He reached for the front of her shirt and started unfastening the buttons. “What’s not to understand?”
Any answer got lost when he leaned in and began kissing along the side of her neck. Tingles joined the confusion. There was a brief tussle for dominance, then the tingles won. They were joined by heat and need and a growing sense of Holy crap, this is really happening.
It took him all of five seconds to get her shirt off. Her bra followed, then he was kissing her breasts, licking, loving and sucking until she was clinging and begging him to never stop. Somehow his shirt was off. He put her hands on his chest and then she was stroking everything she’d dreamed about. Okay, not everything, but a lot of it and he felt good. All muscles and heat.
He kept stopping to kiss her over and over, his tongue dancing with hers. Their lips clung, their hands reached. Without really trying, she found herself naked and sitting on her desk. His hand was between her thighs rubbing her to a fast, hot orgasm that had her writhing in pleasure.
He pulled a condom from his jeans front pocket, put it on, then pushed home. By the second stroke she’d wrapped her legs around his hips and was pulling him as close as possible. Their eyes locked and she came all over again.
When they were both breathing like normal people again, Jeff leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“For real?”
He smiled. “Let’s get dressed and head back to your place. I didn’t intend to start things this way. I had a slow seduction all planned.”
“We wouldn’t want that to go to waste, now would we?”
He kissed her. “Absolutely not.”
* * *
“I don’t understand,” Helen admitted nearly an hour later, when she could breathe again.
They were lying in her bed, in her room, naked. Completely and totally naked, which wasn’t nearly as surprising as the fact that the reason they were naked was that she and Jeff had just had sex. Again.
She turned her head and stared into his brown eyes. “What happened?”
He smiled, then leaned in and kissed her. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted to tell you for months now, but wasn’t sure I should. And if you have to ask what just happened, then I’ve been doing it wrong all these years.”
“You’re not. I’m still dealing with aftershocks.” Little jolts that zinged through her girl parts, up to her breasts, then made a happy return trip. “But I really don’t understand.”
He supported his head on one hand and rested the other on her belly. Not her favorite place to be touched, what with it being, you know, not flat, only the light pressure of his touching her felt too good for her to complain. Plus she was already totally naked, something she generally avoided. She was a master draper. Nightgowns, sheets, you name it, she could drape it such that very little actual nakedness was ever seen. But somehow with Jeff, that had all gone away. Here she was, in the middle of the afternoon, buck naked in her bed. And they’d already done it in her office, on her desk, where she’d also been naked. So much for her draping skills.
“You mean when did I first realize I liked you?” he asked as he leaned in and kissed her.
She closed her eyes and reveled in the warmth of his mouth on hers, in the way passion quickened and how it was perfectly okay for her to put her fingers on his face or his shoulders or his chest or his dick. Although technically she hadn’t really touched the latter, except to guide him inside, so she slid along his thigh until she could take him in her hand and lightly stroke him. He flopped back on the bed and groaned.
“I need at least an hour.”
“I’m just playing.”
He pulled her against him so that her head rested on his shoulder. He settled his hand on her hip.
“I’ve always thought you were sexy as hell,” he admitted. “From the first day you showed up at JML to play keyboard. It was cold and raining and you had on a blue sweater the exact color of your eyes. I couldn’t figure out where to look first. Your face or your chest.”
She raised her head and stared at him. “You were looking at my boobs?”
He grinned. “Every chance I got. Still do.”
“I never noticed.”
“I try to be subtle.”
“You’re successful.” She liked this game. “Then what?”
“Then I told myself you were my daughter’s friend and way too young for me and I tried to stop looking. Then you and I became friends and it was nice. I didn’t want to screw that up.”
“How would we screw it up?”
“Helen, I’m going to be fifty soon. I’m sixteen years older than you. We live in a small town where everyone knows everything. I didn’t want to mess with that. Plus, I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”
She was going to ignore the messing up part—that wouldn’t be fun to talk about, but the rest of it was nice to hear. He ran his hand from her shoulder to hip, then back again.
“Sixteen years isn’t that much difference,” she told him. “The Kelly thing is complicated. She doesn’t know I have the hots for you and it’s not like she and I were friends in high school, so you didn’t know me when I was a kid. I had no idea if you saw me as anything but a friend and I couldn’t stand the humiliation of her knowing her father had rejected me.”
“Only a fool would reject you.”
She thought of Troy, but decided not to mention her past. Or Jeff’s.
“Why did it take you two days to get back to me?” she asked. “I thought you were thinking of fifty ways to tell me no.”
“I was thinking it through. This is a big step for me.” He shifted so he could look into her eyes. “Helen, I’ve never gotten involved with anyone in town. If this ends badly, we’re both going to be sorry. We can’t escape each other. You get that, right?”
A sensible conversation, but not one she wanted to have. “I know.”
“You’re okay with that?”
She nodded.
“Good. I am, too.” He lightly kissed her. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I hope you’re not, either.”
He was being serious, but his words made her laugh. “Oh, my God. When would I be seeing anyone? I believe this all started because I was complaining about my lack of seeing someone. Which, by the way, wasn’t me interested in dating. It was me trying to get you to ask me out. Either I’m not very good at hinting or you’re totally oblivious. I’m going with the latter.”
“Probably the right decision. So we’re in this? You and me? We’re together, exclusively?”
It was an awful lot like him asking her to be his girlfriend. Her breath caught and she nodded. “I’m in.”
“Me, too. Do you want to tell anyone or keep it quiet for a while?”
By anyone she was pretty sure he meant Kelly and Olivia.
While she knew that telling her best friend was inevitable, she mostly didn’t want to have to deal with that. Not yet. Not when everything was new and sexy and fun. She just wanted to be with Jeff, at least for now.
“Can it just be us until we figure it out?” she asked. “I’m not saying forever, but a few weeks?” Mostly because she had no idea how Kelly would take it. Would her friend be happy for her or too caught up in the ick factor of Helen and Jeff being an item?
His expression turned stern. “You want me to lie to my children?”
Well, crap, when he put it like that...
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Of course we’ll keep it between us for now. This is the fun part, Helen. I want what you want.”
Oh, please, oh, please, let that be true, she thought.
He kissed the top of her head. “Want to order in pizza?”
She was weak from their lovemaking. Every cell in her body had been pleasured and she knew she
was going to hurt in happy places that hadn’t seen action in forever. He was a thoughtful, sexy lover who knew how to push all her buttons. If they were this in tune after a single afternoon, imagine where they would be in a month or two when they’d really started exploring each other. The possibilities were incredible.
“You want to stay for dinner?” she asked.
“If it’s all right with you.”
It was more than all right. It was magical.
She smiled. “Can we get extra cheese? You need to keep up your strength.”
“Sure, but we both know that’s not the part you want to keep up.”
She was still laughing when he pushed inside of her.
17
Olivia knew it was time to get things straight in her mind and her life. If she didn’t like where she was with her job, she needed to change that. If she didn’t like where things were with Ryan, she had to change that, as well. Fixing her job was going to be the more complicated of the two—what with her not being in Phoenix at the moment, but the Ryan problem could be solved with a simple conversation.
With that in mind, she drove to GB Micro Housing and parked by the main entrance. She was very aware that any conversation she had with Ryan was going to be strange and complicated. While technically he’d invited her to visit him, his invitation had been casual at best. The fact that she’d jumped on it as an excuse to return home was her own problem. Still, they’d been an item and she’d once thought he was her reason for living, so she needed to get clear on them.
Not that she wanted him to break up with Autumn for her. That wouldn’t speak well of him at all. And if she started going out with him after that, then she was stupid and deserved whatever happened to her.
“Self-awareness sucks,” she muttered as she walked into the warehouse and looked around.
The showroom—put away for the volunteer weekend—was back in place. She could hear the sounds of construction and smiled as she thought briefly about offering her services. After all, she installed a kitchen sink with the best of them. She glanced down at her summer dress and heels. Not that she was dressed appropriately, but still. Maybe they were hiring.
Leo, the shop foreman, saw her come in. “Olivia, nice to see you.”
They’d met on the volunteer day. Leo had been in charge of the volunteers. He’d likened it to herding cats.
“Happy to have your trained crew back?” she asked with a smile.
“I don’t know. My Saturday folks have a lot more enthusiasm. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to talk to Ryan if that’s all right. Only for a second.” Because it was the middle of the workday and hey, he had a job to do.
Leo grimaced. “He’s not here. He called in sick.” His tone made it clear that he assumed Ryan was lying.
“I didn’t know. Sorry to bother you.”
“No bother. We’re just finishing a house. Why don’t you come see what we can do when we have more than a day?”
“I’d like that.”
She followed him into the warehouse. The sound of construction made conversation difficult. There were at least a half-dozen tiny homes in various stages of completion. She saw cabinets ready to be installed, three toilets lined up against a far wall and stacks of flooring. Big display boards had designs on them, along with lists of materials and notes about the finishes.
When they reached the back of the warehouse, they walked outside and she saw two nearly finished homes.
“We’re waiting on a refrigerator for that one,” he said, pointing to the one on the left. “It’s a special order. This one still needs the built-in furniture installed. It was a custom order and their guy is late.”
The houses were about the same size. She slipped off her shoes and walked barefoot through the first one.
“They’re both twelve by sixteen, with a loft,” Leo told her. “This first one is designed to be self-sufficient. The refrigerator can run off the solar panels or use ice.”
The finishes were rustic, as was the furniture.
“Reclaimed wood?” she asked, touching the kitchen table. “This looks like the side of a barn.”
Leo glanced at her. “You’re right. This guy wants everything eco-friendly. He has a flush toilet inside, and will be installing a septic toilet outdoors, along with an outdoor shower.”
“I hope he’s not moving to Minnesota,” she murmured. “That could be one chilly shower.”
There was a queen-size mattress in one loft and storage in the other. The shelves, bins and cabinets confused her.
“Did he say what he was storing?” she asked.
“Six months’ worth of food.”
“I want to ask why, but I won’t. If there’s an apocalypse, we all know where to get a sandwich.”
The second tiny home was nearly the exact same floor plan but the execution was totally different. The finishes were high end, the cabinets smooth and elegant. She saw complicated-looking electronics and built-in speakers. While there wasn’t any furniture, she could see where it was going to go.
“I never realized you could do so much in such a small space,” she told Leo. “I see the appeal of both styles. How on earth do people figure out what they want?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I would guess they show up with a detailed plan.”
“Some do. Some want us to help them make decisions. Griffith’s great on the design of the home but picking out furniture isn’t his thing.”
“Is it yours?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“I leave that to my wife.”
“A wise, wise man.”
“I’ve been married a long time and I’ve learned a thing or two.”
They walked back through the warehouse. She thanked him for the tour and got in her car. On the way to the craft mall, she thought about all the staging she’d done and how a few small details could make a room. Was that also possible in a tiny home? With space at a premium, you couldn’t toss around a few pillows and put out a lot of knickknacks. Still, a house, regardless of size, needed to feel homey.
Armed with a notebook and a camera, she walked around the craft mall and took pictures, then made notes. Some of the booths were well laid out but a few were awful and most could use help. She paused by the quilt display and felt her heart sink. Sally’s skill level was incredible, but no one could see it. And her prices were ridiculously low for the custom work she did. Not that anyone was asking Olivia, but still.
An hour later, she was home in front of her computer. She’d already uploaded the pictures and now carefully composed the first letter. She would start with Sally and see how that went. If the experience was positive, she would move on to other booth owners.
She glanced at her notes, then started her email. She explained how she admired Sally’s work, then pasted a picture to illustrate her point about the clutter. She made a few suggestions for making the quilts more visible in the display and offered to help prepare a book of pictures of her inventory, along with rearranging the booth. Before she lost her nerve, she hit Send.
Once it was gone, she opened her browser and typed in “decorating tiny homes.” Because you just never knew.
* * *
Kelly stared at the stack of boxes on the front porch. There were five and a couple of them were huge. Even more confusing, they were all addressed to her. She carried the first three inside, then went back for the other two. As she studied the return address labels, she realized these were the clothes Olivia had ordered for her. With Kelly’s credit card.
“Not exactly something I’m going to thank her for,” she muttered to herself. She should have stopped her when she was doing it. Now she was going to have to return everything. And hadn’t her sister signed her up for some kind of clothing delivery service? That would be a disaster. She worked on a far
m—she didn’t need high fashion. Besides, she was hungry. She should fix some dinner first, then deal with the Olivia-created mess. Only the boxes seemed to call to her.
Grumbling under her breath, she opened the first box. Inside were two dresses, a couple of shirts and a pair of pants. The fabric looked nice enough, she supposed, but where would she wear dresses?
She took the box to her bedroom and stripped down to her bra and panties, then took the first dress out of the packaging. It was a simple sleeveless style that wasn’t much to look at. The white-and-purple pattern was interesting, but honestly, she wasn’t a dress person.
Except when she slipped it on, she could see how there was more pattern in the middle and less at the top and bottom, which gave her the illusion of an hourglass figure. In this dress she actually had hips and almost breasts.
She opened her closet and stared at herself in the full-length mirror. She had to admit the dress looked good. She took it off and tossed it on the bed, then reached for the next one.
The second dress was a soft moss green, also sleeveless, but more of a halter style. She had to take off her bra to keep the straps from showing, which made her feel both sexy and uncomfortable. When she put the dress on, she realized she wasn’t showing much more than an extra inch of shoulder and yet... She felt good.
“Dammit, Olivia, what did you do?”
There was plenty of time to find out, she thought with a grin. Her dad had texted to say he was having dinner with friends and would be home late. Her sister was who knew where.
She ran barefoot to the kitchen and collected the rest of the boxes. Twenty minutes later, she was surrounded by piles of clothes and couldn’t help grinning like a fool.
Olivia had done good. Better than good. Okay, there were a few duds. She wasn’t a hoodie girl and refused to try on the two her sister had bought. There was a calf-length skirt that made her look like she was auditioning to be an extra in a Western, but other than that, the choices were...fantastic. There were at least a half-dozen really cute T-shirts, both long and short-sleeved, that she could wear to work, along with ridiculously expensive dark wash jeans that she should instantly reject but couldn’t help noticing how good they looked on.
Secrets of the Tulip Sisters Page 19