Rogue Gentleman (The Rourkes, Book 8)

Home > Other > Rogue Gentleman (The Rourkes, Book 8) > Page 3
Rogue Gentleman (The Rourkes, Book 8) Page 3

by Kylie Gilmore


  “I know.” I toss the sandwich in the garbage and grab the old ham and cheese and toss those too. I turn to him. “I was trying to get us on the right footing. I want us to get along.”

  He arches a brow and takes a drink from the glass of water I poured him. “Great water.”

  I laugh a little. “Sorry I delayed your work. I could help you.”

  “No!” He crosses his fingers like he’s warding me off. “You stay in your corner and I’ll stay in mine.”

  “That sounds like we’re boxers in the ring. I don’t want to fight.”

  “You stay in your corner, and we won’t.”

  I step closer. “But it’ll be tense. I prefer a relaxed environment.”

  He steps back, pivots, and goes to the cabinet, pulling out a protein bar and ripping the plastic wrapper off. He takes a bite and speaks around it. “This is breakfast.”

  My stomach growls. I’m not going to beg him for breakfast. I’ll go to the market and get some essentials later. Yesterday I had leftovers from Winnie.

  “And coffee,” he says, getting the coffee maker going.

  I watch him work on his simple breakfast, tension apparent in every movement. “Are you always this tense?”

  He doesn’t bother to turn around. “You’d be tense too if you had a tight deadline on a job you really cared about doing right, all while working a day job.”

  “I’m good at massage,” I say, lifting my hands and flexing them. “My friends say I have healing hands. I was thinking of picking that up as a side gig while I wait for my big break.” And I suck at waitressing.

  He slants a glance at me over his shoulder. “No, thanks.” He presses a button on the coffee maker, turns and leans against the counter, grabbing the protein bar and finishing it in a few bites. “Don’t cook. Just use the microwave or get takeout. I’m taking the kitchen down to the studs soon anyway, so you might as well get used to making do.” He shoves a hand through his hair, rumpling it. “You’re not gonna be able to sleep down here while I’m working on this level. There’ll be too much dust. I don’t know what to do with you.” He exhales sharply and gives me a hard look. “You’ll have to sleep on the floor in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I’m not exactly set here for guests. Couldn’t ya just deal with the crappy love situation at Winnie’s place?”

  I press my lips together, trying to decide how much to reveal about my dislike of Colin. Then I just decide to lay it out there. “Please don’t share this with Winnie, but I don’t like Colin. He’s very rigid, not tense like you are right now. I mean, like, he has a permanent stick up his ass.”

  He snorts.

  “And his dark eyes are cold and calculating, like a shark. I mentioned it once to Winnie, but she said he’s just really smart, so that’s what that look is about. So, you know, whatever, I don’t have to marry the guy, but I don’t want to live in close quarters with him. He gives me the creeps.”

  “You’d rather live in close quarters with me, a total stranger?”

  “I’d rather live with a protective gentleman with piercing blue eyes. Those eyes are direct and straightforward.”

  His jaw drops before he snaps it shut. He smirks just a tiny bit as he studies me with his piercing blue eyes, probably glad I find him preferable to Colin, since my cousin obviously didn’t. Then he rubs the back of his neck and blows out a breath. He’s resigned to his roomie fate, but still tense.

  I can’t help but think I had a teensy bit to do with that tension, surprising him as his new roommate, even though Winnie said he was already grumpy about the renovation. She didn’t give him advance notice about me because she was tired of dealing with his snarling. I assured her I’d win him over, and I will.

  “Let’s start over. Hi! I’m Josie.” I offer my hand just as sirens roar down the street.

  He looks to the ceiling. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

  He shakes his head and heads out the front door to meet the fire trucks.

  While he’s busy outside talking to the firefighters, I notice the coffee is ready. I find a mug and grab the handle of the glass pot to pour him a cup, when the pot handle slips from my fingers. Shit! It bounces off the counter and drops to the hard ceramic-tiled floor, where it shatters, coffee splashing everywhere. I jump back and quickly run my arm under cold water where the hot coffee splashed. This is why my waitressing tips suck. I don’t know what it is about me and kitchens, but we don’t get along. That’s what happens when you never have a true home. I can only do the basics in the kitchen and not all that well. I only attempted breakfast because I thought he was heading out to his day job soon, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to do something nice for him.

  I hear Sean and the firefighters step inside, and look over my shoulder. “Careful! There’s broken glass and coffee on the floor. Small accident. I’ll get it cleaned up in a minute.”

  Sean frowns and strides toward me. I brace myself for more of his grumbling, or maybe he’ll yell at me, telling me to leave and never come back.

  Instead he leans close, staring at the red splotches on my forearm under the running water of the faucet. “You burned yourself.”

  “It’s nothing. First degree, and I got it cooled right away.”

  He meets my eyes up close and, for the first time, his eyes are less piercing and more concerned. His voice is gruffly tender. “Ya really wanna help, don’t ya?”

  My pulse skitters. “Yeah. I was trying to. I guess I should’ve found another way, outside the kitchen.” I turn off the water, and he hands me a paper towel.

  The firefighters are inspecting the area around us, but all of my focus is on him as he lifts my arm in a light hold, checking it at different angles.

  “It’s okay,” I say softly. “I’ll clean up.”

  He frowns. “You’re barefoot.”

  “I’m wearing sandals.” I gasp as he lifts me by the waist and sets me on top of the island.

  “I’ll do it. Don’t move.”

  I watch him clean up at my feet, occasionally rising to address the firefighters, who are now checking every room in the place. I caused this disaster he’s fixing. And he didn’t come in here like a boxer coming out of his corner to knock me out either. He did it kinda tenderly. With care.

  I can see why Winnie dated him now. He’s got some tenderness hiding underneath the gruffness. I smile to myself. This roomie situation can totally work.

  He’s complex, and I like that as an actor. I’m going to consider this an acting intensive and study him for the character of uber-skilled construction worker with a heart of gold. Maybe I’m embellishing a bit with the heart of gold, but I have good instincts for people, and my instincts tell me he’s a good guy.

  Now I just have to make myself indispensable.

  Chapter Three

  Sean

  I see the firefighters out and stand on the sidewalk for a minute, watching as they return to their trucks. I’m an hour delayed with work on the upstairs bathroom, and it’s all Josie’s fault. I thought she’d be a distraction just by being her too-beautiful cheery self, but it’s much worse than that. She’s a walking disaster. The more she tries to “help,” the more work I’ll have to do. I need her to leave.

  I go back inside and find her in the kitchen with her back to me.

  “Josie.”

  She whirls and quickly chews and swallows, looking guilty. “Sorry. I took one of your protein bars. I’ll get you more.”

  My irritation fades. She was hungry. Who knows when her last meal was? She’s a poor out-of-work actress. Yet she still tried to cook me breakfast before getting herself something.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I’m used to sharing my food. I grew up with five brothers who eat like it’s an Olympic sport.”

  “Thanks. I was too hungry to wait.” She takes another bite, blissing out on protein bar like she’s starving and it’s a real treat. It’s bland at best. She quickly finishes the protein bar and says, “Let me be useful to you.”
/>
  “What’s your schedule look like?” I’m hoping she’s got something going on. I need stretches of work time to focus, where I don’t have to worry about what she’s messing up.

  “I do yoga first thing in the morning, gym workout in the late afternoon for a pick-me-up, and I have improv class Thursday night in the city at seven. Other than that, it’s wait for my agent to check in with an audition I might be right for.” She lifts her arms. “I’m all yours for however long you need me.”

  My gaze drops to her exposed stomach with outlined muscle along her abs. Workouts are paying off. I jerk my head up.

  She drops her arms and smiles brightly. “I’m sure working on a renovation will be even more of a workout than the gym.”

  I don’t have the heart to kick out a starving out-of-work actress. Not that I easily could, since I don’t own the place. I stifle a sigh. It’s only for a couple of weeks, right? Then she’ll go out to LA. And I’m only here for a week full-time before I go back to my day job. Then I’ll be too busy to even notice her. I can put up with her for a week. I’ll just give her something to do separate from me. Only what can she do that won’t mess up anything?

  “Ever use tools?” I ask.

  “No. But I’m a quick study. I’ll watch you, and I’m sure I’ll pick it right up. I’ll be like your apprentice.”

  I frown. No way I can have her watching me work all day in the close quarters of the third-floor bathroom. Finally, I think of something. “You can wipe down the tile in the fourth-floor bathroom. There’s a layer of dust and smudged grout. You need to wipe down the tile in the shower and then the floor tile. Think you can do that?”

  She grins. “Sure can, boss man.”

  I find myself smiling and turn away. I don’t want to be too friendly. “I’ll get you a sponge and a scrub brush.” I head upstairs, where I stashed my tools and supplies in an empty bedroom.

  She follows on my heels. “How far along is the bathroom I’m working on?”

  “Just waiting on the countertops to be cut at the tile shop. They have the sinks to custom cut the counters to fit. Should be in by next Friday; then I’ll hook it up with the faucets.”

  “Cool. And I assume the toilet and shower work.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t been using them since I don’t want to risk getting the vanity wet before the counter is installed.”

  “Then why am I wiping everything down? Won’t that get the vanity wet too?”

  “Not if you’re careful. It’s just a damp sponge.” I halt on the third-floor landing and turn back to her. Maybe this was a bad idea. Her kitchen history makes her seem clumsy.

  She holds up a finger. “I can see you’re having second thoughts, but I swear I’m only a disaster in the kitchen. You didn’t have a problem when I was in the powder room, right?”

  I consider this. Besides the fact that she was in the powder room when she shouldn’t have been here at all, she did leave it in one piece.

  She gestures for me to back up, and joins me on the landing. “Would I risk getting off on the wrong foot again? No, I would not. We’re a team from here on out. I’m going to carefully wipe everything down without getting the vanity wet, and you’re going to love the results. You’ll say, Josie, you should be the sparkle shiner on all my jobs. We’ll always get top dollar!”

  I’m smiling again. “Sparkle shiner?”

  She grins. “For sure.”

  I shake my head and head for the bedroom with cleaning supplies, grabbing the sponge, scrubber, and bucket. I hand them to her. “Use the tub spout to fill the bucket with a small amount of water for rinsing the sponge and scrubber. If ya have any problem, stop whatever you’re doing and come get me. I’ll be tiling the shower in the bathroom on this floor.” I point down the hall. “It’s in the corner there, right under the bathroom you’ll be in.”

  She brightens. “That’s convenient. We’ll be able to hear each other working, so it’s like we’re keeping each other company.”

  I keep my expression neutral. “That’s generally how bathrooms work since that’s where the plumbing runs. Not to keep each other company.”

  Her face falls. “Right.”

  A stab of guilt hits. I hurt her feelings. She so wants to be my friendly roomie. I shake it off. I really need to focus. She’s a distraction mostly because I haven’t been with a woman in so long. If it were one of my brothers working upstairs, I wouldn’t give them a second thought. I’ll work on getting with a woman—a different woman—once I finally finish this renovation. I restrain myself from making amends with her and head to the bathroom to get to work.

  A short while later, I hear her coming down the stairs. Please tell me she didn’t screw something up already. I poke my head out. “Everything okay?”

  She smiles, her blue eyes sparkling. Her hair is back up in a messy knot, her neck exposed, a soft curve to her shoulder. I force my gaze back to her eyes. “No problem, boss man. Just want to get something. Don’t let me distract you.”

  “Too late,” I mutter under my breath after she leaves. I smooth compound on the drywall. I’m three rows in on a staggered brick pattern for the white tile in the shower and working my way up. I turn on my work music, hoping to tune out whatever she’s doing and focus. I’ve got a small speaker set up in here.

  Fortunately, the music does the trick, and I get into a steady flow, tiling and occasionally pausing to head to the bedroom, where I left my tile saw, and cutting a tile to fit at the edge of a row. I’m making great progress and liking the results. And then I hear the water turn on above me, and it sounds like a full-on shower. No. I’m not going up there. She’s probably rinsing down the shower walls. No need to panic.

  I turn off the music and listen. She’s singing a show tune. She sounds really good, actually.

  I go back to work. Several minutes later, the shower is still running. Shouldn’t the walls be rinsed by now? I purposely don’t use that shower so I don’t risk getting water on the nearby exposed wood vanity, which is still missing the countertop. She’d better have the glass shower door completely closed.

  I blow out a breath. Better check.

  There’s no door on either bathroom because I needed the extra doorway space to fit stuff in, which means when I arrive in the doorway of the fourth-floor bathroom, I have a clear view of Josie naked in the shower, singing as she flings water at the tile with her fingers in what looks like a jazzy dance routine.

  She’s graceful, lithe, her sweet curves slick with water. Pink nipples on full breasts, smooth toned stomach, flare of hips, curve of her ass, shapely legs. I take it all in, my gut tightening, the blood rushing through my veins. I need to leave, but I can’t seem to move. Fuck. It’s been way too long for me.

  She turns slightly, and I back up quickly.

  I’m stealthy as a cat making my way back downstairs. She can do whatever weird naked cleaning dance she wants to, and I’m not going to say boo about it. The glass door was completely closed at least. I’ll fix whatever mess she makes getting out of there afterward, when I’m sure she’s dressed. This is basic survival.

  She keeps singing.

  I go back to work, but I’m overheated and can’t focus. Sweet slick curves are imprinted on my brain. Dammit.

  I head downstairs and go out to the backyard for some fresh air, following the path along the garden. This space always calms me. Okay, it’s not that bad. Yes, I saw her naked, but she doesn’t know I saw her naked. This doesn’t have to be weird. Then I remember she saw me naked in the outdoor shower, and I definitely did know it. Great! We’re even. Naked happened, and now it’s over.

  My phone vibrates in my jeans pocket and I check it. Winnie. I texted her earlier to call me. I punch the button and she speaks right away in a rush of words.

  “Hi, I guess you met Josie by now. I hope you’re not being grumpy to her.”

  So she didn’t forget to tell me about her cousin. She chose not to for some reason, just like I was beginning to suspect. “Y
a could’ve given me a heads-up.”

  “You would’ve raised a fuss, and I’m tired of your complaining. It’s my place, and Josie needed a place to crash. I told her you were a gentleman and she could feel safe there.”

  I clench my jaw. She acts like I’m a monk. Like Josie never had to consider I might put the moves on her. And here I suspected Winnie sent Josie here to distract me so I’d fail at my deadline and she could replace me with another contractor. Obviously, they both thought this would just be a neutral roommate situation. Any red-blooded man would want Josie!

  Winnie goes on. “She had a scare with an aggressive man in LA, and I knew you just being you would reassure her.”

  My brows draw down. What? Then I remember Josie asked me if I’d ever been a security guard. “What happened?”

  “He got aggressive after she said no, and she ran and called nine-one-one. She managed to stay safe, but it scared her. I offered to let her stay with me, but she didn’t want to intrude on me and Colin. We only have a one-bedroom. Our grandmother’s place has plenty of room.”

  I shove a hand through my hair. Josie was chased by an aggressor who wouldn’t take no for an answer? And here I’ve been growling at her nonstop. Not that she seemed intimidated by that. She has zero street smarts. All that open eagerness, her expression showing every thought and emotion, her sexy naked body. Don’t think about it. Never happened.

  I scowl. “She’s a distraction. She’s definitely gonna slow me down, and I’ve got no place to put her once I start on the kitchen. She can’t live in a demo zone.”

  “You’re living in a demo zone just fine. You’re just using her as an excuse not to finish the job. We need it on the market June first. Colin wants to buy us a co-op on the Upper East Side, and there’s an opening in a very prestigious building. We’re going for an interview with the co-op board tonight.”

  Her snippy tone sets me on edge, and I bite back a curse. Looks like Mr. Moneybags strikes again. I can’t let my irritation with Winnie put me on the outs with her. I want to keep this job and finish it to my standards. This project has been mine for more than a year. It’s a personal challenge, a rare historic gem that I will restore, all me. And it won’t hurt to have it in the Rourke Management portfolio either. My family business is branching out from construction to real estate development, and this place is a prime example of the value of renovating.

 

‹ Prev