by Sybil Swift
Unless she needed a demonstration—like with the spray pump attachment that went on the hose that she was currently using to clean the upper deck. After a solid hour and a half of power washing, the last thing on her mind was anything sexual.
Manual labor was somewhat of a blessing.
Now sunlight arched directly into their eyes and she put her hand against he forehead as a pathetic barrier against the glare. Noah was barely a shadow moving above her on the next level. The wind had picked up making her huddle a little bit to ward off the unexpected chill.
“I’m doing—” Chloe rolled her eyes, pulled down her surgical mask, and tried again. “I’m doing fine, thanks. But do we get a break for rations or is the warden going to work us until we drop?”
“I guess if I need more hours out of you I should probably feed you, huh?”
“You got it.”
Chloe put down the tank of cleaning fluid, let out a long breath, and stripped off her large leather work gloves. What she wouldn’t give for a bath. And they still had another deck to conquer after scrubbing, rinsing, and painting these two. She rotated her neck until it cracked. At least the day was gorgeous, bright sun coating her in a light sheen of sweat as the waves broke against the sand. One look out across the water and her head emptied of any trouble. Long marsh grass twisted in the wind and the shore was mostly free of people, too much sand flying around for a beach day. Even if there were people, they were far enough that she doubted they would trespass across their little slice of privacy. She pressed her lips together and sighed, unsure how she felt about that.
“We’ll have to make it quick and eat out here. We have to wait for the solution to foam and start scrubbing with the hand brooms afterward. We can’t leave the cleaner on too long or it’ll strip the boards.”
He wiped a slick, tan forearm across his forehead.
Somewhere in their cleaning process, Noah had stripped off his sweater, and he wore nothing but a surgical mask around his neck. Which did nothing to hinder her marvelous view. Jesus, he was—handsome was trite and gorgeous didn’t do him a thread of credit. Noah wasn’t super toned like a body builder or anything. No, he was long and lean with thinly veiled muscle like a part-time swimmer with abs that kicked any Olympian’s ass.
With a small squeak, she averted her gaze, and barely kept from drooling all over her loaned, sock-stuffed work boots. He crossed his arms, covering his flat, copper-colored nipples with his deliciously lickable forearms. The very same that had held her close mere hours ago.
“How ‘bout that lunch?”
“Any preference?” He asked.
“Nope.”
Anything that would get him out of her line of sight, stat.
“I’ll be back soon. Pull up a chair and rest your back. I’m going to need you in good shape for the next couple hours and the spa is closed.”
He dragged a chair over through the sand and across the wood with a screeching scrape that nearly made her cover her ears.
“Sit.”
She stared at him avoiding looking at anything below the neck. He raised his brows and cocked his head. So he was being nice—it didn’t mean she had to follow his orders or anything. She’d sit when she wanted to.
“You waiting for me to pull it out for you, too?”
“You’re wasting time,” she sing-songed, tapping her foot.
“Right. Foam.”
With an unreadable glance that swept her from head to toe, he quickly licked his lips, and walked toward the house. Unobstructed, luscious male ass filled her vision. Chloe grumbled and plopped into the chair facing the ocean, arms and legs spread wide like a deflated swimming toy.
This craziness must stop. Clearly, the man wasn’t interested, because he hadn’t made the slightest advance when she’d tried to kiss him. In fact, he probably couldn’t have been anymore crystal if he’d held up a sign.
“Doesn’t kiss crazy patients with relationships issues. Seek help and try again,” she mumbled with a humph while she watched the waves crash.
Why did it even matter? Sure, she was horny, but was she such a little slut from Slutonia that she couldn’t wait a week to get back to civilization and shag some nice, thoroughly drunk stranger she’d met at a bar like a normal person? Nope, it was all about restraint. Even if he’d been interested, Noah was too close for comfort to be rebound guy—not that she wanted one.
But none of it mattered because he didn’t take the bait. Maybe part of her should have been mad about it. She wouldn’t be able to stay here three days, let alone a whole week, if Noah had taken her up on her offer and then tried to play nicey-nice every day. His pity would be the death of any kind of tentative friendship they were forming and she enjoyed his company. Noah was certainly better than hours of self-taught meditation or spirit guide training she could pick up in the house.
Ah, shit she was supposed to be monitoring the deck and instead she’d created an elaborate mental roadblock for her attraction. No wonder Eric had dumped her, she was so serious about Noah—what had she been like after three months with her long distance boyfriend in China? Angels could only hope she was nothing like her mother. With a spine tingling shudder, she shifted off the chair, and took a look at the deck.
Noah was banging around in the house, so hopefully that meant food was on its way to her grumbling tummy. She stuffed her hands into her back pockets, and glanced up toward the sliding glass door up a deck. Sure, the house was awesome, even if it did need some work. Too bad she couldn’t enjoy it—who knew where her thoughts would land if she had even a second to herself.
* * *
First thing was first, before lunch he had to lock down Chloe’s mother on extending her daughter’s stay while also convincing her to add to her substantial tab. Noah cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat. One phone call he wasn’t excited to make at all. Who was he kidding, the phone was the bane of his existence. There was no phone call on the face of the earth that excited him—not even when he was thirteen, delusional, and had a mad crush on Britney Spears. If she would have called he would have thrown the phone. As he banged around the office looking for the cordless, he had the same childish impulse. But Chloe was waiting for him. Her expectations drove him to get over himself before his fingers wrapped around the head of the cordless and he flung himself back into the desk chair enjoying the mini ride as it shot across the hardwood.
Without much thought he dialed the number he’d taken down in the reservations book for emergencies. Either way, it was going to be uncomfortable. A whoosh of air left his lungs. His tongue seemed to expand until his mouth seemed clumsy, too full. At the same time he grasped the phone for dear life while cold sweat beaded on his brow.
“Hello? May I ask who’s calling?” A perky female voice played into his ear and Noah’s brows drew low.
“I’m…um…uh…I…need to…spea-a-a-k to…uh…Mrs. Barnes. It’s…” Noah coughed into his fist, mind a sudden blank and his temples buzzed with pure fear.
“This is her personal assistant, I see you’re calling from a North Carolina area code. Are you from The Ex-Retreat? It’s marked down on my list of possible emergency numbers for Mrs. Barnes’s daughter. Is that correct?” Her tone of voice was softer, slower and he tried not to resent the change down to his curled toes.
“Yes,” Noah ground out through his teeth focusing on keeping his speech clear.
“How may I help you then?”
“Ms. Barnes wants…to…extend…her stay. We were hoping…her mother…would be…accommodating to the…idea.” Noah forced out it all out knowing his control was slowly slipping away. His pulse thundered in his ears. He switched hands and wiped the other one on his pants leg before closing his eyes.
“Please hold, I’ll ask her for you.”
The moment of silence was a blessing. Free of expectations and pressure, Noah’s shoulders slumped forward as he rubbed his mouth with his free hand. There was a muffled noise over the other end of the phone.
Noah nodded before he realized she couldn’t see his response.
“Won’t…be a…problem.”
“Lovely. You can also email me all that information, if you’d prefer?”
He sensed the last bit was tacked on for his benefit.
“Sure.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
Noah dropped the phone onto the table flinching at the clatter before he resumed his deep breathing exercises trying to get a handle on his demons. As if there was a leash big enough to contain them all. He jerked back to the present, quickly typing and sending off the emails that Chloe’s mother had wanted from him.
Next up, food, which he’d already dropped the ball on tonight. The idea of Chloe being less than pleased niggled low in his gut until he rubbed his stomach, got off his ass, and went into the kitchen. Why the hell was punctuality so important? As he clattered in the kitchen a flash of her expression flitted through his mind right before he’d denied her advances.
A dick move, but it was necessary. She may think she wanted him now, but he couldn’t risk…he knew plenty about wanting things he could never have and he’d be damned if he played that game again. No matter how many times his cock persuaded him to the dark side.
“You hear that?” He looked down the line of his body with a rueful laugh.
If a man had a good body most people didn’t care too much what came out of his mouth. A good fallback plan Noah had utilized since sophomore year of high school when he tried out for track and figured out that being “shy” made girls like him that much more because he was mysterious or something. He couldn’t play that act on Chloe, she’d see right through him, and cut through all the bull.
Again her expression, open, hungry, and so greedy. How could he ignore her eyes on him? She’d practically eye raped him all afternoon. Noah went through the motions of making dinner knowing full well he could be pious all he liked, but if she told him what to do—point blank what she wanted from him—he’d crumble. Despite the slick voice in his head reminding him that fancy city girls didn’t have much room in their lives for quiet, loner guys.
He flipped the grilled cheese and sighed. At least he was making good time. The idea of pissing her off set his teeth on edge. What was she really going to do? Nothing, he didn’t think. But then there was another voice, another idea, that poked against his thoughts until hr was growling like a caged animal. Sometimes when he riled her up it was the highlight of his day.
Where would all that pent up aggression she’d aimed at him go? He could think of some good ways to expend it all.
Inney, meeny, miney, mo.
His cock pulsed and he once again tried to shove rational thought into his barely working brain. Between the mental hangups, the issues, the damn drama that came with being in his shoes on a day to day basis, he’d promised Polly to behave himself while she was away. Which meant no canoodling with the opposite sex at her place of business.
The scent of burning bread and butter flared up to Noah’s nostrils and he swore before turning off the burner.
She made him vulnerable.
* * *
The glass door “thunked” and she made like she was busy spraying some more of the deck. Footsteps were drowned out by the steady stream of cleaner turning the bleached wood a dark walnut.
“What are you doing?” Noah shouted and poked her hard in the back.
She decompressed the handle, lifting her finger with a confused expression.
“Don’t do that without your safety items on,” he practically ground out through clenched teeth. He put two covered plates on the plastic end table and he picked up her gloves from the ground. “These—” He took two long strides toward her and jerked the mask from around her neck. “and this, at all times. No excuses. No substitutions. You don’t screw around with these kinds of chemicals, Chloe.”
“Okay…I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
“No, do-do-don-don’t beee sorry. Be safe. While you’re here you’re un-un-der my protection. Polly wouldn’t be pleased to get a lawsuit and considering I just go-got off the phone with your mother confirming your longer stay he-here, I’m more tha-than positive she’d start proceedings in a ho-ho-hot minute.”
Chloe couldn’t keep the grin off her face, despite the serious nature of his lecture.
“Did you call me a hoe?” she teased with a small laugh leaning one hip against the chair.
He colored to his hairline in less than a snap, a shade of red so bright it wouldn’t have come from nature. His lips thinned and he threw her mask to the deck. As if he couldn’t stop himself, his laughter barked out of his mouth while his large hand scraped down his jaw. He had a beautiful smile. So open, kind, and a bit unwilling.
“It was there,” she offered as a somewhat sheepish explanation.
He took several deep breaths and seemed to get himself together, before meeting her eyes.
“Yeah,” he conceded. “I just need you to be careful. I’m not very good at first aid and if I’m being honest, blood pretty much freaks me out.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Well, why don’t you uncover those plates so I can get to know more about you? This is way more amusing than waiting for a deck to foam.”
“Yeah, because anything can compete with that.” He laughed and moved to the plates.
“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”
He whipped off the napkin’s covering the plates and she couldn’t stop herself from breaking into a broad grin. Noah was unreal.
“For your hard work, madam.”
Noah bowed, rippling every muscle in his upper body as he held out the pale green ceramic plate with a grilled cheese in the shape of a star. He’d made her a gold star for lunch. Oh, this was no good—well, it was good, because she liked cheese an awful lot—but, ugh, his gesture sent her stomach plummeting to her wobbly knees.
“Thank you,” she managed to mumble while taking the plate with shaking fingers and shifting back into her chair which mirrored his side by side looking out toward the ocean.
“Only the best for my guest during her stay,” he mimicked a hoity-toity accent before sitting in the other chair.
She watched from the corner of her eye as he kicked off his work boots, peeled off his socks, and dug his toes into the sand with a sensual groan that knotted every muscle inside her body. A beam of sunshine skipped across the firm line of his jaw. She continued chewing a point off the star and swallowed hard, before dragging her gaze away. This was bordering on the ridiculous. In a little while she’d need a passport for Crazytown.
“What do you do when you’re not babysitting your sister’s property, Noah?”
“I didn’t say I’d answer anything.”
“You have to give me something. It’s not like that’s a personal question.”
“What will you give me for my answer?”
“Excuse me?” She nearly choked on her mouthful.
“Do I need to repeat myself? Is your hearing going again?”
“Terms.”
“Drinks first.”
He put down his plate and went to the cooler they’d moved off to the side onto the sand. After a bit of rummaging—which she was sure was a ruse for him to think over what trouble he was going to cause her—he reappeared with two long necked beers. The, sharp, spicy Jamaican kind. Another bite of the creamy, buttery grilled cheese and she was going to badly need a gulp of that goodness. She watched as he used the edge of the table as well as his palm to open them and handed her one of the bottles.
When she reached for it their fingers brushed together and she fought not to jerk back. Noah blinked. The sun shifted across hi
s silver wire frames as she was blinded for a second. Without letting the opportunity out of her grasp, she pulled her beer from his grasp, and took the longest swig of her life. Bitter, spiced bubbles slid down her throat. Any excuse to not address what the hell he wanted for his answers.
“Good,” she said after half the beer was drained.
“I can see that.”
He lifted his beer in the air with a quick tilt and a question in his brown gaze.
“What?”
He leaned over way too close to her chair, grabbed her arm holding the beer, and clinked their bottles together. Oh, she knew that. Of course.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers,” she repeated like a dullard.
Now what dastardly plot did he have up his sleeve?
Chapter Five
“Cook,” he said while leaning back into his chair. She missed the comfortable shade of his body, contrasted with the thick heat against her skin from the press of him.
“And you’d mean—what?”
“I answer questions, you cook for me tonight. I don’t mind cooking once and awhile, but if you’re going to split the manual labor with me we might as well halve the kitchen time, too.”
“Do you value your intestines? Because they’ll be in the toilet by the end of the night, guarantee it.”
“There’s no way in the world you can be that bad.”
“Trust me.”
“Do you want your answers or not?”
“Not enough to put your life in jeopardy!”
“My favorite color’s green, when I’m not taking care of this place on the off-season I’m working as tech support for a software company, and my favorite book is Stardust by Neil Gaiman. There, now you have to cook for me and I’ve forced your hand.”
“You. Are. A Jerk.”
“Clearly. You. Don’t. Like. Cooking.”
“No shit,” she grumbled.
“You gonna ask anything else?”
“Foam’s done.”
Noah’s head whipped around as he shoved his grilled cheese in his mouth.