by Tina Gayle
The ringing didn’t stop.
“Shit,” she muttered and slid a finger across the glass front before speaking again. “Hello.”
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, Brooke. I forgot what time it was.” Janet’s voice rang through the phone along with loud music. The combination jolted Brooke awake and reminded her as to why she’d called her friend earlier that evening.
With her unavailable, Brooke had left a message.
Now at...she lowered the device enough to see the time on her phone and read 2:31. She opened her mouth, ready to blurt out her question to Janet, and forced her jaw close. Damn, this wasn’t the way she wanted to handle this conversation.
Licking her lips, she struggled with what to say and revised her reply. “Don’t worry about it. I just thought we might get together and catch up.”
“Sounds great, we’ll need to do that.” The slight slurred to Janet’s words alerted Brooke.
Added in the late hour and the music blaring through the phone, she had no doubt Janet was probably drinking and having a good time. She wouldn’t welcome a discussion concerning her ex-husband. “Why don’t you stop by my apartment tomorrow? It’s Saturday, and I don’t have any plans for most of the day. We can...”
“Of course, you don’t. You never do anything fun. You really need to find a boyfriend and get a life.” Janet’s snide comment stung.
Suddenly, all the years Brook spent squashing her own desires to please her friend hit her in the face. Why the hell had she put up with Janet?
Sitting up, she shoved an extra pillow behind her back. “That’s exactly what I plan on doing. I have a date tomorrow with a man I’ve been in love with for a long time.”
“Right, the only man you’ve ever loved is Garrett Sawyer. And girlfriend, he won’t have anything to do with you. He sees you as nothing more than his kid sister.” Janet paused. A gurgling noise rang through the receiver as if she was taking a drink. “Believe me, I don’t care if you two hooked up, but it won’t happen. The man still isn’t over me.”
Surprised by her friend’s total lack of connection to reality, Brooke bit her lip and held back her opinion on the subject. Garrett seemed more than ready to move on. In fact, if she hadn’t read him wrong, he appeared genuinely interested in her.
“It’s sad really. If you two had gotten together, you’d probably already be pregnant with your first child and living the life of his good, little wife. Think of the money you’d save by not having to pay for college.” Janet’s words painted a picture that Brooke couldn’t say she was entirely unhappy with living. Except it didn’t include her goal of someday teaching.
A deep male voice broke through the phone. “Come on, Janet. I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.”
“Right, sorry Brooke, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk soon.”
The phone went dead.
“What, not even a goodbye?” Lowering her phone to her nightstand, she shifted down in bed and stared at the ceiling. The ambient light coming in through her bedroom window provided enough visibility for her to see the bump of the fire alarm and the vent for the heater. Her mind replayed her conversation with Janet.
Did she have her answer? Was Janet okay with Garrett moving on? She had stated she didn’t care if he and Brooke dated.
Still...
Brooke allowed her imagination to create the scenario Janet had described. Could she be happy as Garrett’s wife? Did she want to have his child? Live the rest of her life with him?
Thrilled at the possibility, she pictured his moist lips, hard chest, and lean body. Slowly, she drifted into a sensual dream until the perfect life turned into a nightmare.
Chapter Five
Pulling her car into Garrett’s driveway, Brooke checked the address again to make sure she was at the right house. The two-story house had a nice yard with holly bushes running next to the porch and under the front window.
Nervous, Brooke drew in a deep breath and gathered her things. Stepping out of the car, she shoved her purse strap onto her shoulder and carefully held the cheesecake with two hands.
For the last few days, she’d debated with herself the decision to come here. Even after talking to Janet, Brooke still didn’t know if this was the right thing to do. Yes, she loved Garrett, had since she met him as a freshman in high school. She wanted him to be happy. That was the only reason she’d stepped aside when he showed interest in Janet.
Now, though, things were different. He’d experienced married life and probably knew more of what he wanted in a wife.
Brooke walked up the steps to his front door. Did he really want her?
She might not be the small asteroid she was in her teens, but she still struggled to maintain her weight.
Thunder roared in the west and a few sprinkles hit her arm. She rubbed her sweaty palms off on her faded jeans. Juggling the serving dish in her hands, she managed to push the doorbell.
Shouldn’t she at least give them a chance?
After all, she’d stayed away from him during the divorce. Now, Janet had moved on and was dating other men. She also said she didn’t care what he did.
Still a small remnant of her dream plagued her, and she fought to keep a clear head as to the possible pitfalls of them having a relationship. “I just need to take this slow and make sure I’m not making a mistake.”
The lock clicked, and the door opened.
Suddenly wanting to escape, she stared at Garrett.
A roller in one hand, he had paint splatters all over his clothes. Shock flashed across his face. “It can’t be six o’clock?”
Fascinated by the light yellow specks in his dark hair, Brooke edged backward. “Is it a bad time?”
He opened the door wider and ushered her into the house. “No, it’s just that I...forgot the time.”
“I, uh...” Brooke glanced around. The living room had furniture piled in the center, and a plastic tarp covered the floor next to a half-painted wall. “Maybe, I should come back later?”
He locked the door and blocked her retreat. “No, I can have this cleaned up in no time. All I need to do is pour the paint back into the can and clean the roller. Once I’m done, I’ll fire up the grill. We can start the movie and eat while we’re watching it.” He closed his hands over the serving dish and tugged the cheesecake free from her grip.
“I’ll just set this in the kitchen and then store everything away.” He hurried down the hall.
Rain beat against the windows. The weather reminded her of the dreary days of winter, and the nights, she sat huddled on her couch alone, drinking hot tea. She studied the room and the evidence of his hard work.
In less than ten minutes, he could be done. At the sound of his footsteps behind her, she turned. “But Garrett, you’re not finished. You don’t want to drag all this stuff back out tomorrow.”
“It’s no big deal. I can always finish later.” The frown on his face showed his displeasure at forgetting their date. He walked to the area where he’d been working before she interrupted.
Brooke smiled and shook her head. “This was one of the things that drove Janet wild. She hated how you’d go off and spend time helping friends with their home improvement projects and forget to come home until late.”
The new, light-yellow color lightened the room and welcomed her. “I never understood why she didn’t go with you? I always thought it would be fun.”
Crouched down, he studied her for a moment before pouring the paint from the roller’s tray into the paint can. “It can be a lot of work and make an awful mess.”
“Yes, but isn’t that why you enjoy doing it?”
His eyes met hers, and an electric current zipped through the center of her body. She gripped her hands into knots to keep from brushing a smear of paint from his cheek.
A wicked grin bloomed on his face, and her insides melted. He set down the tray and stood. “So do you want to get messy?”
Tempted, she raised an eyebrow. “How messy are we talking?”
He stepped closer. “Depends on the task, some jobs only require you get your hands dirty. Others...” His gaze fell to her breasts, and he rubbed his hands along his thighs. “Involve a shower.”
Need sizzled through her body. What was he suggesting?
She pointed to the paint on his shirt and ran a finger over the smudge on his cheek. Should she take him up on his offer?
Thunder boomed outside and warned her of impending danger. Could she weather the changes a relationship with him would cause?
His dark brown gaze captured her heart, and she swayed closer to the strong haven of his arms. “And do you take this shower alone or with your helper?”
He caught her around the waist and tugged her close. “A partner is always welcomed.”
The steady beat of his heart greeted her hands, and she marveled at his warmth. Why did being in his arms feel so right?
“I want you to be completely satisfied with whatever...” He lowered his head and his mouth hovered inches from hers. “Project we’re trying to accomplish.”
Energy shot through her body when his lips met hers. Messy or not, she refused to deny herself the thrill of being in his arms, enjoying his kisses, or simply spending time with him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled deeper into his embrace. The erotic stroke of his tongue against her lips invited her to let him inside her mouth. Unable to deny him, she sighed with pleasure at his invasion.
His hold tightened, and their bodies lay plastered together from their shoulders to their knees. Only their clothes separated them, but his heat seared her, melting through her resistance and filling her with a need to have so much more. She wanted to remain in his arms for the rest of the evening.
All too soon, he pulled back and stared down into her face. “So what’s it going to be? Do we finish this project and head upstairs for a shower? Or do I put all this away and go upstairs alone?”
Chapter Six
An eternity passed before Brooke smiled.
She stepped back and worked her way out of his arms.
Reluctantly, he released his grip and watched as she surveyed the surrounding walls. Deciding her silence meant she intended to take the second option, he moved to where he’d left the paint roller. “It shouldn’t take me long to clean this up. Let me use the last of the paint in this roller, and then I’ll take care of this mess.”
“Can I use your shirt?” She worked her jacket off her shoulders and slipped it off her arms.
Confused by her question, he glanced at her dark blue jeans and off-white, cotton sweater. She wasn’t exactly dressed to paint. Making the connection, he fingered the buttons of his shirt, releasing them quickly from their mooring. “Sure, but you should probably take off your jeans too. You don’t want to get paint on them.”
“Is this an exchange? My pants for your shirt?” She grinned and continued, “Because if it is, I’m getting the better part of the bargain.”
“Then we have a deal?” He slipped his shirt off and handed it to her before she had time to change her mind. If she enjoyed the view of him running around without his shirt, he saw no reason to complain. Especially if it’d help get her out of her clothes.
“Gosh, you must spend hours in the gym. You are ripped.” She slipped her arms into the sleeve of his shirt and stared at his chest.
“Probably no more than you do. From what I remember you were fast becoming a gym rat, too.” He turned his back to her and bent to retrieve the roller. He had to get back to work or he might change his mind and opt to head straight upstairs with her. That kiss a few minutes earlier had fried a few mental synapses and ignited a hunger in his groin.
Damn, but he wanted her. Now, more than he had at the store. While there, he’d been able to resist temptation because they were in a public place. Here didn’t present the same problem. Reminding himself not to rush her, he turned his focus to the half-painted wall.
Stepping forward, he rolled the brush over the one spot he had left to do and tried to ignore the alluring sound of clothes rustling in the background. “Once, I finish this wall. We’ll put everything away. Tomorrow, after the walls have had a chance to dry, I’ll move the furniture back into place.”
“Then I don’t need to do any painting?”
Turning, he opened his mouth to respond, but no words escape. Instead, he stood there gawking at her like a fish out of water. Not a man alive could blame him. She stood in front of him, the perfect example of how he pictured her in his fantasies. The shirt, she initially put on over her sweater, now showed signs of only covering her bare skin. Her jeans and shoes were gone. Her sexy legs, spilling out from under his shirt, ran for miles until they ended at the tip of her cherry-red covered toenails.
He gulped in air and stared. “Brooke, I...”
“Want me to pour the paint back into the bucket?” She glanced around as if oblivious to his daze state. “Or maybe, I should fold up the drop clothes where you’ve already painted.”
Held in place by the blinding heat sizzling through his body, he choked out, “It’s whatever you want to do.”
She grinned and glanced at the wall behind him. “Since you’re almost done, why don’t I wait until you’re finished? That way, I won’t do something, you don’t want me to do.”
He forced his gaze away from her sexy body and guided the roller over the wall, trying his best to concentrate. With each painstaking stroke, he envisioned having her back in his arms, her body glued seductively to his.
The task, which he normally did with ease, taxed his muscles and stretched his patience to the breaking point. Why had he started this project today? He’d known she’d be coming over. Strangely, he’d thought he needed the distraction. Now, he wished he’d set a timer and stopped hours ago.
“Wow, I can’t believe you did this whole room by yourself.” Her words reminded him, she stood only a few feet away.
He turned, caught sight of her sexy form and dropped the roller back in the paint tray. “I’m done. The cleanup can wait until later. Right now, all I want is a shower.”
A very cold one if she’s changed her mind about joining me.
“Not a problem, I’ll put everything away while you’re upstairs.” She bent and grabbed the edge of a drop cloth positioned along an adjacent wall. The tail of his shirt drifted up over her thighs. The sight of the silky length of her legs had him moving without any conscious thought to do so.
He took three involuntary stepped toward her before he pulled himself to a halt. “No.”
She straightened. “Why not? You’re tired. The least I can do is clean up.”
“No. I don’t want to go upstairs and worry about you down here working on this mess. If you’d like to help, you can come upstairs and wash my back.” Shocked by his demands, he longed to retrieve his misspoken words. “I...”
“Wait, doesn’t a helper have to do something before they’re allowed to head for the showers?” She tugged on the hem of his shirt. The nervous movement and the uncertainty on her face calmed him.
Suddenly, he realized she was struggling with the attraction between them the same way he was. Pleased by the thought, he set a hand on her waist and drew her closer. “There are no rules. I’d be more than happy to have you join me.”
He breathed in her alluring scent, and his mouth watered. “In truth, I’m not sure I’ll survive if you don’t come upstairs with me.”
She rubbed a tentative hand across his chest. “Good, because though I think we’d be wise to wait, I’m struggling to keep my hands off you too.”
Released from his misery by her admission, he dove for her lips. He needed another taste of her as much as he needed his next breath. Like a blossoming flower, her mouth opened under his and allowed him to feed on her sweet nectar. He couldn’t seem to get enough and plunged his tongue inside again and again. His hand roamed down her back and slipped under her shirt, found the small divot at the base of her spine. The plush curve of her rear enticed him, and he sli
pped his fingertips under the waistband of her panties.
Wiggling in his arms, she twisted her mouth away from his. “Garrett, please we have to stop or we’ll never make it upstairs.”
Aroused and impatience, he backed off enough to sweep her up into his arms and turned for the stairs. “Then we best be on our way.”
She giggled and held on by putting her arms around his neck. “Are you sure we shouldn’t clean up your living room first?”
His blood raged through his body. His thoughts centered on getting another taste of her. His feet sped over the steps and down the hall in record time. Once he stepped over the threshold of his bedroom, he paused and set her down. His hands dropped to the top button of the shirt that she wore. “Please tell me this is what you want because if I manage to get you out of this shirt, I won’t be able to stop.”
Chapter Seven
The unrepentantly, male scent of him clung to her skin, drowning her in a fragrant aroma of sensual heat and set her body on fire. His face, which lay in the shadows, gave him the unfamiliar look of a stranger. Yet, something inside her recognized him and demanded so much more. He was the man of her dreams, the only one she made love to in her fantasies.
“Garrett.” She rubbed her lips along his jawline and decided to have him without regrets. “Please make love to me.”
His fingers curled around the lapel of the shirt she wore, and he yanked the fabric apart. Buttons pinged off the wood floor seconds before she was thrown off-balance and fell onto his bed. Clinging to his biceps, she tumbled with him across the mattress.
The free-fall into sensual bliss had her gasping for air. At his mercy, he raked his hands over her body, tugging, pulling, stripping away every scrap of clothing until she lay breathless and naked beneath him. Sensation ruled, and reason vanished. Floundering, she wrapped her hands over his shoulders. “Wait.”