Love by Design

by Chris Keniston

  “Not really. It’ll be fun.” His arm around the small of Emily’s back, Doug escorted Emily to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass.” Sara gave Ava a departing hug. “We working girls still need to earn a paycheck.”

  “Are you kidding? You came in far and above the call of duty today. Thank you so much. Besides, with all I have to do to this place, I’m sure there will be lots of opportunities for you to slave away.”

  “Agreed.” Laughing, Sara followed after Doug and Emily.

  The back door closed, and John realized, for the first time all day, he and Ava were all alone. “She seems really nice.”

  “My sister?”

  “Well, she’s nice too, but I meant Sara.”

  Ava nodded, her expression guarded.

  “Isn’t she the one your mother and her mother keep trying to set up?”

  She bobbed her head once again.

  “She’s pretty too. I don’t get it.”

  Ava blinked. Her gaze shifted to the countertop and the array of dirty dishes. “Yes. She is.”

  Her voice was low and soft and…insecure. Oh, my God. She was jealous. Ava had totally misunderstood his intentions.

  Way to go, asshole. Open mouth, insert his size twelve foot. While his sense of male pride puffed at the confirmation that she cared enough about him to be jealous, the hurt hiding in her eyes stabbed at his heart like an ice pick. The last thing he wanted to do—ever—was hurt her. He needed to make her understand. A thundercloud of complex emotions burst inside him. Need and lust crashed against love and devotion.

  Words tumbled through his mind. Clumsy words. Useless words. His entire life he’d been a man of action. Now didn’t seem the time to change. Linking fingers with hers, he tugged her against him. Instantly her head nestled into the crook of his shoulder. She fit so damn perfectly. “You’re beautiful.”

  She lifted her chin, her gaze meeting his.

  “Just in case you didn’t know.” He smiled, unable to resist combing his fingers through her hair. Soft and silken, the strands tangled in his hands, and, before he knew what hit him, he’d lost his battle with self-control and tugged her head back, capturing her mouth with his.

  His body nearly vibrated with barely suppressed desire. He’d pushed his restraint to their limits one time too many.

  * * *

  Forrest teased her lips apart. Her tongue tangled with his. The depth of his mouth was warm and hot. A riot of feelings, already battling inside her, showed no signs of settling down. Fingers slid up her good arm in a gentle caress that had her shivering beneath his touch. A touch that was warm and hot and felt too good.

  Looping her free arm around his waist, she pulled him in. So close, yet not close enough. Pressed against him, there was no mistaking how much he wanted her. Her lips curled into a satisfied grin, as their tongues continued to dance.

  Swaying her hips back and forth, need burned inside. Slowly his mouth eased away until the loss of sensation had her almost whimpering with want. The intensity of his gaze stole her breath. Stormy gray eyes filled with lust and want and promise locked with hers. “Are you sure?”

  She didn’t care about anything else. Not her work, not his. Nothing but being one with this man. Her chin dipped. “More than sure.”

  Scooping her into his arms, his lips settled on hers again, and, curling her against his galloping heart, he carried her down the hall. In the front room, his steps slowed, and with a gentleness so fitting for this man, he lowered her carefully onto the couch. Unwilling, or unable, to break the kiss, his mouth continued to taunt and tease. Strong hands eased down her side, searing the hypersensitive skin beneath her blouse, caressing the edges of her breasts, sending fiery sparks of need and want to every nerve ending. Arching her back, she silently begged for more.

  “Patience,” he murmured. His lips trailed away from hers, tasting, teasing, nipping at her neck.

  Breathing heavier, her nipples brushing against the constraining fabric, Ava curled her fingers around the hem of John’s shirt and tugged.

  His free hand closed around hers, stilling her efforts. “Relax and enjoy.”

  He’d waited too long for this moment, and there was no way he was going to rush like a hormonal teen. He wanted to see her squirm with need and make her shout his name for the whole damn island to hear. Continuing a path of slow, sweet, feathered kisses along her shoulder, across her chest, he finally found his chance to savor the hardened tips that had been calling to him.

  “Please…”

  The hint of desperation in her voice had his own pulse quickening. “We can do slow later. I want you now.”

  Her injured arm resting lightly against his back, she used her other hand to work free the buckle on his belt.

  Bare knuckles brushed against his skin, and reflexively he clamped down hard on her tender breast. Her hips bucked beneath him, and her nails dug into his side.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin. “I—”

  “I’m not.” Frantic fingers tugged and pulled, undoing the button, lowering the zipper and tearing at his shorts, until together they’d worked them down his legs and dropped them to the floor.

  “Your turn.” Careful of her arm, John maneuvered around, easing her out of her top, sending her bra flying across the room and, finally, kissing her exposed hips as he worked her shorts and panties slowly down her legs, tossing the unwanted clothing aside.

  Their mouths joined in another searing kiss, as he slid deep inside her. Sweet friction had a rainbow of sensations ricocheting from head to toe, sending her higher and higher until, like an overwound spring, one final thrust set off a final burst of pleasure. Every cell in her body hummed with a satisfaction she’d never known.

  Barely able to pry her eyes open, she caught sight of Forrest watching her. His gaze unmoving. His eyes filled with sheer adoration.

  “You are so damn beautiful.”

  “So are you.” This was what she’d wanted. Waited for. A man who could love her, body and soul.

  * * *

  Two things tickled the back of John’s mind. The first was that, whatever this astounding woman in his arms felt for him, it had nothing to do with his money. He’d suffered the bitter taste of knowing he was only worth as much as his bank account. Being sure beyond any doubt that the passion Ava spent had been fueled by real emotions, as someone who cared about Forrest John Maplewood the man, had a sweeter flavor than he’d ever imagined. And he damn well loved the taste. Her taste. If only he didn’t feel three inches tall for not having told her the whole truth about who he was. Ava had probably imagined he owned some rinky-dink construction company in suburban Los Angeles and eked out just enough of a living to enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime vacation.

  And now, even more than before, he wished they were on a nice soft bed, so he could savor this moment until morning. Or at least have another chance, or two, to see her eyes glaze over as she spiraled over the edge. Which, despite the tug of arousal already eager to slide inside her, was not going to happen. The last thing he needed—on top of this already complicated situation was a face down with an overprotective brother and the mother, who still wasn’t too keen on him.

  “Tomorrow,” Ava mumbled, “we clean the bedroom.”

  “What color paint?” Not that it mattered, but something inside him wanted to make the room perfect for her.

  “Blue.”

  “Not yellow?”

  She shook her head. “Like the sky. Light. Comforting. Heaven.”

  The wall could be painted purple with green polka dots, and, if she were in his arms again, it would be heaven. His brain momentarily stuttered. It wasn’t like him to wax poetic over sex. Sex. Making love. Air seized in his lungs. Was he in love with Ava? Did that explain the complex nature of his emotions? The minefield of feelings dancing inside him? Was it even possible to fall in love so fast?

  Ava’s cell phone blasted in the kitchen.

&nbs
p; “Ignore it,” she muttered, rubbing her foot along his calf.

  At the slightest of touches, he was ready to report for duty. Maybe one more time would quench the longing. The room quiet again, she placed tender kisses on his shoulder, shimmied out of his grip, and left a moist trail of nips and kisses up to his collarbone. Who was he kidding? There would be no end to his need for her.

  The damn phone rang again. A prickle of warning skittered up his spine—the same gut reaction he got whenever he knew some catastrophe was about to strike a major project. “It could be important.”

  On a ragged sigh, she inched away from him, kissed his nose and strutted stark naked across the room and down the hall. No way in hell he would ever get enough of this woman. She was all his—lock, stock and lifetime. He didn’t just want to keep Ava in his bed. He wanted her in his life. For always.

  “Hello,” Ava said softly in the other room.

  Hating the honorable streak that urged him to his feet and reminded him it was in everyone’s best interest to get Ava back to her mother’s house, he slipped into his shorts and grabbed Ava’s clothes.

  In the kitchen her eyes were wide as saucers. Something was definitely not good.

  “Thanks. Got it.” She dropped her phone and snatched the clothes from his hands. “That was Emily. My mother is eager to see what we’ve done with the place.”

  “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

  “You got that right. She’s on the way.” Ava shimmied into her panties, as John ran back to retrieve the remainder of his clothing. “I hate to say this, but it might be better if you weren’t here when she arrives.”

  He fought the ugly thoughts that hammered at him. Hadn’t it run through his mind only a few seconds ago that her mother still wasn’t keen on him? Pulling his T-shirt over his head, Ava came scurrying in, her gaze casing the room, looking for some blatant sign of the hot sex that had been shared on the old sofa.

  “I’m sorry.” Beautiful black eyes landed on him. “I just know if she sees you here with me, she’ll know and—”

  “Shh.” He pressed a finger to her lips “I get it. I do.” He wished her mother hadn’t been so contrary to him, but he’d never been one to walk away from a challenge. All he had to do was lay all his cards on the table, make sure not to screw things up with Ava, then win over a very stubborn and determined mother. Piece of cake.

  Chapter Thirty

  Pouring coffee into a very tall travel mug, Ava wondered why she’d even tried to sleep last night. Forrest had barely escaped, when Maggie and Ava’s mother had turned the corner. By the time her mom had run the white glove test on the ground floor, it was too late to pick up paint. Instead she’d brought her mother home and pretended to listen to all her grand ideas for the new office.

  It was no surprise to Ava that the upstairs residence never came up for discussion. That wasn’t a subject she was up to arguing about anyhow. Between bouts of her mind wandering back to the house, to the sofa and to Forrest, following the thread of her mother’s monologue had been tough. Thank heavens she had no problem carrying a one-sided conversation.

  Rather than getting a good night’s sleep in preparation for more house scrubbing, Ava had spent the late-night hours tossing and turning and aching for a man she’d known only a few weeks. Just the memory of his scent permeated every one of her senses, leaving her hot and bothered. Not even a cold shower could help. Back in bed, all refreshed and cooled down, her mind once again replayed the way his gaze had taken a slow, leisurely tour of her. Those stormy gray eyes had seared her skin with a mere glance and left her just as stimulated as the feel of his hands.

  She couldn’t remember a time when any man had gotten so deeply under her skin. Not a single time. And it wasn’t just the sex. For hours her mind had magnified all things Forrest Maplewood. The cute way one side of his mouth tipped higher when he smiled. How his laughter warmed her like a swallow of fine cognac. The safe and cared-for feeling after the eel had snacked on her arm for lunch. And the sparkle in his eyes whenever he’d look at her drawings. Oh, how she liked that last part. There were no words for how nice it was to have someone outside the family believe in her and support her. The only thing her ex had believed in or supported was her paycheck, and he’d given her plenty of grief over the time she’d spent earning it.

  “Okay, Ava. Get a grip of yourself. Time to get down to business.” She screwed the lid on her to-go coffee and left a note for her mother. Home Depot opened early, and she had a lot of supplies to price and a man to meet.

  * * *

  John had given up on getting any sleep hours ago. At first he’d debated how to handle the next step in the who-he-really-was dilemma. Different scenarios played out in his head, until he’d rehearsed every possible dialogue imaginable. Finally he decided he was spinning his wheels. Nothing since his arrival in Hawaii had gone the way he’d expected, and, odds were, Murphy’s Law would see to it that his newly rehearsed plans would be shot to hell as well. So instead he opted to work on a to-do list for Ava’s house.

  Before crawling into bed he’d texted her good-night. The simple banter of sweet dreams and rest well continued for a few short rounds, before he’d asked her what time she wanted to get started in the morning. At least he could be assured that none of her friends and family would show up for paint shopping, which he hoped would give him a chance for some private conversation. At least as private as they could get in a mega-DIY store.

  Her response was early. And then he stared at the ceiling. Now it only seemed fair to at least wait for sunrise before texting her again. Normally he’d prefer a phone call, but, with her sharing her mother’s home, text messages seemed safer.

  Coffee nearby, the sun up over the horizon and his phone in hand, the whistling of a text sounded.

  ON MY WAY TO HD.

  A satisfied grin tugged at his lips. She was up awfully early. I HAVE ANNETTE’S CAR. MEET YOU THERE.

  A smiley face answered him.

  Who knew a silly icon on his phone could bring so much pleasure that his face felt ready to split open from grinning?

  The drive from the Deluca compound to Home Depot only took a few minutes. From the street he spotted her car, and his insides did a backflip in anticipation. It wasn’t like he could take her again in aisle five. He had to get control of himself.

  He shot her a quick text. WHERE ARE YOU?

  His phone whistled. AISLE FIVE. His heart almost stopped. Damn.

  Standing with pad and pen by the sandpaper and wood glue, Ava wore a pair of worn jeans and a baggy T-shirt. And she looked absolutely gorgeous. When she spotted his own pad and paper, her sudden laughter warmed him like an old quilt. “Shall we compare notes?”

  “Two heads are better than one.”

  For twenty minutes they walked up and down aisles, looking at everything from ceiling fans to switch plates. The old house actually still had push-button light switches. It hadn’t taken much debate to decide that was one of many original architectural features worth preserving.

  In every aisle her pen scratched through another item or scribbled assorted prices. He itched to shout, “It doesn’t matter.” While she was on a very tight and virtually nonexistent budget, he had all the money in the world to make her office a dream come true. He knew enough about Ava to recognize giving her money on a silver platter would go over as well as a porcupine house pet. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to help. He just needed to figure out how.

  “I have a contractor’s discount. Let me put it on my card, and you can pay me later.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Every penny adds up,” he insisted.

  “I’ll just get enough to paint the office and bedroom for now.”

  “I’ve already prepped the outside. We’ve got to at least get the primer up. Besides, it’s cheaper to buy the five-gallon buckets. If you consider the additional contractor’s discount, that’s quite a savings.” He knew he had her when her gaze ricocheted from the
paint prices to her list. She was a smart woman, who knew how to price a project and where to save money.

  “Can I use your discount and my credit card?”

  He shook his head. Technically she could, but his accountant would have a cow.

  She nibbled on her lower lip so long he thought she was going to dig in her heels and object. “Okay. But I’ll write you a check.”

  He nodded. She could write it, but that didn’t mean he had to cash it.

  Despite his delusions of privacy, shopping for supplies was not the time to discuss anything more than architectural plans. The remaining flaw in his early morning plans had to do with driving in two separate cars. As expected, they were still unloading supplies when reinforcements arrived.

  “Looking good.” Billy walked up the drive with his friend, the guy who had been laughing with Ava at Maggie’s birthday party.

  Her face lit up when she saw him, and John felt his fingers fist at his sides.

  “Hi, beautiful.” The guy twirled her in a too-familiar hug, and John flexed his fingers, taking in deep breaths. “I’m here to work.”

  “Kenny called me at first light, so I roped him in.” Billy opened the back of his SUV and hauled out an armful of drop cloths. “I need to get to the hospital, but I’ll check back later.”

  “Good.” Ava stepped back and moved slightly to her left in John’s direction, then turned to Kenny. “I can use all the extra hands I can get. Paint’s stacked inside. You want outside or in?”

  Kenny’s gaze went from John’s hands to his face, to Ava and then over to Billy, who had stopped unloading the drop cloths and other supplies to watch the three of them. “I think I’ll hit the outside.”

  John’s fingers relaxed. Ava wouldn’t have slept with him if she had something serious going on with this Kenny character. For a short second he’d forgotten Ava wasn’t like the others. He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.