Weekends in Carolina

by Jennifer Lohmann

Of course, when he’d met that woman, he wouldn’t have been willing to wait until December. But they were both different people than who they’d been the day they met, and her fierceness was more interesting now that he knew she fought for it. “Have you checked your email?”

  “No.”

  “Check your email. Then call me back.”

  While he was waiting, Trey got up from his desk and got himself a glass of water. Then got out some crackers and the tub of pimento cheese. He couldn’t face the work he had to do. Not while his head was still in Durham.

  Finally, his phone rang again. “What do you think?” he said by way of an answer.

  “Um, you can’t use Kickstarter funds to buy real estate.”

  “You’re still thinking in terms of can’t. Think in terms of can.” The coup d’état in her emotions wasn’t complete yet. “What projects can you use the Kickstarter funds for?”

  There was a short moment of silence on the other end of the line. “I can,” she said the words slowly as the possibilities were coming to her, “use the Kickstarter money to renovate the old tobacco barn.”

  Trey wished he could see her face as the potential hit her. The white of her skin under her freckles would brighten and her eyes would take on a deep green color as the power she carried with her internally took over. “And if I have money left over, I need a new tractor and refrigerator building. I could do this.”

  The wheels in her head rolled over the phone line and through the cell signal, mowing down all the obstacles in her way. Max had been waiting to grasp on to her future, and something had given her the go-ahead.

  And he wanted to be a part of it. More than suggesting Kickstarter and watching from the sidelines, more than helping her find a mortgage. Trey wanted to be an integral part of her strength. He’d been drawn into government and then lobbying because he liked the fight. Arguing to hear yourself yell was okay. Debating to win was better. Fighting for the slightest change that gave someone an opportunity or incentive to better themselves was the tops.

  It had been a long time since he’d been a part of one person grabbing on to a better future.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “I’ve never done much with Kickstarter other than donate to some of the businesses in Durham. Maybe we can brainstorm ideas. I can set up a Google docs folder for us. If we do this, I don’t want to not have the project fully funded. I don’t want to get my hopes up with each penny only to watch it all get returned.”

  Trey considered her practical suggestion. She could do the research that needed to be done in North Carolina. He could supplement from D.C. But then he wouldn’t have such a hand in the project. Or the excuse to count her freckles.

  “I’ll do you one better. I’ll come down next weekend. We’ll draft a strategy for this money-raising business.” Trey smiled to himself. “I’m good at convincing people to do things.”

  * * *

  MAX HAD JUST gotten out the dust rag when Kelly and Sean stepped into the kitchen. Sean looked happy and as relaxed as she’d ever seen him around another person. Kelly was looking at Sean like he was the sun, the soil and the rain. Max shoved the rag behind her back, then decided that move was too obvious and reached for the dust spray.

  “Who ya’ dusting for?” Kelly may be stupid in love, but he wasn’t blind.

  She could either lie outright, or admit to herself that she was cleaning the farmhouse because Trey was coming to visit. She was about to say, “Miss Lois,” when Sean said, “It looks to me like she’s cleaning for a lover.”

  Kelly’s gaze shot from Sean to Max and then back to Sean. “So not only does Trey have the hots for you, but you have the hots for him, too.”

  “We’re going to discuss a Kickstarter campaign.”

  “Is that what the heterosexuals are calling it these days?” Sean asked with a raised brow. Max wished he’d go back to being silent and borderline sullen.

  “Your brother will never move farther south of D.C. than Alexandria, Virginia. Any relationship we have is casual and won’t go anywhere.” Though she was wondering if she should clean the floors and vacuum under the couch. She had imagined them having sex on the couch as soon as Trey walked through the door. Making it to the bedroom would give her too much time to think.

  Kelly slipped his hand into Sean’s and started swinging them. She was pretty sure he didn’t even realize he was doing it, though Sean seemed self-conscious about it. Cleaning up for Trey’s visit now felt hollow. She’d agreed with him that this relationship couldn’t go anywhere—but she always wanted hand-holding.

  “You know—” Kelly’s voice brought Max’s thoughts back to the present “—Trey grew up in this house and my mom was too busy to clean. Hell, Dad only cleaned when stuff started to stink and Aunt Lois made Trey clean that bathroom. He ain’t gonna notice a little dust.”

  “But I live in this house now.” And it would be her house by the end of the year. And she intended to take pride in every clean crevice. “Something neither of you Harris boys seem to ever notice.”

  Kelly shrugged. “Should I start knocking?”

  “No.” Riling up an infatuated man was impossible. “Ashes will bark and I’ll have to come let you in.”

  “Then what are you so upset over?”

  “Nothing, I guess.” Or nothing she would admit to Kelly. In truth, she was terrified that Trey was coming down to work on their Kickstarter and nothing else.

  * * *

  MAX PACED THE front porch of the farmhouse, watching the main road for Trey’s car. The confidence she’d felt yesterday had dissolved, but she’d made a decision. Waffling now would spell disaster. She reached back to pull her hair into a ponytail and was rewarded by the hairband breaking and snapping the inside of her wrist. After she shoved the broken band into her left pocket, she reached into her right pocket for another. And broke that one, too. Between her anxiety and her curls, she’d break every hairband in her house if she wasn’t careful.

  She dug the first broken hairband out of her pocket and turned toward the door. At the first stomp of her feet, she took a deep breath, then another, more controlled step. When she stepped out of the bathroom, five new hairbands in her pocket, Trey was standing in her kitchen, drinking a glass of water.

  “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I know. You were muttering to yourself about something.”

  She’d been cursing her hair, Hank, Trey, her nerves and herself—but mostly her hair. Looking at Trey, confident and helpful in his suit and tie, cursing him seemed spiteful. After she got her hair into a ponytail without breaking the hairband, even cursing her hair seemed silly.

  His gaze was hungry and intent as he put down his glass, but he didn’t take a step toward her. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at her was enough to make her belly tingle, and it wasn’t until one side of his mouth kicked up in a smile that she realized her hands were still up about her head. She lowered them, feeling desired, desirous and silly all at the same time.

  “You don’t have to lower your hands on my account,” he said as he stalked over to her. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel him just the same, the sensation of his closeness overwhelming her silliness and leaving nothing but longing in its place.

  The dangerous wanting pushed her back until she hit the wall. Trey looked relaxed. Comfortable. And also feral. He caught her wrists, one in each hand and lifted her hands over her head, forcing her breasts out against her shirt.

  “There,” he said with satisfaction. He gathered her wrists in one hand, sliding the other down her arm until he had hold of her waist. His gaze was intent on her breasts, like he could see through her shirt. “The view is better up close.”

  It didn’t matter that his dark brows and thick lashes hid his eyes from view, their heat flushed her skin first a pale pink and then
a dark red as the burn sank from her breasts to the juncture of her thighs. When he raised his face to look at her, the warmth spread through the rest of her body.

  Bubbling along with her desire was the thought that between her freckles, carroty hair and now flushed skin she must look a fiery mess.

  She leaned forward to kiss him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SHE’S AS HOT as she looks, Trey thought when her lips touched his. He gripped Max’s waist and wrists tighter, unwilling to let her go for fear that she’d start thinking and he’d end up fine again.

  But she didn’t pull back. She pushed her breasts forward, her arms straining against his hold of her wrists. His thumb was caught between the firm muscles of her belly and the leather of his belt. The uncompromising strength of a person—a woman—who made her money through physical labor was pressed against him and he wanted, desperately, to be a part of her.

  She cocked her head and slid her tongue inside his mouth, running it along the edges of his teeth. There was no hesitation in her now. This was the woman who’d stalked across his land, a rifle in her hand, demanding a justification from him for why he was there. This was the steel he’d sensed inside her. The silly freckles and soft, wild hair hid the hard core, but when she let her guard down, let him really look into her eyes, he saw determination, not fear.

  And she was letting him hold her hands above her head. She was backed up against the kitchen wall, and instead of fighting him, she was inviting him in.

  Trey slid his hand back up the side of her body and along the underside of her arms until he again had two hands on her wrists. As his fingertips had tickled her underarms, her shivers had echoed through his bones. He was hard, straining against the fly of his pants.

  He pulled away from her, just enough so that he could speak. “I didn’t come down here for this.”

  “What did you come down here for, then?” She smiled and closed the gap between them again, daring him to argue with her.

  To help you strategize, his mind said, lying to both of them. He could strategize with her over the phone and by email. He’d come here to be with her. “Okay. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered...” The words stopped when she licked her lips.

  She twisted her wrists and he released her hands. Despite her attempt at a ponytail, her hair had exploded about her face and her eyes matched its fire. Her hands landed on his shoulders, her grip strong. She took a step forward, pushing him along in front of her until his backside hit the kitchen table. He turned and half sat, while being half pushed into a chair by Max. Only when she’d trapped him as thoroughly as he’d trapped her did she pull her hands from his shoulders. Her eyes were wide and fearless as she sat astride him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

  “Let me help...”

  She swatted his hands away before he could finish his sentence. “You have better uses for your hands.”

  He obeyed, pulling her T-shirt out from between them where it had gotten caught and running his hands along her soft skin. He imagined he could feel her freckles under his fingertips, guiding him along the contours of her body as her thighs tensed around his. Her eyes were half-closed and her mouth was open, her tongue resting between her teeth. She looked wanting. Instead of thinking about his erection pressed against the seam of his pants, he focused on the sensations of her skin against his hands, determined to let her have all the control.

  She’d reached the end of his shirt buttons and had to scoot back before she had access to his fly. A pop of his button and a rasp of his zipper and his erection was released. He closed his eyes and sighed. His pleasure was short-lived. Max’s weight shifted, then her warmth was gone from his lap. When he opened his eyes, her backside was walking away from him.

  “Um,” he said, not certain what had gone wrong last time and not wanting to repeat that experience. He was sitting in his family’s farmhouse kitchen, his pants undone and his erection pushing the fly of his boxers open. Despite feeling vulnerable, he didn’t want to move in case Max came back.

  When she came through the doorway, she held up a little square of foil and smiled wickedly at him. But she didn’t walk immediately over to the chair. Instead, she put the condom between her teeth, reached for her jeans and wiggled out of them. For all that he was able to move, he might as well have been tied to the chair. Her pants pooled at her feet, followed by her panties. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her T-shirt brushing the top of her dark red thatch of hair, with nothing but white skin and freckles below it.

  He was afraid to move—afraid this might be a dream. She was a hot, dirty fantasy and she was walking toward him.

  Her intense, catlike eyes locked on his and he couldn’t lower his gaze to appreciate the glory of her naked legs even if he wanted to. Even though she was the one moving toward him, he felt like he was the one being reeled in like a fish.

  The muscles in his thighs tightened in anticipation when she stood in front of him, her pussy just below eye level and the smell of her overpowering him. He gripped the side of the chair, levering his hips up as she pulled his pants and boxers out from under him. His clothes fell around his feet, as effective as shackles keeping him there. If she ran, he couldn’t catch her, though he’d probably trip and smash onto his face trying.

  She brought the condom back up to her teeth. The sound of the foil tearing trembled around his head and through his blood, the anticipation of what was to come making him harder. When she finally rolled the condom down over him, the way her skin brushed lightly against his seized the air from his lungs. She straddled him. The tendons at the juncture of her hips shifted and the muscles in her thighs pulsed. If he could let go of the chair, he’d lift her shirt up over her head and lick her freckles. But he couldn’t lift his hands.

  She lowered herself onto him with a groan, her arms balanced on his shoulders and her hands grasping onto the back of the chair behind him. Her muscles tightened around him. Oxygen wrenched from his throat in a loud gasp that released the pressure keeping his hands adhered to the chair. He shoved his hands under her shirt and rested them on her waist, her skin slipping and sliding against his palms as she rode him.

  In response to his scooting forward in the chair and changing the angle of their connection, she leaned back into his fingers with a heavy moan. Her breasts jutted up against her T-shirt. He was no longer able to resist her nipples, which were hard and visible through the thin cotton of her shirt and whatever bra she wore. With a slight push of his fingers, she was forward enough that he could take the peak of one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked in, hard, and her entire body bucked against his. His balls tightened. Any blood that had been left in the rest of his body rushed to his dick. He clenched his teeth against his coming orgasm. When he came, it was going to be so hard he wasn’t sure he’d be able to move from this chair to put his pants on even if the ghost of his father walked through the door.

  Her legs tensed and gripped his. Her breaths started emerging in short bursts. She lifted up a little off the chair, stiff, with her head falling back and her mouth open in pleasure. With her close to release, he tightened his butt muscles to push himself up higher and pulled down on her with his hands, plunging himself deeper into her and making her suck in her breath. She shivered. First a gentle shiver and then a shudder passed through her until she went boneless. Her head fell forward, but she caught herself before hitting her forehead on the back of his chair.

  He held his breath for several seconds, concentrating on the movement of her nipples under her shirt. Finally, her head shifted in his peripheral vision and her tongue brushed against his neck. He pulled her shirt over her head, then leaned back in his chair to feast his eyes on the way her mottled skin flushed under his attention. Then he pressed his face between her breasts so he could smell the sweat on her skin and came in rolling, hard waves.

  When he could finally tak
e a breath, he said, “I’ll admit I came down here with something more than strategy in mind, but I don’t think I could have imagined that.”

  She chuckled. The vibrations rumbled through her, providing enough sensation that he stiffened inside her again. “Kickstarter was a good idea.”

  “Up.” He put his hands under her arms and lifted her off him. “I’ve got to dispose of this or it ceases to be useful. We can do that again tonight and I can hold you afterward. Also, my legs are starting to fall asleep.”

  The movement of her lifting off him released a spicy, earthy smell into the air. The scent of sex, strong and soft at the same time, much how he imagined Max to be.

  * * *

  EMPTINESS RUSHED INTO her as she pulled herself off Trey. It wasn’t just the loss of his fullness inside her, but physical energy had been drained out of her.

  What did I just do? As she walked naked across the kitchen to her pants, she was conscious of the open curtains. The lights were on in the kitchen. Dark was falling outside. Any one of her interns could have come by to say goodbye and seen them.

  “Don’t think so much,” said a voice from behind her. “This doesn’t have to change our original agreement if we don’t let it.” She whipped around to face Trey, who was standing next to her, his pants on and zipped, though his shirt was still unbuttoned. How long had she been standing there holding her clothes?

  And she had been worried about being caught having sex! Being caught in the act was far preferable to being caught afterward, clothes clutched in her hands and bewilderment on her face. Max turned back around and shoved her pants on, leaving her panties for later. The soft cloth of the T-shirt hit her shoulder. Trey let out a soft harrumph when she yanked it from his hand.

  This time when she turned around to face Trey, she opened her mouth to let loose the reassurances while preparing her mind to stop the self-doubt from gaining a foothold in her mind. But no reassurances came out of her mouth. Nor did the self-berating creep into her mind. When they crawled into bed tonight, she was going to crawl all over him.