by Virna DePaul
I was about to say, “Feel free to come whenever you like,” but some blessed, lifesaving rational part of my brain saved me from letting that slip from my lips. “Fair enough,” I said instead, managing to blush only slightly.
“Great cake,” Dom said to me, then to Taylor, “I’ll meet you in the truck.” He turned on his heel and left.
I stared after him, wanting to follow, annoyed that he hadn’t said thank you or a proper goodbye, but also sensing that his abruptness was a cover for something. He’d been hot and cold, smiling at me one minute and fleeing the next.
“Hey.” Taylor’s soft tone caught my attention. “Thank you, from both of us, for the treat.”
We stared at each other. There was no mistaking the attraction, and damn, did he smell good standing there. Like sandalwood or cedarwood or one of those delicious-smelling woods, as though being outside had activated his natural body scent.
“You’re welcome.”
“So, can you fill this top part out and sign right here? This means you acknowledge that we did the service and all that jazz.” He handed me his clipboard, where I jotted down my full name, cell number, and e-mail address.
When Taylor took it back, he added, “Again, it was great meeting you, Kayla. I see why Tabitha always raved about her niece in New York City.” He tucked the clipboard under his arm. “I’ll get you the estimate on the cost for a full renovation tonight when I email you the bill for the faucet. Whatever you decide, whether it’s to sell the house or not, I hope we’ll see you again. If you decide to hire us to do the renovations, no doubt about it—you can trust us to do right by you.”
It was hard not to gulp at his words, so I just held my breath as he walked through the house toward the front door. I was sure he could do right by me. So sure of it, I couldn’t get the thought out of my brain. That was the whole problem.
Later that night I crawled into bed, listening to the now-familiar chirp of crickets and symphony of frogs, and reveling in a sense of ease and happiness as the cool air drifted through the open window along with the night sounds. Fosterman and the surrounding countryside was beautiful, serene, and being in Tabitha’s house once again had me aware of how much life could offer, and how willing I was to grab ahold of life instead of hide behind expectations. Yeah, sure, I needed to make plans to sell the house in case what I expected turned out to be true—I couldn't afford to fix it up and live here myself—but for now, at least, I was just happy to be here.
As I was about to drift off into sleep, I heard the ping of my phone.
Groggily, I checked the Caller ID, and felt flutters in my belly when the ID showed the text coming from the Fix-It Guys. It was probably from Taylor, but it could be from Dom, too, and I found myself equally excited by either possibility.
Then I saw the text was from Taylor, with an estimate for renovating the house that made my eyes bug out.
I read on, his text being rather lengthy. He specifically made notes about what he’d prioritize and the stages the construction would go through. He emphasized that not everything had to be done at once.
Sadly, even if I only looked at the first four items on his list, I still didn’t have the money to cover it and I couldn’t imagine finding a job anytime soon that would make a major difference. Besides paying for repairs to the house, I’d have to pay property taxes, eat, get a cheap car, and keep using my moderately-priced face cream that I splurged on but couldn’t live without. The writing was on the wall—I couldn’t afford to fix up the place, but someone else could.
I stared at my phone, wondering why Taylor had texted rather than e-mailed me the bid. He’d probably wanted me to see the bid right away, instead of having the quote languish away in my in-box. I worried my lip, knowing when I turned down hiring them, it meant I wouldn’t see Taylor or Dom ever again. My time in Fosterman was limited—a few weeks, tops, I figured, if the house sold as quickly as Taylor had indicated it might.
Finally, I replied.
Hey, Taylor. Thank you for your time in coming out and preparing the bid. Now comes the hard part…I really wish my finances would allow me to fix up the place. I’m gonna have to sell, and sell it as-is. Your bid is great information to have for when I talk to that real estate agent you recommended, though, so thanks for that. I wish things could be different.
It dawned on me that Taylor hadn’t told me how much I owed him for the kitchen sink. About to add another line, I stopped when his reply came through.
Listen, I totally understand. It’s a big undertaking, and learning you’d inherited a run-down house couldn’t have been easy on you.
No, it wasn’t, I replied, wallowing in my self-pity. It hadn’t been easy at all.
At least Dom and I got to meet the great-niece of the Great Tabitha. He added a smiley face on the end of that text.
Well, yes, it was definitely nice meeting the two of you. Glad I could give you cake, too, I typed.
That cake!!!! SOOO GOOOOD. I licked my fingers the rest of the day.
Heat rushed to my core. God, Taylor couldn’t stop being sexy if he tried. If this was how he reacted to having a slice of cake, how would he react in bed when things got even sweeter?
So glad you liked it, I typed. My ex never ate any of the goodies I was always whipping up. Nice to feed men willing to eat. I wanted so bad to add “I’ll whip up something new if you ever want to come by.” But God no, I couldn’t.
Well, your ex-boyfriend was an idiot. Good riddance, he wrote, adding another smiley face.
I stared at the screen, a deep sadness overcoming me. Somehow, I felt sadder at the prospect of never seeing Taylor or Dom again than I’d felt breaking up with Grant. How was that possible? I needed to nip this in the bud now. Thank him and move on.
Hey, you okay?
Yeah, just thinking how you and my ex are so different, lol.
Screw that guy if he couldn’t appreciate what he had. Me? I’d be eating your stuff all the time. More smiley faces.
I bit my lip and smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. He would eat my stuff all the time? Holy cow, the man was laying it on thick, and I didn’t exactly mind. It was nice to get this kind of attention again.
That’s an…interesting thought, I replied, hoping that wasn’t too flirty. Yeah, right. He was flirting and I was flirting right back. What was I doing? Not five seconds earlier I’d been convincing myself to back away, and here I was spurring the man on to talk about eating my pussy.
Before I saw bubbles to indicate he was typing again, I added, Too bad we can’t do business. Will you tell Dom that it was nice meeting him? Oh, and I still need to know what I owe you for the sink.
Moments passed before the typing bubbles popped up, then his text appeared.
Totally understand. Kayla, you’re an awesome woman and I’m glad I met you. So is Dom. Can we take you out to dinner before you leave town?
My breath caught and I wanted more than anything to respond, Yes, yes, yes!
I wanted to see Taylor again, and Dom, too. And it thrilled me that Taylor made the invitation even knowing that I wouldn’t be giving the Fix-It Guys any more work.
But then my excitement abruptly waned. What would be the point in going to dinner with them? It would just be prolonging my misery, wouldn’t it? Taunting me with what I couldn’t have?
Get the pain over with now, Kayla. Rip off the band-aid.
It actually hurt me when I typed my reply. Thank you, but I can’t.
It hurt even more when Taylor wrote back. Okay, you take care, Kayla. It was a pleasure meeting you. Goodnight.
Goodnight, I wrote hastily, pressing Send before I could second-guess myself. Then, with the phone still in my hand, I hesitated. Was I crazy to turn down another chance to see them? I thought about how Taylor had looked at me earlier today. The way he and Dom had looked at me, actually.
Taylor with his sweet, charming smile, and Dom with his brooding, dark eyes that seemed to see and understand everything about me with one single
glance. Taylor with his laugh that sounded delicious, the way fresh baked chocolate chip cookies taste, and Dom, all mysterious and hurt and as dangerous as a wild animal.
Sweet and sour. Hot and cold. Naughty and nice. They wanted me, I know they—
No. No. Do not go there.
It doesn’t matter if they want you. It doesn’t matter how they make you feel. You’re selling Tabitha’s home and leaving town. That is that.
I tossed my phone on the covers and flopped back down on my pillow. It was only then I realized Taylor hadn’t told me what I owed him for the sink.
Which meant I’d have to contact him again tomorrow.
And resist temptation once again.
Why, why, why did life have to be so unfair sometimes?
7
Kayla
The next morning, my stuff arrived from New York. The movers plopped the boxes in the living room, collected their money, and quickly left. Not too long from now, I’d have to move again, so I only unpacked a few things, stuff I could use while I was here even if it was temporarily.
But for how long? I wasn’t sure how much time it would take to sell the place. I had no clue what the real estate market was like in Fosterman. Taylor had said there would be a high demand for the house, but what did that mean, exactly? Could he have meant if the house was fixed up, instead of as-is?
Coffee finally brewed, I poured myself a cup and leaned against the kitchen counter. I pulled out the card of the agent Taylor had recommended and stared at the picture of the woman. Laura Fontaine. Pretty name and a pretty face to match. How did Taylor know her? Were they friends? Had they dated? Had they ever—
Knock it off, Kayla, I ordered. My stupid insecurity was showing again. What did it matter if they’d slept together?
I called the number and spoke to Laura. When she asked who had recommended her, I told her Taylor Riggs had come over to do a repair and given me her business card.
There was a moment’s pause before she said, “Oh, Taylor, of course! I’m glad he still thinks of me. Great guy.”
My curiosity got the best of me. “S0, um, did you two date, or something?”
“Yes, we used to date—we were roommates, actually—but that was a while back. College,” Laura clarified, and the jealousy I’d been trying to hold back reared its ugly head. “The three of us—he, I and our other roommate Dominic—were thick as thieves, back in the day. Those two were so much fun. Great guys—the kind that would do anything for a friend.”
I was trying not to let the enthusiasm in her voice annoy me. Jealousy wasn’t what I needed in my life at the moment. Or ever, really. “We met only yesterday, but Taylor seemed trustworthy and kind.”
“Oh, definitely he’s both! And more.” Her voice rose and I could almost sense her pulse rate increasing.
“So Dom and Taylor were roommates back then, too? They didn’t say when they were here.”
Her breath seemed to catch, and her voice came out a little high-pitched and airy when she said, “Oh, you met Dom, too?”
I frowned. Taylor had seemed enthusiastic about referring Laura as a real estate agent, but had they not kept in touch the way I’d assumed? “Um, yeah, the two work together. They have a construction company, the Fix-It Guys. They came here yesterday to fix my sink and do an evaluation on the house.”
“Right. How was Dom? Did he seem…okay?” Concern hung in Laura’s voice. I wondered if she was referring to him getting dumped by his fiancée.
I sensed some regret in Laura, maybe even pity for Dom. But I didn’t want to throw Dom under the bus without knowing the exact history between him and Laura, so I simply replied, “He seemed fine. Why?”
“We had some history. I think maybe he fell in—never mind. He’s doing good, though?”
History, huh? Was she about to tell me Dom had fallen in love with her while she was dating Taylor? My jealousy magnified tenfold. I glanced down at the photo of Laura on her business card. What an amazingly beautiful woman. Every hair in place, makeup perfectly applied, no evidence of curves…the opposite of me. I swallowed and gave myself a lecture: whatever had happened between this woman and the two men wasn’t my business. That was then. This is now. And I wasn’t going to stay in Fosterman long enough to make Taylor and Dom’s past into a thing.
I added false enthusiasm to my voice and answered with, “Yep, he’s doing good! Kept to himself doing the house inspection, mostly. He’s kinda…intense.”
She let out a light laugh, a change from her earlier worry. “That he is. But don’t let that fool you—that man would go to the ends of the earth to protect anyone who needed it. I once watched him stop three lanes of traffic to rescue a frightened dog and return it to a crying kid. Made a friend for life that day. Two friends, actually. The dog wouldn’t stop licking Dom’s face, and last I heard, the kid still keeps in touch. But yeah, you wouldn’t know he has that protective side when you first meet him.”
“I got that sense. He’s really professional, too. Both he and Taylor seemed to work together well.”
“Oh. Yeah, they do. Work together well, that is.” Her voice grew throaty. “It’s good to hear they’re both fine. I sure had fun with the two of them. Mmm hmm.”
Wait. With the two of them? My mind immediately leaped to the same place it had gone that first night I’d arrived in Fosterman, when I’d fantasized about the two men taking me at the same time. College could be a weird time for many, with lots of experimentation, so maybe the three of them had tried some things out in bed, but I wasn’t sure my brain could handle imagining Taylor and Dom with this gorgeous woman.
First off, I was jealous. And secondly? Things like that didn’t happen in real life. They were just that—fantasies.
But Laura hadn’t sounded like she'd been referring to the three of them going to concerts and partying. Nope, the way her voice had gone all low and throaty, she was making it sound like her time with Dom and Taylor had been way more than that.
I squirmed in my seat, then cleared my throat and tried to clean out my dirty mind. Getting back to business, I asked her if she’d be interested in taking a look at Aunt Tabitha’s place. When Laura explained she wasn’t taking on new clients because she had a newborn at home, I was surprised. Had Taylor known she’d had a baby?
“I see,” I said. “Sorry to have wasted your time. Congratulations on the little one.”
“Thank you. She’s a real charmer, like her daddy. He was one of my clients a little over a year ago and things went from zero to sixty. First I’m showing some hot guy a house, and the next thing I know, I’m walking down the aisle in a white dress and ditching my birth control. Hard to believe your life can change so fast.”
I laughed along with her, but a tingle sizzled up my spine as I imagined that moment in Tabitha’s bedroom, when I’d been in a towel, with Taylor standing so close to me. Then my mind flipped to Dom, and the tingle heated like the flicker of fire.
It took me a moment to realize Laura was still on the line. “It was nice chatting and going down memory lane,” she said, hastily adding, “Hey, look up another real estate agent by the name of Logan Raider. He’s friends with Taylor and Dom. He might be able to help you out.”
I jotted down the name before thanking her and hanging up.
So much for my first task of the day. Did I cross off Call Real Estate Agent, or leave it blank?
A loud knock at the front door startled me. I got up from the kitchen counter to answer it. I barely managed to open the door when Dom ploughed past, marched straight into my house, and with his muscular arm practically shaking, pointed up at the ceiling.
“Do you know how rare original crown molding from the late eighteen hundreds is?” he asked me.
Dumbfounded, I alternated between glancing up at the ceiling and back at him, my mouth gaping open. His hair was a tangled mess, as if he’d been tugging at it on the drive over. In whatever mad fury he’d been in, he hadn’t even taken the time to button his flannel shirt,
which meant I could see his carved abs moving with every one of his frustrated breaths.
When I’d first met Dom he was reserved, quiet, broody. But it was clear to me then that he had a whole different side to him: a wild, untamed, hot blooded side. An animal side. Taylor was smooth like honey. Dom was like a whiskey that would punch you in the mouth when you were least expecting it.
I found his intensity yummy. Maybe it was because of what Laura had said, that Dom was a protector, or maybe it was because my gut trusted him, or maybe it was because his muscles flexed and bunched—
“Do you not see these floors?” He dropped to his knee on the hardwood floors and ran his hand over the surface.
I couldn’t focus because when he kneeled, his jeans pulled tight over his crotch and I was fairly certain I could see both his size and girth. It made my mouth dry. I tried my best to pay attention to what he was saying about original installation and the best valley oak he’d seen and sanding and buffing and stains and ruining the integrity of the character, but it made it difficult every time he said “wood,” and he said it a lot.
“Don’t you see that you can’t let just anyone work on wood like this?” he asked loudly, impatiently.
“Umm…”
Before I could mumble out some nonsense, he stood and stalked out of the foyer, boots thundering. I found myself grinning. Dom in a mood wasn’t scaring me—quite the opposite. How awesome it must be to be this passionate about something. The last time I’d felt passion like this was…well…never, really.
“The stained glass in this reading nook? Can’t you see it’s worth preserving, protecting, caring for?” I heard him call from halfway across the house. That man could move fast.
He appeared again from the living room. “The staircase, this railing. It’s beat up, sure, but all it needs is some devotion and it’ll be fine. You can’t throw it away.”
I sobered. Somehow I suspected Dom’s current intensity wasn’t entirely about my aunt’s house and his interest in protecting it. This was personal.