by Sara Whitney
“Or maybe I’m the high-paid escort.” He smoldered at her, and as he’d hoped, it made her giggle.
She perched her foot on the seat of her chair and wrapped her arm around her leg, propping her chin on her knee to study him. “We can’t exactly unring that bell.”
“True. But we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Probably smart.” She looked down quickly, but he still caught the disappointment that floated across her face. This was exhausting. Maybe he should’ve stuck to the no-sex plan, no matter how great last night was.
He laughed softly. What the hell was wrong with him? Last night was great, and he wanted to do it again, and soon. She clearly did too. And hadn’t he just been lamenting that his recent celibacy was making this fake relationship harder on him than it needed to be? So maybe the solution had just landed in his lap and given him an inconvenient erection.
“Or…” His voice trailed off enticingly.
“Or?” Her eyes snapped up to his, sharp and interested. Fuck yes. He could make this work for both of them.
He relaxed back into his chair. “Neither of us does long-term relationships. Yours last longer than mine, but we’re not in it for the long haul, right?” At her nod, he continued. “So we take this weekend to have as much sex as we want, knowing that neither of us is going to let any long-term feelings get in the way.”
Her brow furrowed as she pulled her hair from its ponytail. His fingers itched to tousle those brown strands, but he forced himself to stay still.
“Only sex,” she said slowly. “Only this weekend. And then we’re back to being high-paid escorts for each other so we can fool the world into thinking that we’re two functioning people capable of finding love.”
He snapped and pointed at her in approval of her concise rundown. “That’s exactly it. I’ll keep convincing my dad’s clients to take me seriously, and I get the novelty of sleeping with the same person many days in a row.”
“Hmm. What do I get out of it again?”
Her stare was bold now, and he leaned forward and smiled wolfishly. “You get the house of your dreams and the novelty of having many orgasms in a row.”
“I suppose it’ll help sell our fake relationship better.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and her threadbare T-shirt pulled against the hard points of her nipples.
He bit back a groan. God, she was responsive. And that’s exactly why he needed to remind both of them about the parameters of this new stage of the plan.
“So we get it all out of our systems this weekend, and then when I finish up in a few weeks, it’s back to being friends.”
“A few weeks?” Her mouth turned down at the corners.
“I thought you’d be glad to have all the work done.” He pointed to the torn-up kitchen behind her. It bothered him that he’d deviated from his schedule and left her with bare walls for as long as he had.
She dismissed the kitchen with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, of course. It’s just…” Another flash of white teeth against pink lips. Then she tipped her head and ran a hot gaze over his body. “In that case, we’d better use the time we still have left before Sunday.”
He didn’t bother to hide his delight that she’d just agreed to turn her body into his personal playground. “The things I’m going to do to you,” he murmured.
With a pretty blush, she pointed toward the staircase. “Bedroom. I want those pants off in the next sixty seconds.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice.
Three hours, three orgasms, and one trip to the lumberyard later, Aiden was balanced on a ladder, hammering a support beam into place under Thea’s balcony.
“Do you mind if we have company during our sexcapade weekend, sweet cheeks?”
He glanced down at where his sunglasses-wearing pretend girlfriend was stretched out on the lounge chair she’d dragged into the grass to watch him work. “Only if it’s not your stepdad.” He swiped at his sweaty brow.
She wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Of course it’s not.” She held up her phone. “Mabel texted to ask if she and Jake could stop by.”
“Tell her they can only come if Mr. White-Collar’s willing to get on a ladder and help me run a string line to check how level the center beam is.”
“I offered to help you with that!”
“And I was the sexist asshole who said no to you dangling from a ladder.”
She huffed, then brightened immediately. “Honestly, that’s fine. The view’s way better from down here anyway. You could charge clients more to work shirtless.” She peered showily at him over the top of her sunglasses, then grabbed her phone to tap out a text. He turned back to his work with an amused shake of his head. Because this April was unseasonably hot and the backyard was in full sun during the afternoon, he’d ditched his shirt an hour ago. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this purely content. Sex with an enthusiastic woman, followed by hard physical work under the sun and the promise of another night in her bed. All the elements for a perfect day.
In short order, Beaucoeur’s most popular morning-show host and her accountant boyfriend appeared around the side of the house, each brandishing a bottle of wine.
“I love your new place!” Mabel called, and Thea leaped up to hug her as if they didn’t see each other at work every day.
“Thank you!” She gestured over her shoulder. “Don’t mind my houseboy.”
Mabel pushed her sunglasses on top of her hair and turned to eyeball him. “Looking good, Adonis.”
“Gotta keep my tan even,” he called back.
Before he knew it, the women had disappeared inside and Jake Carey wandered over to the balcony. Aiden didn’t know Mabel’s boyfriend all that well, although he’d helped distract her a few months ago when she was trying to pretend she wasn’t desperately in love with the guy. Of course, that road went both ways; she’d also been helping him escape all the crap that had been building up at work with his dad and brother. But apparently spending time with Thea meant spending time with her friends, so he might as well make an effort.
“Hand me that drill?” He pointed to the ground, and Jake scooped it up and passed it to him, then knelt to study the metal post base he was installing on the concrete pier the center beam rested on.
“Ah. Keeps the wood from too much contact with water?”
“Yep,” Aiden said. “You want in on this?”
“Yep.”
As far as male friendship went, that was a good start, and by the time the women emerged from the house with a second lounge chair and a pitcher of margaritas, Aiden had dragged the second ladder off his truck and Jake was similarly shirtless and hard at work hammering in the diagonal braces.
“Oh my God,” Thea breathed. “This is heaven. This is hot-guy heaven.”
Mabel plopped the chair down and settled herself in it, crossing one ankle over the other and settling her sunglasses on her nose. “This is better than Magic Mike!” she called. “Can you guys do some body rolls?”
“No body rolls!” Jake shook his head.
“We’re on ladders,” Aiden called down to them. “Definitely an OSHA violation.”
He and Jake shared a long-suffering glance from across the underside of the balcony that spoke volumes without saying a word: the things we do for these women. And goddammit, how did those Magic Mike guys make it look so easy?
The afternoon wore on to the soundtrack of Mabel and Thea’s nonstop conversation, which was eventually joined by a third voice. Aiden glanced over his shoulder to see Faith Fox settling cross-legged in the grass and pouring herself a margarita, her wild blond hair barely contained by a straw hat.
“When the hell did Faith get here?” he asked Jake. By now they were almost side by side, applying a waterproof stain to the new lumber.
“No idea. They must have sent out some kind of lady Bat-Signal.” Jake glanced down and called, “This is kinda weird, babe.”
“Shut up and let us ogle,” Mabel yelled back.
Faith added a piercing wolf whistle to the mix, and Thea laughed so hard she tumbled off her lounger.
“Oh God,” Jake muttered. “Are you three drunk?”
“How dare you?” Thea struggled up from the ground. “We are merely tipsy. Aren’t we, Blueprint?”
She scooped up the dog, who’d been frolicking around the group all afternoon, and pressed kisses all over her body with such fervor that Aiden’s jealousy flared.
“Hey, anybody got a stud finder handy?” Faith’s question prompted shrieks of laughter from the other two women, and Blue happily joined in with her high-pitched yips.
“Pizza!” Mabel yelled over the commotion. “I’m ordering, so you boys better wrap up and make yourselves decent.”
Aiden’s stomach chose that moment to growl loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, so he and Jake clambered down the ladders and cleaned up as the women headed inside to debate which place to order from. When the food arrived, they crammed around Thea’s kitchen table with paper plates and red Solo cups of margaritas.
“So Jake agrees with me,” Aiden said as everyone grabbed slices. “You need a grill for your backyard.”
“You do,” Jake agreed. “Perfect spot for grilling back there.”
“Oh, I don’t grill. It’s just so much meat.” Thea gave a delicate little shudder that had Aiden roaring with laughter.
“I’ll teach you to grill meat, woman.” He grunted like a caveman and turned his pizza around, biting into the crust first.
“Ew. Why?” Thea asked.
He paused with the slice in his hand. “So I save all the cheesy goodness for the last bite, obviously.”
“Weirdo.” She rolled her eyes, but her voice was affectionate, and he took a deliberately huge bite of his crust in response.
“Please, most of us here are survivors of Beaucoeur High School cafeteria food,” Faith said as she blotted grease from the top of her slice. “Nothing can shock us.”
From there, the conversation drifted into embarrassing high school stories courtesy of him, Thea, and Faith while Mabel and Jake laughed themselves silly. During a lull in the conversation, Thea dropped her crumpled napkin on the plate in front of her, wrapped a hand around her cup, and snuggled against him with a happy sigh. He obliged by wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. They might not be the real deal, but it still felt damn good to have her warm weight at his side during a lazy night with friends when everything was soft around the edges from tequila and the exhaustion of hard work. The pads of his fingers rested on her hip, where he lightly tapped the drumbeat to “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic.”
“Your nose is pink,” he murmured into her ear. “You should’ve worn a hat today.”
“You’re not pink. You’re nice and tan.” She yawned and burrowed closer. “Lucky to tan so easily. Gonna kiss you all over later.”
He just laughed softly and ran a hand over her hair. When he looked up, Mabel was watching them with a thrilled little smile while Faith looked shocked. And that answered a question he’d been curious about: Mabel apparently thought they were a real couple while Faith seemed to be in on the deception.
He met Faith’s gaze over Thea’s head, and her eyes narrowed fractionally. “I didn’t expect to be such a fifth wheel tonight.” Her voice carried a warning, but thankfully Mabel and Jake were too busy kissing to notice the undercurrent around them.
Thea’s head popped up. “It’s fine, Faithy. Remember how I always used to tag along with you and Leo in high school? That wasn’t so bad.”
Faith went absolutely rigid at Thea’s words. “That was a long time ago,” she bit out.
“Yeah.” Thea sighed and melted back into his side. “You two were such a cool couple.”
Her friend stood abruptly. “You know what? I should call it a night.”
Mabel yawned so hard her jaw cracked. “Yep. It’s at least two hours past my bedtime.”
“Oh no, is it eight already?” Jake asked, earning himself a smack on the arm.
“I’m not that much of an old lady,” she said primly before turning to Thea. “Are we on for yoga tomorrow?”
Thea was interrupted mid-giggle by a jaw-popping yawn. “I’m thinking not this week.”
“You two do yoga?” Aiden was inexplicably tickled by the thought of tall, laid-back Mabel and tiny, bouncy Thea getting all blissed out on yoga together.
“God no,” Mabel said. “We usually just get donuts.”
“If we’re lucky, we’ll get Faith to join us someday.” Thea looked pointedly at her friend, who merely shrugged.
“The only way I’m doing Sunday morning not-yoga donuts is if you show up at my house with a dozen strawberry fritters in a box. Otherwise I’m not making the effort.”
“Rude!” Mabel announced, and their laughing conversation continued as they gathered up the empty pizza boxes and paper plates and shoved them all into the trash before they headed to the front door.
After they’d said their good-nights, designated driver Jake wrangled the two women into his Jeep with a promise to get Faith home safely.
“Best weekend ever,” Thea said as she shut and locked the hobbit door.
He grinned at her. “You think so?”
“I do.” She smiled back, her eyes liquid in the light of the hallway.
He stepped closer until his mouth was a fraction of an inch from hers. “Guess what?”
“What?” she whispered.
“It isn’t quite over yet.”
Without another word, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time to show her the perfect end to the perfect weekend.
Nineteen
Thea was nothing but jangled nerves when she walked toward the Murdoch Construction building. She hadn’t seen Aiden since he’d given her a heart-stoppingly sweet kiss goodbye on Sunday evening, and she hadn’t heard from him beyond a quick text on Monday morning to let her know that one of his guys would get her cabinet installation underway that week.
It was Thursday now. Her kitchen was essentially done courtesy of a Murdoch employee named Danny who communicated exclusively in grunts. The slate-gray cabinets were gorgeous against the backsplash she’d chosen, and every time she saw them, she wanted to cry. Aiden was supposed to do that work. It was part of the renovation plan they’d agreed to, and Lord knew he always stuck to his plans. Except the past weekend, when he’d set his plan on fire and spent three days in her bed. And now he’d pulled a vanishing act.
Her fault for being surprised. Of course the past weekend would complicate things beyond what either of them had been prepared for. Then again, the absolute silence on his end was a bit much, and it left her confused and hurt and a little pissed.
She battled back her overly dramatic jitters as she stood in front of the big window showcasing a luxury bathroom setup that Murdoch Construction could install for a customer with a taste for marble. Aiden might not even be there, and she’d be able to get in and out without having to deal with… whatever was going on. She took a steadying breath and pushed through the front door, where all her Aiden angst fled when she took in the scene in front of her.
“Look, I don’t know, okay? I’m trying to find it, but… Unnngh.” Trip was hunkered behind the front desk, bashing his pointer finger over and over on the computer keyboard but apparently not finding what he was looking for. “Can you just, I don’t know, keep waiting until we call you about it?”
Every part of her curled in on itself at the worst display of customer service she’d ever seen.
“No. No!” He was shouting now, and since nobody else was around to do anything about it, she’d just have to step in because this was intolerable.
She walked into Trip’s direct line of vision and snapped to get his attention. When he finally looked up, she gestured for him to hand the phone over to her. He hesitated, so she snapped again with more authority until he surrendered the handset.
She leaned over
the counter, pressed it to her ear, and spoke in her warmest voice. “Hi there. I’m so sorry. I had to step away from my desk, and Trip’s been covering for me. How can I help you?”
An agitated male voice spilled from the other line. “I was just asking when my screen door would be in, but that idiot couldn’t tell me a single useful thing.”
“Oh, he’s not so bad. You should see him with a paintbrush in his hand. His color-washing technique could make you cry, it’s so good.” Of course, she had no idea if Trip was competent at any parts of his job, but a cheerful demeanor as thick as Teflon worked wonders in customer service. “Now tell me your name, sir.”
Soothing the grump on the other end of the line was far better than dreading what she’d say to Aiden when she saw him, so she jerked her head at Trip to vacate the phone area. He scrambled to comply as she lifted the phone cord to allow herself room to move around the counter and take his seat.
She was greeted with a spreadsheet on the screen that listed hundreds of names in no particular order. God, was this their management software? A twelve-year-old version of Excel? Yikes.
But she’d worked with worse. She entered the man’s name into the search bar and located him buried deep in the list. “Gil McConnell? 2628 Whitewood Lane?” When he grunted his confirmation, she tabbed across his listing but found nothing informative about any orders being placed. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’d like to check into this status so I don’t give you any incorrect information. And I hate to see you wait on hold while I do that. Can I get the most recent update on that order status and call you right back, Mr. McConnell?”
“I’ve left two voice mails already.” His voice was peevish, and the yappy dog trying to join the conversation in the background added to the general agitation.
“I am so sorry about that,” she said smoothly. “It’s been wild around here. Were you at the Beaucoeur Home Expo a few weeks ago, by any chance?”
“No.”
Geez, he wasn’t giving her anything to work with, but she forced a smile into her voice and continued. “It was incredible! You should’ve seen some of the new innovations out there. Tile with LED lights in them. Showers that you control with voice commands. You turn it on and set the temperature with your voice! I tell you, Mr. McConnell, we live in the dang future.”