ss and sheen. As a bonus it covered everything, barely. Her blue bikini panties sported more material than most, but still showed off more skin than she considered appropriate. Tugging at the hem, she debated sliding on a pair of shorts. Same problem as the pajamas: cotton material. If she paid careful mind not to bend, it would cover all the essentials just fine. Besides, it was plain comfortable. Fixing the collar, she snuggled into it, smelling Rye's masculine, woodsy scent. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"Brie? Does it fit okay?" His voice startled her out of her imaginings.
"Umm… yeah. It's perfect, actually." Pulling at the bottom seam once more, she left the room, heading to the living room once more. Stopping, she bit her lip, waiting for Rye's reaction.
* * * *
Glancing up from the television, he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. Wow. Although the shirt covered everything, it gave a tantalizing glimpse of sleek calves which tapered up to strong, yet elegant thighs. On the top side, even with the first button through the hole, the natural V of the shirt hung down, hinting at a little cleavage. As she shifted her weight, the silk clung, showing an indentation of her waist here, a curve of a breast there. His objective of getting her out of those scruffy pajamas had certainly worked… too well.
Brie tugged on the shirt once more before walking around the couch to curl up in the corner. Settling in, she turned to stare up at him, those hazel eyes a mirror to her thoughts.
The moment her eyes connected with his, Rye felt parts below clamor to action. Shit. Now, he had stepped into it. She was sitting there, looking sexy as hell in his shirt, with those eyes that beseeched him to take her, show her, teach her. Just the idea of his shirt brushing against those lovely breasts and wrapping around her perky ass was enough to make him hungry. Adding in that flash of innocence and he sank fast. Shifting, he tried to ease the sudden tightness in his jeans. Damn. He needed a cold shower. Yet, if he got up and left, she would blame herself for his leaving, which was true, but not what he wanted to convey. He and his dumbass ideas.
As Fate Would Have It Page 3
