I don't stop until my lungs burn for oxygen and she's trembling. My assault slows, and I barely pull away, skimming my lips across hers. She's panting softly, her hands shaking, still clutching to me. Her eyes flutter open, glowing a bright green.
Just like the first time and so many more that weekend.
"Miller—"
"Don't. Whatever you're about to say, throw it out of your mind. I woke up this morning and made a decision. You've convinced yourself what we had wasn't real, and it's time I prove you wrong. This time we're doing it my way. Starting tomorrow. I'll be here at three."
"I'm busy tomorrow."
"You have until three to get your stuff done. Then you're mine."
"But…"
"Hold your excuses. They won't work."
"I'm not interested." She tries to sound convincing, but the hitch in her voice gives her away.
"We'll see. Three o'clock. If you're not here, I'll find you." I plant a kiss to her cheek and release her, not glancing back as I go to help Pierce.
I'm barely out the front door when the "Arrrrrrg!" bounds through the house.
Pierce raises his eyes to mine, then throws a piece of plywood into place. "Pity you," he repeats from earlier.
"No need, I got this under control."
Chapter 6
Ashlyn
Something came up and I can't make it today.
Too vague. I backspace through the message and try again.
Today looks like a beautiful day for clearing out the backyard. I'm going to take advantage of this South Carolina fall!
Even freaking lamer. "You've canceled plans before, Ashlyn. Get it together," I mumble to myself, erasing the stupid excuse about working in the yard. No one would buy that. I'm not touching that jungle. My phobia of everything that crawls and slithers nixes the idea of clearing my landscaping.
Truth is, nothing I come up with will get me out of this. Miller made that clear. I'm spending the afternoon with him whether I'm ready or not.
How did I let this happen?
That damn kiss… that's how this happened.
I was holding my resistance until his mouth touched mine, and then I lost all reason. A momentary lapse of judgment.
That's what I'll tell myself.
"Who are you kidding? There is no lapse in judgment. You're in a losing battle with this man." I twist the hair on the side of my face into a coil and pin it together. "You're stronger than this. Dig deep and throw your defenses back into place before you go too far."
My pep talk does nothing to calm the rollercoaster racing through my system. The reflection in the mirror is a stranger staring back.
Who is this woman?
I learned a long time ago to control my nerves and carry myself with a certain edge. It was expected and required in my life.
Looking back, I can't believe the glaring signs I ignored and all I gave up. And for what? To become the laughing stock for years to come for all those I let manipulate my life.
I shake my head, dragging myself out of the thoughts before I go down the dark path that threatens to swallow me.
As if she has ESP and knows I need her, the phone rings with Mom's ringtone.
"Hey there," I chirp a little too eagerly.
"You all right?" Her motherly concern picks up.
"Yes, sorry I didn't call back last night. Some things were happening here when I got home, and after the contractors left, I poured a glass of wine and feel asleep reading."
This is not a total lie. After the kiss, I barricaded myself in the bathroom, taking the longest bath in history. Miller came back through the house, knocked on the door to announce he was leaving, and reemphasized our date at three.
I huffed loudly. He laughed.
It wasn't until his truck roared away that I dragged my pruny body out of the tub. I poured a glass of wine and attempted to read, but my head kept replaying our kiss over and over. Which led to other thoughts and memories.
"You read?"
"You sound shocked."
"Were you reading a law journal or a home improvement magazine?" she asks sarcastically.
"Neither. I downloaded a few books."
"Wow, that's great."
"Once again, why are you shocked? I love to read."
"You used to love to read but haven't done it in a long time."
"Well, part of the new Ashlyn. Bringing back old habits I let slip away."
"That's wonderful news and makes me happy." There's no missing the cheeriness now. "How did your meeting with that bank guy go yesterday?"
"His name is Evin, and it went fine. He's not exactly a banking professional; he manages money and portfolios."
"Oh, I didn't realize you were moving your money?"
"Yes, it makes sense, and I like Evin. He has a more personal touch than the group I used in Chicago."
I leave out the part that the group in Chicago is embedded with my firm and all the partners. It was a natural step to utilize them as I thought I was on my way to partner. Now, I don't want them to have any kind of access to anything with my name on it.
"Do you need our help with anything, Ashlyn?"
I smile to myself, knowing this is her way of wading in and still giving me independence. My dad would once again threaten to drive here and meet with Evin to dissect his experience.
"No, Mom, I'm good. And guess what? When I got home from my meeting, the contractors had ripped up the front porch. Isn't that awesome? I mean, it looks like hell now with a plywood sub base, but it's another step in the right direction."
It's her turn to giggle. "Only my daughter could make one of the swiftest moves in history and get excited about living in squalor."
"I'm hardly living in squalor."
"Give me the tour. Show me what's new."
I switch to FaceTime and walk her through the house, beginning with the upstairs. I've kept her up to date on what's happening, but it's been a week since I've shown her the progress. She chats along, visualizing the outcome with me.
On the way downstairs, I scan the aerial view, explaining the wall coming down next week. The phone pans the front entryway, and it doesn't register that Miller's leaning against the inside frame, watching me with a grin. Too wrapped up in my conversation, I don't think twice, giving him a short wave and continuing throughout the main floor.
When I'm done, Mom has gone unusually quiet, her commentary stopping.
"That's the progress this week. Something else, right?"
"Something else indeed… That's exactly how I'd put it." Her eyes are gleaming, her smile wide, and her expression loaded with humor.
"What is so entertaining?"
"Who's the hunk at the front door?"
Realization washes over me, and I squeak at the same time Miller can be heard laughing. "That's my contractor. He's probably stopping by to drop off something."
"That's the contractor? Now I can imagine why you were excited about the porch being ripped out. Mmhmm, oh yeah."
“Mom!” I juggle the phone, trying to lower the audio before she says something else embarrassing.
Not my luck.
"No wonder you were too preoccupied to call me back last night."
"Stop talking!"
I tap the button over and over but don't get it switched before Miller is behind me, stepping in close.
"Hi, Mrs. Rhodes." His voice is smooth, the scent of his cologne washing over me and setting my pulse on overdrive. Especially when my mom's eyes pop out at a close-up of him.
"I wish we'd have done this tour on my iPad so I'd have a bigger screen."
My face flames, and I drop my arm so the phone is facing the concrete flooring.
"I much prefer the view up there than the floor, Ashlyn," she scolds through the line.
"Mom, I need to go. I'll call you later."
"No need to rush. Things just got interesting."
"Bye, love you." I disconnect and close my eyes, not wanting to face him.
"She was right. There was no need to rush off the phone on my account." He’s so close his breath tickles the side of my neck.
"You have no idea what you did." Twisting to face him is a mistake because now our bodies are pressed together.
"I said hello to your mother. Is that a crime?"
"Yes! That was anything but a normal hello. That was a Miller Kendrick, smooth-talking, sexy-looking, deep-throated greeting. Not to mention, it's Saturday, and she's not buying my excuse that you're dropping something off. Right now, her imagination is going wild, and I will have to endure an inquisition."
His blue eyes dance, brightening with each passing second. My knees go weak, and I hope like hell I don't melt under his gaze.
"There is a lot there, Princess, but let's start with the fact that you think I deep-throat my words."
Oh my God, did I say that? My heart races, and I can't hold his stare. "You know what I mean."
"Actually, that's a new one for me. In my book, the term deep-throating has a whole different meaning."
That does it. I can't handle the embarrassment and drop my head to his chest. "Can we forget it?"
"I'm a man, baby, and when the term deep-throating comes out of a mouth as sexy as yours, my mind goes places. Especially knowing what your mouth is capable of."
"That's it! Date is off. We can't do this."
One arm goes around my waist, holding me steady, while his other hand cups the side of my face, nudging it upwards. "Our date is only beginning."
He sweeps his lips across mine gently as I realize that I am the one that labeled this. He never used those words before now, which means I am at fault. Dammit!
"You look beautiful," he says softly, kissing from corner to corner.
It takes all the willpower in my body to not throw myself around him and recreate the kiss from yesterday. As if he senses my dilemma, he breaks away and gives me a little space.
"Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be without knowing where we're going."
He takes my hand, still grinning, and leads me to my room, handing me my purse from the side table.
"Thanks." I drop my phone in the bag and glance up to find him smirking.
"How bad did those words burn?"
"Barely a singe." I bite my lip to keep from grinning.
"Told you it would get easier."
"Don't be smug."
He bends down again, but I sway to avoid him. "You have to stop. No more kissing."
"Why is that?"
"Because I said so."
"That's your argument? Because you said so?"
"Actually, yes." I leave out the fact that I usually only win with this argument when it's family.
"You're full of shit, but I'll let it slide since we have somewhere to be."
He tugs me behind him, stopping outside the door to wait for me to lock up, then leads me to his truck. Once we're driving, the nerves from earlier return.
"Where are we headed?" I try to sound casual.
"Historic District."
"Didn't you miss the turn?"
He takes his eyes off the road to look at me. "No."
"You must know a shortcut."
"I'm taking the long way."
"But why? That's a waste of time."
"Are you in a hurry?" He quirks an eyebrow.
"No, I'm efficient."
"Part of a date is spending time with each other."
"I shouldn't have said this was a date."
"But you said it, can't take it back now."
"A date would imply you asked me out. You didn't give me a choice."
"Maybe that's my way of asking."
"It's not very romantic. Women like to be asked."
"Are you teaching me the etiquette of dating, Princess?"
"I'm not sure you'd be a good student."
"I bet with you as my teacher I'll be an exceptional student."
My stomach clenches at his fun-loving mood, and I stare out the window to avoid him. "I'd be a horrible teacher. I haven't been on a date in almost ten years unless you count business dinners and late-night functions with the scum-sucking asshole I used to work for."
Shut up, Ashlyn! Why the hell did you just spew that out like it was a casual comment? Now he has every right to ask me more about my past.
Instead of questioning me, Miller stays quiet for a few seconds. Then he reaches over and covers my hand with his own, bringing it to rest on his knee.
"Good thing for me I'm a quick learner. Get ready."
I try to smother that little sliver of hope that churns inside. Then I find a bit of my old self, and before I can help myself, I blurt, "Not sure I'm the one to try your moves on."
"Baby, if I wanted to try my moves, we wouldn't have left your house with your bed six feet away from where I could definitely prove you had many choices of what happened next."
"You have to quit."
"Nope, not happening." He runs his thumb along my wrist. "But for now, look around."
I do as he instructs and gasp at the scenery. We are in one of the historic districts you see on any website or visitor brochure highlighting Charleston. I love Pierce and Darby's home, but this area is a different old Charleston beauty.
"Wow." My eyes dart around furiously, not wanting to miss a single house.
"In two weeks, you won't recognize these homes. They will be decorated for the holidays."
"Why so early?"
"They like to finish by mid-November to kick off the season. Many of these are part of the historical society and take part in events to benefit local charities."
"I bet it's breathtaking." I can picture the extravagant and elegant décor.
"It's not exactly my thing, but it's popular. I figured you might be into it."
"I am, Christmas is my favorite. I can't wait to decorate next year."
"Why next year?" He parks along a sidewalk and twists in his seat.
"The house won't be ready this year."
"The house will be ready."
"Let me rephrase. The house won't be ready for the way I envision it. I barely had room for a tree in my apartment in Chicago. Now I have an entire home to fill top to bottom. Wreaths on the windows, lights strung on the porches, candles, and Christmas villages to set up… an enormous tree in the living room visible from the street. Faux snow covering my bookshelves filled with holiday knick-knacks. The mantle on the fireplace with my stocking surrounded by hanging holiday cards." I sigh happily.
I turn to find him staring at me with a thoughtful expression. "Your house will be ready," he repeats.
"I won't hold you to that promise. I expect some challenges along the way. Plus, I need to buy most of these things."
He lifts our joined hands and kisses across my knuckles. "Let me rephrase. I'll make it where you can have your huge tree in the corner, your wreaths on your windows, your faux snow—whatever the hell that is, and anything else you want to make the first Christmas in your house memorable." The determination in his voice makes me believe him.
"I would really love that."
"You can start shopping."
I nod, giving him a grateful grin and look around to avoid leaping over the console to thank him. "Why are we stopped?"
"You're almost done with the inside. Now it's time to decide about the outside." He squeezes my hand before getting out and coming around the truck to my side. "You think you can walk a few blocks in those shoes?"
"I can do almost anything in these." I kick out my leg and model the wedges. "Don't forget I made it over the studs last night with ease."
His smile dies as his lips form a tight line. "Yeah, that wasn't smart."
"I'm perfectly capable of balancing on two feet."
"Don't do something like that again."
"I see you're back to being bossy."
"If you consider bossy watching out for your safety, then yes."
"That's twice you've insinuated that I'm a klutz or unable to handle si
mple things."
"Baby, you want to walk a beam, I'll set up a dozen in your living room. Last night, you could have fallen through the frame and broken your neck. My fucking fault that I got so caught up in Pierce's shit that I didn't finish the plywood first. But you should have the sense to walk around."
There's no time to argue and no time to brace because, by the time I catch the intention in his eyes, I'm out of my seat and in his arms with his mouth covering mine. The tip of his tongue slides in and rolls through my mouth once before he pulls away, setting me on my feet. I sway in a daze, latching onto his arm for balance.
He's full out smiling when I regain my footing.
"What is wrong with you?" I squeak.
"Not a thing."
"I told you no more kissing."
"I must have missed that."
"You didn't miss it."
"Keep arguing, Princess." He raises an eyebrow, licking his bottom lip.
I open then snap my jaw tight.
"Now that I have your attention, it's time to make some more decisions."
"About?"
He takes my hand, walking us forward. "Landscaping."
"We're ready for that?"
"I've scheduled a crew in a few weeks. Thought today would be a good time to get an idea of what you'd like. It'll make things easier."
"I have a folder of ideas at the house."
"Do you think a collection of magazine photographs is the way to make your selections? Look around."
I do as he says and understand immediately his reasoning. "We should go back to the truck and get my phone."
"Tell me what you like and I'll get some pictures."
For the next hour, we wind through streets, him taking pictures of everything I point out and explaining the pros and cons of maintenance required. We make a large circle, and I'm babbling non-stop with excitement about the possibilities. It's not until I stop to take a breath that I realize he's caged me in between his body and the passenger door of his truck.
His eyes glitter a blue so brilliant my skin heats under his gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask low, my voice barely audible.
"Because you're beautiful." His hand moves to my face, his thumb skimming along my jawline. "And I love hearing you ramble."
My lips press together and my eyes focus on the familiar lamb emblem on the left side of his shirt. "I may have gotten carried away."
Miller's Time (Southern Charmers Series Book 2) Page 7
