“Yeah.” He looked up at her, then away again fast, scowling. “Stupid, huh?”
“No.” That weird tug in her chest pulled her closer to him. “Not at all. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood then, putting them only inches apart. Her mouth dried and her knees quaked. Alex’s gaze flickered from her eyes to her mouth then back again, and all the conflict inside her from earlier melted into pure, molten want. Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
He leaned closer, closer, so close she could see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes, hear the hitch in his breath, smell the comforting scent of sawdust and soap on his skin and…
Ding!
They both stepped back, and Mandy tried to act like her world hadn’t rocked on its axis.
Seemed the new oven wasn’t the only thing at full temperature.
Alex sat down again, fiddling with Duckie’s new toy and looking anywhere but at her. “I’m not a very good cook, otherwise I’d help you.”
“It’s fine.” She shoved the potatoes into the oven then concentrated on getting the chicken breasts ready instead of the blood singing through her veins and the heat in her rib cage. After dredging the chicken in oil and garlic then breadcrumbs and cheese, she put it into a baking dish then set it in the oven beside the potatoes to cook. Cleaning the counter and washing her hands took more time, but eventually it was all done, and she had to face Alex again.
Please don’t let me look as flustered as I feel.
She took a deep breath then turned slowly to find him watching her from across the room. He looked as off-kilter as she felt. Butterflies swarming in her empty stomach, she searched for some way past the awkward. “So…”
“So,” Alex said, pushing to his feet, and for a breathless second, she thought he would stride across the kitchen and sweep her into his arms for a romance novel cover-worthy ravishing. The idea buzzed through her, setting all her nerve endings alight. But instead, he turned and headed out into the hall, saying as he went, “Staining.”
Huh? Mandy blinked after him, wondering what the heck he was talking about until she remembered the cans he’d brought up from the basement. Being busy was better than standing around thinking about Alex and his almost-kiss, so she trailed after him, asking, “Need any help?”
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, hands full of cans and brushes. “I guess.”
“Cool.”
They headed up to the second floor and knelt side by side at the railing. He poured stain into two small cups and handed her one. Mandy moved to the opposite end of the railing to start on a baluster, doing her best to focus on the task at hand and not the man at the other end of the railing. They worked their way back toward the middle and each other and once they were done, Mandy sat back on her heels, her stomach growling as the smell of garlic and roasting chicken drifted up from the kitchen. She sighed and set her cup of stain aside to wipe her hands on a piece of paper towel. “I should go check the food.”
Alex squinted at the baluster he was finishing. “I’m sorry.”
For a moment, Mandy thought she’d misheard him. “For what?”
He sighed and met her eyes at last. “For whatever that was downstairs in the kitchen. I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.” Then he shook his head, staring down at the paintbrush he was cleaning. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to play it off with a joke. “I mean after you asked me if I wanted to sleep with you, a kiss seems pretty innocent, right?”
Alex looked up at her. “This isn’t funny.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Well, not exactly the end of the world, either. I mean, we’re both adults. We like each other. We want each other. What’s wrong with that?” Then because she knew exactly what was wrong with that whole scenario, she kept on talking so she wouldn’t have to listen to him tell her he didn’t want her. “I’m kidding. We can’t sleep together. It’s too complicated. We each have our own plans for the future and neither of them involves the other. You’re staying here and I’m going to California. Who cares if the chemistry between us is off the charts? I mean, I feel it, but maybe you don’t. I just…” She stopped and took a breath, out of words at last, her hopes sinking along with her voice. “I’m sorry, too.”
Alex set his brush aside and sat back against the wall. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”
Mandy gave a sad little snort, settling in beside him. “We do.”
Their shoulders pressed together, and warmth spread through her side from the touch. Man, she had it bad for this guy, and that wasn’t good.
He exhaled slowly then looked over at her. “And you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Neither do you,” she said, raising her head to meet his gaze.
Alex reached over to trace his fingers down her cheek. “You’ve got stain on your face.”
“Oh.” Her breath caught at the wonder in his touch. “Wouldn’t want to look silly.”
“No.” He closed the gap between them at last. “Hate it when that happens.”
The first brush of his lips against hers felt featherlight, tentative, teasing. Then she groaned and slipped her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, and he deepened the kiss, no longer gentle as she swept his tongue between her lips to taste him for the first time. She scrambled onto his lap, unable to get enough, her chest pressed to his, heart to heart, their pulses thumping together, strong and steady.
Kissing Alex too much. Kissing him would never be enough.
Kissing him was…
Over.
The oven timer buzzed downstairs, and reality crashed down hard.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, their rapid breaths mingling. No entanglements. That had been the plan. But she knew now she’d gone well past entanglement with him and was in serious attachment mode. Which was awful because she wasn’t staying. Hollywood was still her goal, had always been her goal.
Right?
She sat back then fumbled to her feet, heading for the stairs before she did something stupid like tackling him to the floor and having her wicked way with him. Her legs felt weak and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking as she gripped the banister hard and headed downstairs. “I need to check on dinner.”
…
The next day, Alex stood in the basement surrounded by the Plonk! Plonk! Plonk! of jackhammers and shouted to be heard over the ruckus. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Subfloor needs lowering so the boiler fits,” Skip said, hands on his portly hips. “Figured we can at least get a good start before the weekend.”
“You can’t just rip up the basement floor.” Alex was still trying to wrap his head around the fact his contractor had screwed up the measurement. Now Skip and his crew were risking the structural integrity of the foundation to cover their mistake. Nope. No way. Completely unethical and unacceptable. “Tell them to stop digging immediately.”
Skip screamed an order to his crew and the noise ceased. “I’ll throw in the barricades for free.”
“Barricades?” Alex inspected the damage already done to the cement floor, his stomach cramping. “Get your equipment and your guys and get out of here. You’re fired.”
He went back upstairs and braced his hands on the kitchen table, wanting to punch something, namely Skip. The sky outside the windows above the sink was gray and overcast, a perfect match for the frustration churning inside him.
Skip followed, his face mottled and angry. “You can’t fire us. We had a deal.”
“A deal you broke by screwing up the measurements,” Alex said, teeth gritted. “Leave now or I’ll call the cops.”
“You’re making a mistake, buddy.”
“My only mistake was hiring you in the first place. And I’m not your buddy. Be prepared to hear from my lawyers.”
“Is that a threat?�
� Skip stepped closer, his face resembling an angry bulldog’s. “You’re the one who told me to cut expenses.”
“I also told you not to sacrifice quality.”
“Whatever.” Skip went back downstairs, grumbling under his breath. “Good luck freezing to death this winter.”
He had enough on his mind today without issues with the boiler installation, too. He’d find someone else to do the work. Someone competent. And sure, November was fast approaching. There had to be a contractor somewhere who could get a new heating system in the house before December, right? Alex glared at the guy’s retreating flannel-covered back as the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed down the hall. Great.
Problem number two arriving soon…
Their kiss last night hadn’t exactly been a mistake, but it wasn’t a genius move, either. He’d put those rules in place between them for a reason and here he was breaking them all. Or at least thinking about it, which was idiotic. She wasn’t for him. Never had been. They were too different. She was all sunshine and rainbows and he was nothing but a big thunderhead these days. It shouldn’t work, and yet, when he’d kissed her, it had all seemed to work just fine.
Or maybe that was just the lust talking. Regardless of how screwed up his leg was, the rest of his body worked just fine, including his nervous system, which stood at attention whenever Mandy was around. It was like she’d switched on a light inside him or something, changing his drab world to brilliant Technicolor. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t say he hated it, either. More like a low-grade dread. Because he’d felt like that with Felicity, too, before the accident, and then everything had gone black. Better to keep the light out than have it taken away, right?
“Hey.” Mandy rushed into the kitchen, all rosy cheeked from the chill outside. “How’s the boiler going?”
“It’s not.” He scrubbed a hand over his face wishing away the ache in the back of his throat, glad at least to have something to talk about other than last night. “I just fired the HVAC crew.”
“What? Why?”
“The contractor screwed up the measurements, and the boiler doesn’t fit.” He sank into a chair at the table and rubbed his sore left leg. “It’s fine. I’ll get someone else to shore up the foundation and put in a new boiler.”
Who exactly that would be, this close to winter, he wasn’t sure, but he’d deal with that later. Right now, it was taking all his reserves to keep from pulling Mandy into his lap and picking up where they left off. He swallowed hard and stared at the tabletop. “How’d work go at the diner today?”
“Fine. Busy. Typical Friday.” She must’ve changed before coming to see him, wearing the same Wicked sweatshirt and jeans she’d had on the previous evening. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the feel of her as she’d straddled him upstairs, the press of her soft curves and the sweet little sounds she’d made as he’d kissed her. She walked over to the fridge to pull out a bottled water, giving him a great view of her cute butt. His fingertips itched to cup it and haul her against him again. He dug his nails into the wooden tabletop instead as she asked, “You need help with anything around here this afternoon?”
Work. Yep. That’s what he should be focusing on. He pushed to his feet and headed out into the hall, saying over his shoulder, “You know how to cope a joint?”
“Uh, no.” She trailed after him toward the front parlor. “Not even sure what that means.”
He walked over to the worktable he’d set up in the corner. “Want to learn?”
“Sure.” She moved in beside him, her flowery perfume surrounding him. He realized too late that mitering a joint with her wasn’t a good idea. It would require them to stand way too close so he could guide her movements, but it was too late now to back out. Alex might be an idiot, but he was no coward. He picked up a tool. “Great. This is a cope saw. It’s used to make precision cuts for inside corners, which is what we’ll be doing.”
He’d mitered joints since he was a kid, and after all the mess of today, he should be able to handle it, despite the temptation of Mandy in his arms.
“Okay.” She stared at the saw and scrunched her nose. “How do I use it?”
“I’ll show you.” He handed her safety goggles then put on his own before grabbing two sections of crown molding for the ceiling. He stepped in behind Mandy and placed the cope saw in her hands, doing his best not to notice the brush of her backside against his groin by getting lost in the details of the job. “The corners need to lay flat, so we have to remove this excess wood here behind this front line. That’s what mitered means.”
She snorted, then laughed.
“What?” he asked, frowning.
“You said excess wood.”
“This is serious.” He tried to sound stern, but heat sizzled through his bloodstream. It was funny. Or would’ve been if his traitorous body wasn’t threatening to make that joke a real possibility in the near future if he wasn’t careful. Alex cleared his throat and shifted his stance, increasing the space between them as much as he could in their position. “Concentrate, please. You need the right touch to get this done.”
“Yeah?” She looked back at him, her gaze dropping to his lips. “The right touch, huh?”
Oh boy. He hurried to switch on the utility light, warmth spreading up his neck from beneath his T-shirt. Flirting with her like this after last night was dangerous business, no matter how enjoyable. If he’d been smart, he’d have walked away from this whole endeavor. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like his MENSA card would arrive any time soon. He inhaled sharply and focused on the task at hand, peering over Mandy’s shoulder. “Okay. Watch and learn, grasshopper.”
Her soft chuckle made his nerve endings quiver with delight.
Enough.
Summoning every ounce of restraint he could, Alex placed the saw in her hands then guided her movements, his arms tightening around her. “Good. Good. Okay. Keep the blade steady. Now rotate it slowly to find the sweet spot.”
She chuckled low again, and it took all his willpower not to spin her around and take her right there on the worktable. “All this construction talk sure is sexy.”
Sexy was right. Sweat prickled his forehead, and he felt like he was burning up. Maybe he should bring up the whole sleeping together idea again. It wasn’t ideal, but then neither was walking around in a perpetual state of need. He couldn’t afford to get distracted now. There was too much going on at the house, with the boiler and the damage to the basement. Maybe if they just went ahead and slept together, he’d get Mandy out of his system and could concentrate again. He opened up his mouth to ask, but a loud bang issued from the basement as Skip and his crew cleared out their equipment. It was enough to put a damper on his rampant arousal, at least temporarily.
Alex stepped back and tossed his safety goggles aside, wiping a hand over his face before backing out of the parlor. “Actually, there’s some stuff I need to get done that I forgot.” He cringed inwardly at his lame excuse, but any port in a storm. “The grout still needs to be cleaned in the second-floor bathroom. Maybe you could work on that instead.”
She blinked at him, looking as dazed as he felt. “Uh, okay. If that’s what you want.”
What he wanted was her, but that wasn’t happening. Not now, anyway.
“I think that’s probably the best thing.”
“Oh. Okay.” The disappointment in her tone made him long to pull her close again, but this time he might not let her go, so he didn’t. “Guess I’ll head upstairs then.”
“See you in a bit.”
Once she was gone, Alex decided to scour the old marble fireplace facade instead. The good workout helped relieve some of his stress, but not all. Hours passed and he listened to every song on his playlist at least twice, but he still had no idea what to do about Mandy.
He wanted her, more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time, ma
ybe ever. But his analytical mind knew that wouldn’t be wise. He already liked having her around way more than he should. Sleeping with her would only complicate things between them even more and that’s the last thing he needed. Best to keep his hands to himself then.
Resigned, he yanked out his earbuds and rolled his stiff neck.
Then Mandy came downstairs, her blue eyes bright and her cheeks flushed from working on the floor upstairs. Before he thought about the double meaning of his words, he said, “You look hot.”
“I do?” She raised a brow, giving him a look. Then his gaze dropped to her breasts and the room became small and tight…and very, very warm. Thankfully, she didn’t stop, just headed for the hallway instead. “I’m going to start the manicotti for dinner.”
...
After she left, Alex cleaned up and got his libido under control before joining her in the kitchen. “Anything I can help with?”
Mandy stopped working at the counter and turned to face him. “There is. You can tell me why you keep denying this thing between us.”
He grabbed a soda from the fridge and downed half of it in one chug before answering. The frustration he’d been battling today rose to the surface again making him even more on-edge and restless. Instead of backing down, like he should, he stepped closer to her, pushing it. “I’m not denying anything. I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“For who?” She snorted. “We’re both adults here. I want you, and you want me, too.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He moved another inch closer, but still she held her ground. “It’s easier this way.”
“Is it?” Mandy asked, the pink flush in her cheeks deepening and her blue eyes flashing. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way to me.”
His nostrils flared as he crowded her against the edge of the counter, need and lust and longing crashing through him like a tsunami. If she’d wanted to provoke him, she’d gotten her wish. He leaned over her, resting his hand on the cabinet door beside her head. “What does it feel like to you?”
She swallowed hard and he tracked the sleek movement of the muscles in her throat with his gaze, the urge to lick her there damned near overwhelming. “It feels hot and needy, like an ache that won’t go away. I want you Alex. I want to sleep with you.”
Worth the Wait Page 11
