by Lynn LaFleur
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you meant now. There’s nothing for you to do.”
“Hey, I can lift a hammer just like you. I may be a woman, but I’m strong. I can tote and carry and do…stuff.”
“Alaina—”
“I brought cookies.” She lifted the large plastic container in her hands. “Emma baked last night. I have chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and peanut butter. You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten Emma’s peanut butter cookies. She would’ve made snickerdoodles too, but ran out of time. They’re my favorite.”
“Alaina, I haven’t talked to my men yet about who will be working where.”
“I waved to the guys on the roof and told them about the cookies.”
“Who has cookies?” Dax asked, walking up behind Alaina.
“I do.” She turned and smiled at Dax. “My housemate baked last night.” She opened the lid so he could peek inside.
“I think I’m in love. Is your housemate single?”
“She is.”
“Hot damn,” Dax said as he snitched one of the oatmeal raisin cookies.
Rye frowned. “Could we get back to business, Dax?”
“Don’t mind him,” Dax said to Alaina. “He’s always grumpy when we start a new job. I’m Dax, Rye’s younger brother.”
“Alaina May.”
“I’ll show you where to put your stuff.”
“Thanks.” She glanced at Rye over her shoulder as she followed Dax out of the room. He could see the satisfaction in her eyes that she’d gotten her way.
It appeared Alaina was staying, whether Rye wanted her to or not.
A moment after Alaina and Dax disappeared, Griff walked into the room. Rye winced. His youngest brother had lost more weight. He would be nothing but skin and bones if he didn’t start eating. Rye had ordered a cheeseburger and fries for Griff when he met with his brothers and father at Boot Scootin’ last week. Griff had taken three bites and pushed away the plate. He’d finished his beer and ordered another one, yet Rye knew Griff needed to eat solid food.
He understood his brother’s grief and wanted to help him, but didn’t know how. Nothing he or his family had done had snapped Griff out of his I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-happens-to-me attitude.
“Hey, bro,” Rye said.
Griff nodded in greeting.
“How’s it going at the mayor’s house?”
“Good. That’s why I’m here. I have to pick up some supplies in Stephenville. Thought I’d check if you need me to pick up anything for this job too.”
“I haven’t made a list yet. But if you want to take the blueprints and my notes and wander around, you can get whatever you need for the electrical stuff. Or at least a start of what you’ll need.”
“Okay.”
Paperwork in hand, Griff turned to leave the room. He almost ran into Alaina as she came back in, coffee mug in hand. He quickly stepped back to keep the hot liquid from splashing on his chest.
“I’m so sorry!” Alaina said.
“My fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Alaina, this is my brother Griff. Griff, Alaina May, the woman who bought this house.”
He dipped his head in greeting, yet didn’t smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’m sorry again about the coffee.”
“No problem.” He glanced back at Rye and gestured with the paperwork. “I’ll bring this back to you in a few minutes.”
“We’ll have our meeting as soon as Fred gets here.”
Griff waved again with the paperwork before leaving the living room. Alaina watched him go, a frown on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Rye asked.
“He seems…sad. Is he okay?”
Rye didn’t feel it was his place to talk to Alaina about Griff losing his wife. “Yeah, he’s fine.”
She didn’t look convinced. “He’s a lot thinner than you and Dax.”
Rye was saved from thinking of an explanation about Griff when Fred came into the room. Now that his entire crew had arrived, they could all sit down and discuss a work schedule.
“Alaina, do me a favor and round up all the guys and tell them to meet me in the dining room.”
“Sure.”
She set her mug on the piece of plywood and strode from the room. Rye glanced at Fred in time to see his gaze fastened on Alaina’s ass. Jealousy surged through his body so quickly, it almost stole his breath. No one had the right to look at Alaina but him.
Fred grinned. “Damn, I do like a woman in tight jeans.”
Rye wanted to yell at his plumber to keep his eyes off Alaina’s ass. He cleared his throat to keep from doing that. “You’re married.”
“And I adore my wife, but I ain’t dead. Alaina is a mighty fine-looking lady. Will she be around here all the time?”
“She said she’s going to work right alongside my men.”
Fred tapped Rye lightly on the upper arm. “Well, she beats looking at your ugly mug all day.”
Rye chuckled. He couldn’t argue with that.
Alaina came back in the room. “They’re all on their way.”
“Good. Grab your coffee and we’ll meet them in the dining room.”
*
Rye sat on the floor in the turret. Just sitting wasn’t enough. With a groan, he lay back on the floor, his arms straight out from his body. He didn’t think he’d ever worked so hard or been so tired in his life. The last five days, he’d worked from seven a.m. to at least seven p.m. in Stevens House. He didn’t demand the same hours from his workers, or his brothers. There was so much to do here, he felt as if the extra hours were necessary. Normally the one in charge, doing so much physical work had proven to him that he wasn’t in as good a shape as he’d thought.
Dax had offered to stay late every evening. So had Griff. Rye knew Dax had a date almost every night. Griff spent his evenings alone in his house, nursing his grief. Just because Rye felt a need to work didn’t mean he’d ask the same of his brothers.
He stared up at the inside of the new roof. His guys would start putting on the shingles next week. Then the inside work began here in the attic with insulation and a new ceiling. Every room had been gutted. Walls had been torn down, flooring torn up. The house was little more than a shell. That would change beginning Monday.
Each step in the process made Alaina as giddy as a six-year-old. She hadn’t kidded him when she’d said she planned to work with his guys. She’d pulled nails, hauled flooring and pieces of wood to the Dumpsters, swept up sawdust and trash. As quickly as the crew made a mess, she was right there to clean it. She got along with everyone. All his guys adored her like a little sister. Of course, part of their adoration had to do with her bringing goodies almost every day that her housemate baked.
Rye didn’t think of her as a sister. His feelings ran much deeper than that. So deep that he hadn’t taken a warm shower in a week.
She not only filled his mind during the day, but also at night. His dreams were filled with the two of them together here in Stevens House, or his house, or his office at Coleman Construction. He’d kiss her until they were both breathless, then thrust his cock into her hot, creamy pussy. He’d fuck her over and over, never able to get enough of her body. Those little sounds in her throat that signaled her climax were sweeter than the most beautiful music. She’d throw back her head, arch her back. Rye would feel the spasms in her channel milk his cock, driving him to his orgasm.
He’d awaken sweaty and tangled in the sheets, his heart pounding, his shaft so hard he could drive nails with it.
His hand was a poor substitute when he wanted Alaina.
Rye knew the history of her father, a heartless rogue who fucked any woman who spread her legs. Alesia had been the same way, gladly spreading her legs for a hard dick. He wished he could be sure Alaina hadn’t inherited the same genes as Alesia or their father.
She’d left at three today, stating she had some personal things to do. Rye couldn’t help wondering if she�
��d gone home to get ready for a date. Maybe she’d go out to dinner with her guy, talk and laugh while they ate. Then she’d go home with him and spend the night making love.
Rye rubbed his stomach. A hollow feeling always formed deep inside his gut when he thought about Alaina with another man. He didn’t want anyone else kissing her, touching her. He sure as hell didn’t want another man making love to her.
“Rye?”
He lifted his head when he heard Alaina’s voice. That wasn’t possible. She’d left over four hours ago. His thoughts were so filled with her, he’d started imagining he could hear her when she wasn’t there.
“Rye, where are you?”
Okay, that definitely wasn’t his imagination. Rye sat up. “In the turret,” he called out.
Footsteps sounded on the steps. A few moments later, Alaina appeared in the doorway. She smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His gaze passed over her, noting the gold sleeveless shell, ivory slacks and high-heeled sandals the same shade as her slacks. Her makeup made her eyes look twice as big as usual, her hair fell in a tumble of curls to her breasts.
Stunning. That’s the first word to pop into his head to describe her.
“You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” She glanced down at herself. “I’ve worn work clothes all week. I thought I should show you that I do know how to clean up.” She tossed a thick blanket at him. Rye automatically caught it. “Spread that out on the floor.”
Only then did he notice she carried a large wicker basket. “We’re having a picnic?”
“We are. Emma made some of her specialties.”
Rye stood, shook out the blanket and spread it over the floor. “You’re lucky to have a housemate who cooks or you’d starve.”
She shot him a look that clearly said she didn’t appreciate his comment. “For your information, I do know how to cook, and pretty darn well. But Emma loves to cook and she’s incredible. Why should I say no when she offers?”
Dropping to her knees on the blanket, Alaina lifted the lid of the basket. Rye looked at his hands. Dirt filled every crease of his palms.
Before he could leave the room to wash, Alaina handed him a package of moist towelettes. “Clean your hands, then you can open the wine.”
She could be a bossy little thing when she wanted to. Rye struggled not to laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I brought merlot. I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” He sat on the blanket, cleansed his hands, and opened the bottle of red wine. He splashed a generous amount in the two crystal wineglasses she handed him.
“I popped these in the microwave downstairs to heat everything.” She removed a plastic lid from one of the to-go plates. The scent of beef curled around Rye’s nose and sent his salivary glands into overdrive. “Beef tenderloin stuffed with lobster, twice baked potatoes, and fresh asparagus.”
“Wow.”
Alaina grinned. “Does that mean you approve?”
“What’s not to approve?”
She handed him the plate, then a linen napkin wrapped around silverware. “I also have Emma’s melt-in-your-mouth yeast rolls dripping with butter. Real butter. Emma doesn’t believe in margarine. And quadruple chocolate brownies for dessert.”
A sharp knife was wrapped inside the napkin along with the fork and spoon, but Rye didn’t need it. He cut into the tenderloin with his fork and took a huge bite. His taste buds immediately did a happy dance in his mouth.
His expression must have shown Alaina his pleasure for she grinned again. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”
“My mom is a great cook, but I haven’t had anything that tasted this good since the last time Griff prepared a gourmet meal.”
“Griff cooks?”
“He did before…” Rye stopped, still unwilling to talk about Jana. “He doesn’t cook much anymore, or eat much.”
“That’s obvious by how slim he is. Did something happen to make him lose his appetite?”
“I don’t feel comfortable talking about it, Alaina.”
“Oh. Okay. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You weren’t. I understand your curiosity.” As much time as Alaina spent with his guys and around town, she’d learn about Jana eventually. Rye decided he might as well tell her now. “Griff’s wife was killed in November in a bank robbery. He’s having a hard time getting on with his life.”
“I can understand that.” She removed her plate from the basket. “Were they married very long?”
“Seven years.”
She winced. “How sad. I’m so sorry for him.”
“Me too. They were very happy. He adored her.”
“Thank you for telling me. It explains a lot about his mood. Does he ever smile?”
“I haven’t seen him smile since Jana died.”
Alaina reached back in the basket for the container of rolls. The cowl neck of her shell meant Rye received an enticing view of her cleavage every time she leaned over. He remembered the feel of her breast in his hand. He’d only touched her through her shirt and bra, but he’d felt her hard nipple in his palm, beneath his thumb.
Thoughts of Griff and Jana and everyone else fled from his mind as he imagined sucking Alaina’s nipple into his mouth, feeling it on his tongue. He hadn’t seen her body when he’d taken her against the wall in this house. The next time, he wanted her completely naked so he could lick every part of her.
There isn’t going to be a next time, so get that thought out of your head right now.
“I’ve met a lot of people at the post office, grocery store, places like that.” Alaina tore her roll in half. “They’re all very curious about me and the house.”
“Word gets around quick in a small town.”
“Most of them have been very nice and friendly. Some of the older ones have pointed out what happened here so long ago with your great-grandfather.”
Rye forked up his last bite of beef, his gaze focused on his plate. “You know about that?”
“I lived here until I was thirteen, Rye. I was young, but I heard all about the murder. How could I not have known about the only murder in Lanville for over two hundred and fifty years?”
Setting aside his plate, he looked at Alaina again. “My great-grandfather didn’t kill that woman.”
“He was convicted and hanged for it.”
“I don’t care. I’ll never believe he did it. My grandfather was only two months old when Laura Cummins was murdered. Why would my great-grandfather risk his marriage and the future of his new son by stabbing her? That never made sense.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”
Rye set his empty plate on the blanket. “My great-grandmother had nowhere to go, no family to help her. She moved in with my great-great-grandparents because she had no choice. She couldn’t go anywhere in town without people whispering behind her back about her husband being a murderer.”
“I imagine that was very hard for her.”
“She had nothing to do with the murder, yet people still blamed her for it.”
“I could never blame anyone for something a member of their family did.”
“Neither could I.”
“Really?” She tilted her head and looked him in the eyes. “Isn’t that what you’re doing with me?”
Chapter Nine
April 18, 1937
It was such a beautiful day, Laura and I walked home from church instead of riding with our parents. One of the nice things about living in a small town is that everything is close. We live only half a mile from the church. It’s nice to stretch our legs after Brother Winston’s sermon.
He pulled up beside us in his fancy car and offered us a ride home. Laura smiled and blushed. I know she would’ve accepted his invitation if I hadn’t quickly declined it. The black look he gave me chilled me to my soul. Why can’t my sister see what an evil man he is?
*
Bull’s-eye. Alaina had gotten Rye with that question…one he obviously didn’t
know how to answer. He stared at her, his last bite of roll halfway to his mouth as if he’d forgotten he held it.
“You’re nice to me when other people are around. But if I get too close to you or accidentally touch you, you skitter away like you’ve been shocked by a live wire. I promise I’m not poison.”
He laid the roll on his empty plate, his eyes downcast. “I know that.”
“Whether you believe me or not, I don’t make a habit of having sex with a man the first time I meet him. I know technically I knew you years ago, but you didn’t remember me and I’ve changed a lot in sixteen years.”
“We both have.”
“We were scorching together, Rye. And to be honest with you, I wouldn’t mind it happening again.”
His gaze met hers, but she couldn’t tell his thoughts by his blank expression. “Is that why you brought the picnic, to put me in the mood?”
It hurt that he thought she would try to trick him. Alesia must have trampled his heart into little bits. “No. I brought the picnic to thank you for all your hard work. I know you’ve put in longer hours than anyone else. I wanted to do something nice for you. I obviously made a mistake.”
Alaina began to gather up their items to put in the basket. She hoped she could get out of here before she burst into tears.
Rye’s hand wrapped around her wrist. “The picnic was nice. I appreciate it.”
Not a word of apology for the way he’d treated her. She should finish packing up the basket, get out of here and never come back. He had all her ideas. She wouldn’t have to step inside Stevens House again until the last coat of paint dried.
Deep inside her soul, she knew it hadn’t been simply sex between them. There had been a connection, something she’d never experienced with any other man. He was still a little broken from his relationship with her sister. That shouldn’t keep him from looking for love again.
It was right in front of him if he’d open his eyes and see her.
His hand tightened on her wrist as she reached for the empty wine bottle. “Alaina, I’m sorry.”
The damn tears were almost choking her. She kept her head lowered while she continued to pack the basket so he wouldn’t see them shimmering in her eyes.