Herons Landing

by JoAnn Ross

  Herons Landing was going to be a showpiece, he decided as he arrived back to the house after a trip to Port Angeles for the barn door that would be going in the bridal suite. They’d already changed the exterior paint color to a soft yellow, which made him feel better every time he arrived.

  She hadn’t been kidding when she said that she’d wanted to be hands-on. Over the past week and a half, she’d painted the walls of the bridal suite and another room across the hall while managing to stay out of the way of the crews. Her work was as professional as that of the crew who’d be painting the majority of the large house.

  Everyone else had gone home, or to their favorite watering holes, leaving hers the only car in the driveway. He found her on the second floor, using the steamer his dad had taught her to use, going to work on decades of layers of wallpaper. His mother, who watched all those TV remodeling and flipping shows, had told him wallpaper was making a comeback. Which meant that the entire cycle of papering and eventual removal would begin again. Thus keeping future generations of Harpers in work.

  It had first occurred to him a few weeks after Zoe had died that unless he had any secret half sibling somewhere, there wouldn’t be any other generations of his branch of Harpers to carry on the company. He was, literally, the end of their line.

  Putting that idea aside, he entered the room that was becoming uncomfortably warm and decided he’d made the right decision putting in the AC. The ceiling fans Brianna had chosen to add to all the rooms would be a help once they got installed closer to the end of the job.

  She was standing on a ladder, her back to him, earbuds in place, long, smooth arms moving the steamer up and down against the bright peacock-feathered printed paper, warming the room up even more. But not as much as the sight of her hips, clad in a pair of red cutoff shorts, wiggling along with her belting out “Fight Song” at the top of her lungs.

  Her strong, slightly off-key rendition had him thinking back on that night when they’d all gone camping at Mirror Lake and had sat around the fire ring, toasting marshmallows in the last days of summer before Zoe, Kylee and Brianna headed off to Seattle. Leaving him behind. That night alone with Zoe in the small tent he’d brought along had been bittersweet, but once the trio was gone, he’d been surprised at how much he’d missed each and every one of them.

  Every time she reached up, her tank top rose, displaying a mouth-drying display of pale golden Vegas tan that hadn’t entirely faded. Although it was a ridiculous response for a man of his age, that bared bit of back and the thin pink-and-white polka-dot bra straps riding on her shoulders was all it took to make him hard.

  Not wanting to surprise her and cause her to fall off the ladder and break her neck, he mentally went through the multiplication tables the way his high school coach had taught the guys to do whenever they got boners watching the cheerleaders flashing their royal-blue panties while doing flips on the sidelines. When the song ended with her still believing, he called out to her. When she still didn’t respond, he carefully reached out and tapped her bare shoulder, which had her twisting around so fast, she slipped down a step.

  Dropping the bag of tacos, he grabbed hold of her hips to steady her.

  She jerked the buds from her ears. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

  “Sorry.” Not sorry. Not when she was safe and his fingers were splayed on her very fine butt. She kept having him feeling stuff that he didn’t want to feel. But Seth was discovering that want and need could be two very different things. “I called out to you. More than once. But you were busy belting out about taking your life back and didn’t hear me.”

  “I thought I was all alone.” She looked around, as if checking to see if any others of the crew had witnessed her less than professional performance.

  “You were. But I got the barn door, so I thought I’d bring it by.”

  “Oh, yay!” She’d never been one to hold a grudge. Either large or small. Another plus in the hospitality business, he decided. The same as his job. He’d had clients yell obscenities to his face after he’d been forced to break bad news about unexpected costs not covered in the original estimate, only to have them turn around a few years later and hire him to either do more work on the original project or fix up a new place.

  Because she wasn’t complaining, and he was in no hurry to move them, he kept his hands where they were as she backed the rest of the way down the metal ladder.

  Before heading to the door, she stopped at the brown paper bag. “Are those tacos I’m smelling?”

  “Yeah.” He scooped up the bag. Fortunately, nothing felt crushed. “I stopped at that food truck, Taco the Town, and picked up dinner. I bought extra in case you wanted some.” Stopping at the truck, which he passed every day on the way to the pub, had been an impulse. One more step out of his comfort zone.

  “Are you kidding? Who’d turn down a taco? What kind?”

  “Carne asada made with skirt steak. Rubbed with spice, marinated in lime juice and topped with pico de gallo and lime crema.”

  “Oh, yum. With guac?”

  “Absolutely. And chips. Also, there’s Dos Equis in the cooler.”

  “That sounds fabulous. I haven’t had a taco in, well, like forever, and didn’t even know I was craving one until I smelled it. But what are you going to tell my brother when you don’t show up at his pub?” she teased.

  He put his arm around her shoulder, easily, not like he was hitting on her or anything, just like two friends walking out the door. Liar. “I’ll tell him I found a preferable Mannion sibling to dine with.”

  “Ah.” She lifted her brows. “Dine sounds a bit fancy for a taco truck meal.”

  “It’s not as much the meal as the company.”

  She’d found an old iron bench at Treasures for the front porch, intending to spray paint it and buy some cushions. They sat on it the way it was, the take-out containers on their laps, enjoying the cooling breeze coming off the bay, the brisk scent of salt and fir mingling with the aroma of spicy grilled meat, and the sight of the sailboats skimming over the jeweled blue water.

  They talked easily, about the changes that had taken place in the town while she’d been away, and how her house was coming together so well because, as she echoed his thoughts, they’d made such a good team, just as they had when they built the volcano for chemistry week in fourth grade.

  She told him about Clara, about how, despite having been born early, she seemed to be growing every day. He laughed about the burp, as she’d meant him to, and then, once they’d wadded up their taco wrappers and put them and the cardboard containers in the recycling bin, that now-familiar sexual tension, which they’d both been trying to avoid, hung between them, sparking like a downed electrical wire in a thunderstorm.

  Which was when Brianna noticed the red splotch between her breasts from the pico de gallo that had dropped unnoticed out of her taco. “I’m a mess.”

  “Tacos are supposed to be messy.” He was definitely noticing her breasts. And not in a way that suggested he was thinking of taco sauce. “That’s part of the fun.”

  “It’s not just that.” Brianna pushed her bangs back from her forehead, which had been dripping salty sweat into her eyes while she’d been steaming the wallpaper. Oh, yeah, she totally looked like a woman a guy would want to do. Not. “I need a shower.”

  “Me, too.” With a guy’s lack of body self-consciousness, he lifted his arm and smelled his pit. That shouldn’t be sexy, but damned if her lady parts didn’t begin to purr. “I heard on the radio that the weather bureau is predicting the hottest summer in a decade. They may even have to start limiting what days people can water their lawns and gardens.”

  “I hope we can get all the landscaping in and well-rooted before that happens.”

  “Conserving water is always a good thing,” Seth said.

  “I’m all for saving the planet.” There was another, long
er, more significant pause as she looked up at him through her lashes in a flirtatious way that she’d always considered overkill when she saw other women doing it. But if she was going to break through that damn stone wall he’d built around himself, she figured she’d better pull out all the stops. “Perhaps we should consider practicing conservation together.”

  The invitation was unmistakable. She held her breath as she watched him process it. Then a grin Brianna had feared she’d never see again spread across his face. And there was a sexy gleam in his eyes that she’d never, ever thought would be directed at her.

  Then, just in case the lash-upward-gazing thing had been a bit too subtle, and, although he might have thought she’d been talking about saving the planet—which, while admittedly important, wasn’t at the top of her priority list at the moment—Brianna considered WWKD. What would Kylee do?

  “I need to take a shower,” she repeated. “And I want—no, I need—to take it with you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  PROVING THAT THEY WERE, indeed, on the same wavelength, Seth didn’t hesitate.

  He lifted her off her feet, and took her mouth with his as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The kiss, which had begun soft and gentle, grew firmer, more serious. As his early evening beard scraped against her cheek and she breathed in the erotic workingman scents of sweat and musk, she knew that there’d be no turning back this time.

  “There are too many stairs,” she said as he carried her into the house. Three flights. All tightly curving. She might not be as heavy as that mattress he and his dad had lugged up to her room, but still...

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” She felt him grin against her lips as he kissed her again, causing every bone in her body to melt like butter left out in the sun. Brianna had no choice but to trust him since she wasn’t certain that she’d even be able to stand on her own legs—which had gone as limp as overcooked spaghetti—let alone make it up to the third floor.

  Chest to chest as they were, she could feel his heart pounding as hard as her own and hoped that she wasn’t going to cause him to have a heart attack. She unwrapped her arms around his strong, dark neck just long enough to slip her hand between them and press her palm against the front of his shirt. No, the beat, while hard, was steady. There was none of that jumpy fibrillation feel she’d seen on Grey’s Anatomy right before a patient flatlined.

  Once they’d made it to the bathroom, apparently deciding they’d wasted enough time, after turning on the shower, he quickly stripped. Like many men, he seemed totally comfortable with being naked and stood there, muscled legs spread apart, as she drank in the sight of him, the breadth of his wide shoulders and strong arms, before staring at those washboard abs Kylee totally needed to immortalize in her calendar. Her gaze followed the happy trail of brown hair down his chest, then further south.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him naked. Once, while he and her brothers had gone skinny dipping at Mirror Lake, she and Kylee had sneakily followed them, hiding in the trees rimming the lake, getting their first glimpse of the male anatomy. Brianna had taken definite interest in the part that her Ken doll certainly didn’t possess. But they’d been boys at the time. While Seth was definitely now all male. Every beautiful inch of him.

  When she realized she was staring, she pulled her sweat-stained tank over her head and tossed it aside, where it landed on the closed seat of the commode. Then, although her fingers had turned to ten thumbs, she managed to unhook the cotton polka-dot bra, which—wouldn’t you just know it?—didn’t match her underpants. Because how could she have known this morning when she got dressed that unless she was in an accident that would take her to the ER, anyone would see her underwear?

  Not that it seemed to matter to Seth. This time his slow, easy smile revealed pleasure at what he was seeing. A pleasure that couldn’t equal the feel of his calloused hands cupping her breasts, roughened thumbs skimming across her ultrasensitive nipples.

  She froze, for just an instant, when his hands went to the button of her shorts.

  “Do you normally shower with your clothes on?” His eyes, which had turned a deep smoky brown while savoring her breasts, turned teasing.

  “No.” Her hands covered his. “It’s just, oh, hell, I didn’t expect to be doing this.”

  “We can stop.”

  “No.” Oh, please, God, no! “It’s just that, well, you’d probably have to be a woman to understand, but my underwear doesn’t match.” And could the tile floor now open and swallow her up before she could humiliate herself any further?

  “Well, damn.” Was he laughing at her? Now? While they were finally about to have sex? “And doesn’t that just throw a bucket of cold water on my libido?” Risking a glance down, she saw it certainly hadn’t seemed to.

  He touched a roughened fingertip against her lips. Dipped his sunstreaked head and kissed her again, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth. Then drew back and smiled down at her. “I want to see you, Bri. Touch you. All of you. Everywhere.”

  How could any woman resist a line like that? But she knew he really meant it, because unlike her bad-boy brothers, Burke and Aiden, Seth didn’t resort to lines.

  He took hold of her hands and held them away from her body. Then got busy on her shorts, pulling them down her legs. He kissed her thighs, behind her knees, her ankles, before working his way back up again.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said as he stood there, checking out her undies. Which, since she’d known she’d be getting hot and sweaty, were comfy cotton. The color was technically labeled blush rather than a nun’s white. But it definitely wasn’t what she’d fantasized about wearing the first time this man undressed her.

  He took her hand, circling her fingers around his length. “I just may need myself some Viagra after seeing those panties.” Impossibly, since atoms were exploding inside her as he began to move her hand up and down, Brianna laughed. Which she couldn’t ever remember doing before while having sex.

  Steam rose as he drew her into the shower. He poured some tropical-scented body soap into his palms, rubbed his hands together, then moved them over her body, following every curve and hollow. And then, if that wasn’t havoc enough, as the water flowed over them, his mouth followed the trail. His tongue dipped into her navel and made her moan. His teeth nipping against the wet, hot flesh of her inner thigh had her reaching for him, but he’d already moved on.

  Clouds of steam surrounded them, filling her lungs. Her mind. Brianna couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  And then, just when she was sure she was going blind, his mouth found her. Her head fell back against the tile as she gave herself up to the explosive orgasm rocketing through her. To him.

  * * *

  AND THAT WAS just the beginning. Over the next ten days, it was as if they were both making up for lost time. Brianna was not only experiencing the most mind-blowing sex of her life, she was having a full-blown, no-holds-barred affair. She knew the shape of Seth as her hands explored his body. The weight of him as he lay on top of her. Inside her.

  She knew how he tasted, the glorious roughness of his hands as they traced over her curves and hollows, which he declared to be perfection. They’d come to know each other’s bodies as well as they knew each other’s mind. And it should have been wonderful. Glorious. But having never been one to allow herself to live solely in the moment, she could sense problems on the horizon as sure as the clouds on the horizon of the harbor signaled a storm blowing in from the Pacific.

  Meanwhile, somehow, by never going out in public, and him moving his truck behind the house when the crew left at the end of the workday, then crawling out of the bed to return to his own home before sunrise, so far they’d managed to keep their affair their secret. As far as she could tell, no one had caught wind of the fact that Seth Harper and Brianna Mannion were having hot sex in every room of Herons Landing.

&nbs
p; Oh, Kylee and Mai knew. But her secret was safe with them. And Dottie and Doris at the Dancing Deer undoubtedly suspected because she’d bought out nearly their entire lingerie section in the past week. She could’ve bought online, but 1) she was impatient, and 2) she’d wanted to feel the material herself. To run her fingers over the panties, bras and camisoles and imagine how the lace and silk might feel to Seth’s roughened fingers.

  To their credit and her undying gratitude, neither woman said a thing as they ran her credit card. But Brianna did notice a glisten of moisture in Dottie’s eyes as she wrapped the lingerie in pink tissue paper, and wondered if the elderly woman was thinking of her Harold. And remembering when she’d worn bits of lace and satin for him.

  * * *

  ALTHOUGH BRIANNA WONDERED why Seth hadn’t spent the past two Saturday nights with her, when no crew would be arriving on a Sunday morning, she’d given him enough personal space not to ask. The same way she’d stayed away from the topic of marriage. It might be cowardly, but she didn’t want to risk him backing away again. Better to leave things as they were for now, she told herself. Friends with benefits was, after all, downright amazing.

  Like Kylee said, it might take time. And, as much as she was already picturing their children—a boy and a girl would be lovely, but she wasn’t particular—she was willing to wait. After all, part of her journey back to Honeymoon Harbor had been about slowing down her life. They weren’t in any hurry. Neither of them was going anywhere.

  Though there were admittedly times when she’d wanted to escape the daylong screech of saws cutting tile and ripping wood and the hammering of nail guns Quinn had warned her about. But since she could see the progress happening before her eyes, she wasn’t about to complain.