Feeding the Fire: A Rosewood Novel

by Andrea Laurence

  She could recover from this, it would just take time. If she could get one bedroom done, at the very least, she could get her bed out of the living room. Then she could save up to do the rest. She was picking up more of her own clients and was hired to do the hair and makeup for a wedding in a few weeks. That was good money. And maybe if Adelia started having her hair done at the salon more often, she’d draw in more clientele with high-end hair needs. That meant higher commissions and, hopefully, higher tips.

  All was not lost. It just felt that way in the moment.

  Then the doorbell rang. At first, Pepper reached for her phone, thinking she had a text, then realized it was her doorbell.

  No one had ever rung her doorbell before, so she hadn’t been entirely sure it worked. One less thing to fix, she supposed.

  Getting up, Pepper peered out the peephole to see who was outside. It was Grant, looking quite spiffy for this early hour on a Sunday morning in a pair of khakis and a blue polo shirt. She doubted he’d come from church. He had something in his hands, but she couldn’t tell what it was through the tiny spyglass. It didn’t matter.

  “Go away!” she shouted. She wasn’t letting him into her house. For one thing, it was a mess and would be for longer than she’d hoped. For another, she was wearing flannel pajama pants and a thin, cotton tank top with no bra. Her hair was up in a messy bun. She hadn’t even brushed her teeth yet. Never mind the fact that she was mad at him, although he’d done nothing wrong.

  “Let me in, Pepper,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  “No we don’t. Time is money. I may be broke, but I’ve got time and I’m not wasting it on you.”

  “You’re going to, because I’m not leaving until you let me in.”

  Pepper would see about that. She backed away from the door to let him wait it out. But just in case she was wrong, she darted into the bathroom to brush her teeth and slip on her robe. She wasn’t about to give him a nipple show.

  Five minutes later, she returned to the door and he was still standing there. With a sigh, she opened the door and looked at him with an expression of exasperation. “What do you want, Grant?”

  “I want to talk to you about last night.”

  “Unless you’ve got a check for four grand to buy yourself out of my debt, I’m not interested.”

  “I’ve got something better. This is for you.” He held out the bundle in his hands, and she finally got a good look at what he was holding.

  It looked like a bouquet of some kind, but instead of flowers wrapped in paper, it was tools and paintbrushes wrapped in a drop cloth and tied with a heavy-duty extension cord. She spied caulk, a drywall saw, duct tape, a wrench, a level, a box cutter, a measuring tape, and even a tiny bottle of vodka. It was a sweet thing to do. She needed the majority of the things in his hands, but she couldn’t accept it.

  “Grant—” she began, but he interrupted.

  “No, listen to me. You’ve paid your money and there’s nothing we can do about that now. So, like it or not, I’m your date. Last night, I got to thinking about how you weren’t really into Valentine’s Day, so I’m coming to you with a counteroffer. Instead of flowers and dinner in Birmingham, how about you get me for a week of free labor to help you around the house?”

  Pepper was missing something. He was offering himself up for the whole week? That was an awful lot in exchange for what should’ve been just one night. “Free labor?”

  “Yes. I’m no electrician, but I’m pretty handy. I can help with a lot of things, and for the things I can’t do, I know someone who can do it and give you a good deal on it. That’s got to be better than roses, right?”

  It was definitely better than roses, but there had to be a catch. “Don’t you have fires to put out?”

  “It just so happens that I’m going into a long stretch off. I don’t go back to work again until the sixteenth, so I’ve got nothing to do this week but help you here.”

  Pepper didn’t know what to say. “What’s the catch, Grant? There has to be a catch.”

  “There’s no catch, Pep. Well, that’s not true. There’s one catch—you have to let me into your house.” Pepper frowned at him. He was right, of course, whoever worked on her house would have to come in. That was just a sacrifice she’d have to make for the house to ever get better.

  “You could start by inviting me in now,” Grant said with a hopeful smile. “I’ve already seen part of it.”

  “Through teary, swollen eyes.”

  Grant frowned at her. “Come on, Pepper. Let me help you.” She needed his help and damn it if it didn’t grate at her soul.

  “Okay, fine,” she said. She took a large step back, opening the door so he could come inside. After she closed the door, he handed her the “bouquet.”

  “This has a little bit of everything a homeowner needs, I think.”

  “The vodka is a nice touch,” she said with a wry smile.

  “I thought so.”

  Pepper carried the bundle into the kitchen, where she set it on her small table in the breakfast nook. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’d love some.”

  She busied herself pouring him a cup. After she handed it over, she told him to have a seat. “I’m going to put on some clothes and I’ll be right out.”

  She waited for him to make some smart comment along the lines of “don’t bother” or “need some help taking those off?” but he just nodded and sipped his coffee.

  Interesting.

  Pepper grabbed some clothes out of her armoire and disappeared into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she emerged looking much more presentable. She picked up her own cooling mug of coffee, reheated it with a splash of fresh coffee, and sat down at the table with Grant.

  “So you’re serious about this?” she asked. She wasn’t about to get her hopes up for nothing.

  He nodded. “I am. After you left last night, I found out what happened with my grandmother. I have to admit I thought it was odd you’d bid that much on me considering how much you’ve protested, but I was flattered.”

  Pepper eyed him over her mug. “Has your ego recovered from the hard blow of the truth?”

  He shrugged and smiled. “The truth is a complicated thing. Deep down, I think that you’re interested in a relationship with me, but you hold back for your own reasons. Even with the temptation, four thousand dollars is a lot of money. I wouldn’t even pay four grand for me.”

  “Well, I wonder about the woman who bid right before me. She really wanted you.”

  Grant looked at her and grinned. “You didn’t see who it was?”

  “No. I was getting ready to leave, which is why I had my paddle in my hand.”

  “It was Dorothy Baker.”

  Pepper’s eyes grew wide. “Miss Dotty?” He nodded. “To be honest, I was a little scared by the prospect. All things considered, I’m glad you got water dumped on you, at least selfishly.”

  “I thought Blake had a list of people to save you from if they bid?”

  “He did. It never occurred to me that someone like Dotty would bid, though, so she wasn’t on the list.”

  Just the thought of Miss Dotty out on a date with Grant was enough to build a bubble of laughter in her throat. Then Grant said, “She patted my rear end last year at the Fourth of July picnic,” and Pepper lost it. She had to set her mug of coffee down, she was laughing so hard.

  Before too long, Grant joined her. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, her newly applied mascara well on its way to running down her cheeks. But it helped. Screaming and worrying hadn’t done a damn thing, but a little hope and a dose of laughter, courtesy of Grant, had done the trick. She felt a lot better about the world in general.

  “My original point,” Grant said after they had both calmed down, “was that I know how important working on your house is to you. Coming here and helping you out is the least I can do. I mean it. I’m not trying to just butter you up or get you into bed. Although . . .” he said with a grin, “if it
happens, it happens. But that’s not why I’m coming to your house every day.”

  Pepper never expected to wake up to an offer like this, but she was very grateful for it. Labor was expensive. If he could make the most of the materials she could buy, maybe the auction wouldn’t be as big a tragedy as she thought it was.

  “Okay,” she said at last. “Thank you. You’re right, this is way better than flowers and dinner.”

  Grant smiled wide and finished off his coffee. “So why don’t you show me what I’m in for. I want you to show me everything so we know the most important things to work on. Don’t hide something because you’re embarrassed. I know how you are about people seeing this place.”

  “Okay.” Pepper set down her cup and picked up her to-do list. She covered a couple of minor upgrades she wanted to look into in the kitchen, then led him into the back of the house, where no one, not even Pepper, tended to go.

  Grant listened attentively, tugging lightly at drooping wallpaper and testing squeaky floors with his heavy boot. They looked over the windows and drywall, then he took a flashlight and bravely crawled under her house to examine the home’s structure and plumbing from the crawl space.

  When he crawled out, he dusted his hands off on his khakis and nodded. “I can see where the problem is and I think I can fix that myself. We just need to reinforce the floor joists in that bedroom with some two-by-fours.”

  “Really?” Pepper said, feeling hopeful. She’d worried that was going to be an expensive undertaking.

  “Yep. I think we can put a pretty serious dent in your to-do list.”

  “Great. What do we start with?”

  “We start with another cup of coffee and one of those blueberry muffins I saw on the counter in the kitchen. While we eat that, we’ll make a list of everything we need to buy at the hardware store tomorrow and plan out our strategy of attack.”

  Chapter 7

  Adelia Chamberlain was a bloody genius.

  Well, her plan did have some flaws—like Grant spending hours freezing beneath Pepper’s house with God knows what creatures while he reinforced the bedroom floor and checked for other weak areas—but for the most part, it was working.

  With every item they ticked off Pepper’s to-do list, he could feel her resistance fading. After they spent a couple hundred dollars at the hardware store and hauled it all inside, she smiled at him. When he fixed the floor of the bedroom, she hugged him. After they painted that bedroom and hung her new ceiling fan, he got a kiss on the cheek and takeout.

  This was a reward system he could get behind.

  Grant wasn’t sure what part of his new seduction plan was the magic ingredient. Maybe it was because he’d dropped the suave seduction shtick and was trying to be as genuine as he could stand to be. Or it might be because he was doing something nice for her without expecting something in return.

  She didn’t need to know it was motivated in part by guilt and in part by those plump, pink lips of hers. But maybe . . . just maybe . . . it was because he had spent a good part of the last few days hot, sweaty, and half-naked.

  They were three hours into the second day when he lost his shirt. After he’d reinforced the subfloor, he’d started sanding the wood floors in both bedrooms and the hallway. Even with the big floor sander, it was hot, dusty work, and by the time he’d finished sweeping up, his shirt was plastered to his chest.

  He’d whipped it over his head and kept going. That’s when he noticed Pepper watching him. She was sweeping, or she was supposed to be, but out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she was more focused on admiring him. It was only right that he give her something to truly admire. Casually, he yawned and stretched, flexing every hard muscle he had. The motion narrowed his waist, making his jeans slip lower onto his hips and reveal the tantalizing cut of his muscles down into his groin that the women always seemed to go crazy over.

  Pepper was stone-still in the hallway, so he decided to push her one step further. Reaching down for the damp rag he’d been using to wipe his face, he poured a little water from his water bottle onto it. Lifting it over his head, he tipped his face up and twisted the towel. The cool shower of water dripped down onto his face and shoulders, dampening his hair and rushing down the channels of his muscles, leaving his chest and abs glistening and damp. It felt wonderful, but the soft gasp in the hallway was his true reward.

  When he opened his eyes, Pepper was gone, but he knew it wasn’t an opportunity lost. It was apparently the first volley in a silent war of seduction.

  When the floors were clean, he cut in the edges and corners with the polyurethane, then used the roller to put out the first layer. He painted his way out of both bedrooms and down the hall into the living room. There, he found Pepper painting the dining room. The first day, she’d moved all the boxes out of the dining room and into the breakfast nook, and then she had wrestled with removing the ugly wallpaper that had been on the walls since before they were born. Now, she’d finally gotten to painting. She was on a stepladder, applying a second coat of a deep burgundy paint to the walls.

  At least, that’s what he thought she was doing. It was hard to be certain with his eyes glued to the short shorts she’d changed into. They were a pair of old denim cutoffs that made her legs look six feet long and displayed just the slightest hint of ass-cheek as she reached with the paint roller. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her gray tank top was yanked up and tied into a Hooters-like knot. Her abdomen and back were virtually bare, and he found himself licking his lips as he watched a bead of sweat travel down her spine.

  “Did you need something?” she asked.

  Grant ripped his gaze away from the wayward bead of perspiration and looked up at her face. It was a beautiful, smug face, with lips twisted into a grin of satisfaction. Just as he’d strutted around when he knew she was watching, she’d worn this outfit on purpose. And he wanted to say thank you.

  Properly. With his tongue.

  He approached her, looking around at the work she’d done so far. “No. I’ve finished the first coat of poly on the floors. I have to let them dry a couple of hours before we do another coat. I came out to see if you needed any help.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, as though she didn’t believe a word he said. “Well, I’m almost done with the second coat in here. Remind me why I chose red? It’s going to need a third coat, if not a fourth. One-coat coverage, my ass.”

  “What do you say I conjure up some lunch while you finish and it will be all ready when you get done?”

  “That sounds fair. Are you cooking or running out? Wait, that’s probably a silly question.”

  At that, Grant laughed. “Well, I wasn’t planning on cooking, but your lack of faith in me is inspiring. I think I’ll go look in the kitchen and see what I can find. Anything off-limits?”

  “Nope.” Pepper dipped her roller in paint again. “Knock yourself out.”

  Grant hated to leave the stunning view of Pepper’s ass behind him, but she’d challenged him to cook lunch and he was going to succeed.

  “In the pantry, there’s—” Pepper started, gesturing with her roller, but the movement threw off her balance. “Ahh!” she cried as she clutched at the stepladder, but it rocked violently beneath her.

  Grant lunged out and reached for her. The ladder, the paint tray, and the roller fell to the floor with a crash, but Pepper landed safely in Grant’s arms. The sudden, awkward movement kept her from falling, but the force required to stop her sent Pepper colliding into his chest. They stumbled, then fell backward into the kitchen, with Grant landing on the linoleum floor, Pepper on top of him.

  Pepper planted her hands on the floor to push herself up and looked down at him with wide eyes. “That was close. Thank you.”

  Grant nodded, but he didn’t let go. Right now, every inch of the body he’d just been admiring was pressed into his own. Each movement was delicious agony. “My pleasure,” he said, and he meant it.

  His words invoked an awareness in Pepper’s e
yes as well. She shifted her hips just slightly against the firm length of his desire, and Grant had to bite his lip to keep from groaning aloud.

  A ragged breath passed through her parted lips as she watched his reaction. She lifted a hand to his face and brushed her thumb across his cheek. “I got some paint on your cheek,” she said. “For a moment, I thought you were bleeding.”

  Grant smiled. “I wouldn’t be the first southern boy to bleed crimson. Most Alabama fans do.” In fact, he’d seen more than a few T-shirts to that effect. Personally, he was one of the few people he knew without a preference. Grant just enjoyed watching a good game, no matter who won.

  But at the moment, football was the furthest thought from his mind. Right now, Pepper’s dark eyes were watching him with a heat strong enough to make his blood start to boil in his veins. Whatever reservations she had about the two of them wasn’t relevant at the moment.

  Grant slid his hands down her bare sides to cup the swell of her hips. Her skin was like silk against his rough hands.

  “I’m not hungry anymore,” she said.

  “Neither am I. Not for food, at least.” He swallowed hard and used his hands to press Pepper’s hips into him. She closed her eyes and moved with him, grinding the seam of her cutoffs against him. “Pepper,” he groaned.

  His words were silenced with her mouth. Her lips met his with a ferocity unmatched. This was no easy kiss. No hesitant kiss. It was as though the last few months had never happened and they were right back in his apartment.

  She was set on devouring him, and he would gladly be destroyed. Her hands grasped each side of his face, holding him still. His fingertips pressed into the juicy curves of her ass as Pepper’s tongue slipped into his mouth.

  She tasted like spicy cinnamon gum, leaving a fresh flavor behind that made his tongue burn when he touched her. That was appropriate. Every other part of him burned when he touched her. The cold tile of the floor at his back did little to soothe the fire racing through his veins. The more he touched her, the more desperate he was to keep touching her. But this wasn’t enough. He wanted her bare skin pressed against his own.