by Beth Andrews
He paced the short length of the room. “Nothing.”
“Fine,” she said, standing. “I’ll just get out of—”
He was already storming into the kitchenette. Sadie rolled her eyes. She shut down the computer and grabbed her purse while James muttered to himself, opening and slamming cupboard doors.
“Where is it?” he demanded.
Putting her sweater on, she barely glanced at him. “Where’s what?”
“My mug.” He stormed over, glared at her desk where the blue mug she’d sent him from Texas a few years ago sat, complete with the remains of her afternoon tea and a lipstick smudge. “Goddamn it,” he said, grabbing it and shaking it at her, “this is my mug.”
“I realize that, seeing as how I gave it to you.”
“Mine,” he repeated, getting closer, stalking her until she backed up a step. Then another. “Don’t you ever use it again.”
“You,” she said pointedly, “have lost your ever-loving mind.”
He whirled around, threw the mug across the room. Tea arced out, splashed onto the floor, splattered the metal filing cabinet. The cup hit the wall, the ceramic exploding into dozens of pieces that rained to the floor.
Eyes wide enough to pop right out of her head, Sadie could only stare at James.
“You were right,” he said, his body vibrating. “Damn it, you were completely right. I saw it, too late, but I did see it. I tried to stop it...”
“Jamie, what has gotten into you?”
“Charlotte. She kissed me. Told me we were meant to be together.”
Oh, poor Charlotte. And poor James. Even more upsetting was the jealousy gnawing at Sadie’s gut, the urge she had to go to her little sister and tell her, in no uncertain terms, to keep away from James.
He plopped down on the chair near the filing cabinet, laid his head in his hands. “Why me? I’m ten years older. She’s surrounded by doctors and firefighters and police officers...why the hell did she have to pick me?”
Sadie kneeled next to him, the cold concrete seeping through the thin material of her skirt. “Oh, James,” she said softly, laying her hand on his thigh. “How could she not? You’re honest, hardworking and so damned good.”
He was perfect. The perfect man for someone like Charlotte, someone who wanted nothing more than to stay in her small hometown, who wanted to make a family there, live the rest of her life with the same hills for a view, surrounded by the same people she’d known since she was born.
“I messed up,” he admitted on a soft exhale, his eyes bleak. “I thought I could handle it, could handle her. That it would be better to ignore it, but I walked right into it, like an idiot. She had a picnic set up, a romantic picnic, with champagne and candles. I could’ve stopped it, tonight, days ago, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But I did. I hurt her. I embarrassed her.”
And both of those would weigh heavily on James, with his kind heart. Be the cause of his anger. His frustration. “I’m sorry, James. But you can’t be too hard on yourself. She’s young. She’ll get over it.”
“I kept telling myself that as I walked out. I know you’re right. It’s just...” He shook his head. “I let it go on too long. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to jump to conclusions or hurt her feelings, but part of it was that I didn’t want to face it. She’s Charlotte, your little sister, the girl we used to babysit, for Christ’s sake.”
“She’s a grown woman. One with her own mind, her own feelings, who makes her own choices. She chose to try something, to go after something with no guarantees of how it would end. I think that’s incredibly brave.”
He nodded. “I’m not deluding myself that I’m her great love and she’ll never get over me, but I feel guilty for not putting a stop to it earlier.”
“Like you said, you didn’t want to hurt her.”
“Is that why you kissed me back?” he asked, his gaze intense. “That night at my house. Is that why you made love to me, because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?”
“The two situations are totally different,” she said.
“Are they?”
“Yes. For one thing, you and I were friends. You and Charlotte were more...friends by proxy. For another, her feelings for you were remnants of a childhood crush. She took it too far, that’s all.”
“Maybe that’s what I did,” he said, as if to himself. “That night. Maybe I took old feelings too far. Made them too important.”
She was too stunned to speak, too scared to move. What was this fear building inside of her? Why did it feel as if he was trying to make what had happened between them meaningless? Why couldn’t she let him? She should. It would be better for them both if she did.
Easier for them both to move on.
This might even be the way for her to salvage her friendship with him, a way to guarantee he’d always be in her life. Always be there for her.
But he was looking for the truth from her now. He needed her.
He. Needed. Her.
For the first time, he was turning to her. This was her chance to give back when before, she’d always taken.
He started to stand, but she shifted so that she kneeled in front of him, pressed her hands on his legs to keep him seated. “No. I wasn’t pretending. Not that night. Not when I came to your house last weekend and kissed you. I wish I was.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already done so much to screw this up. I don’t want to hurt you, Jamie. It’s the last thing I’d ever want to do. But when you kissed me on your birthday...it wasn’t one-sided.” She admitted what she’d kept from even herself. She slid her hands up his thighs, felt his muscles tighten under her fingers. “This isn’t one-sided,” she whispered, leaning forward.
Their gazes held, the air charged around them until all she could hear was their harsh breathing, all she could feel was the erratic thumping of her own heart, the warmth of James under her hands.
They came together at the same time, their mouths voracious, the kiss heated and hungry and desperate. He yanked her onto his lap, shoved her skirt up to her hips. His jeans were rough against her bare inner thighs, his hands hard and seeking as they roamed over her body. She latched onto his shoulders, felt the hard ridge of his arousal at her center. Rolled her hips.
He moaned, his fingers tightening on her waist.
Feminine power rushed through her, made her light-headed that she could make this strong man, this good man, the best she’d ever known, moan and tremble. He didn’t touch her like he had when they’d made love before. Gone was the careful, reverent lover. In his place was a man starving for her. Desperate. Needy.
He shoved her shirt up, did the same with her bra, freeing her breasts. His mouth on her was hot and wet as he sucked on her nipple, his tongue swirling, driving her mad, his beard scraping her skin, heightening her pleasure.
His passion, his need for her, inflamed her own and she squirmed, trying to get closer, trying to ease the ache in her core. Lifting his head, he slipped his hand between them, rubbed his thumb over her. She gasped.
“That’s it,” he murmured in his familiar voice. “I’m going to watch you come, Sadie. Come for me.”
She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, couldn’t ignore his commanding tone, the heat and pressure building inside of her until she thought she’d go mad if he didn’t stop. That she’d go mad if he did. He shifted slightly, tugged her underwear aside and slid his finger inside of her. She bucked against his hand, her orgasm spiraling through her.
He was watching her so she left herself open to him, let him see what he did to her. Let him see in her eyes what she truly felt for him.
Let him see what she was afraid to admit, even to herself.
* * *
JAMES HAD NEVER seen anything as beautiful as Sadie, her face
flushed from her orgasm, her gaze holding his, pleasure darkening the blue of her eyes. He slid his hand from her, felt her heat on his fingers, smelled her sex, the scent making him even harder.
He wouldn’t push her, wanted this to be her choice. He wanted...he needed...this to be her idea. What she truly wanted.
She leaned forward, her bare breasts brushing his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the dog whine, didn’t even bother glancing over to see what had happened to Elvis. How could he think of anything when Sadie was kissing him, her soft hands cupping his face?
Her tongue flicked over his lips and he opened his mouth for her; when her hands went to his jeans, he lifted his hips so she could unbutton them, slide the zipper down. She straightened and took off her panties while he shoved his pants and underwear to his knees. He grabbed a condom from his pocket and sheathed himself.
Holding his gaze, she settled on him, her eyes shutting on a soft groan as she took him into her body. His heart stopped. She took his breath. She’d stolen his heart years ago and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no matter what happened between them, he’d never get it back.
He’d never love anyone the way he loved her.
But he had to keep his words, his feelings, to himself so he didn’t scare her off again. So he didn’t push too hard, too fast and send her running.
Her back bowed and she kept her hands on his shoulders as she moved, taking him higher and higher. He gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her skin, his breathing growing ragged. Sweat coated their skin, her bare breasts swayed with her movements, the delicate skin pink from his beard.
She was so tight and hot and wet, and he slid into her deeper. Harder. Faster. She moaned, one long pull that seemed to wrap around him, pushed him into sliding to the edge of the chair and quickening the pace. She braced her feet on the back of the chair, taking him in to the hilt.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. He stood, lifting her easily. Her eyes widened, her grip on his shoulder tightened.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered roughly, walking the two steps to the desk.
As she did as he commanded, he swept a hand over the desk, clearing enough room to set her ass down on the edge. He stood, pumping into her, her ankles digging into his lower back, her weight resting on her elbows, her head thrown back.
She tightened around him, her body growing even hotter. She shuddered as she came, her body milking his until he went over the edge and emptied himself, giving her everything he had, everything he was.
As always, loving her more than was wise.
* * *
“I THINK WE’VE traumatized the dog,” he muttered later—it could have been five minutes or five hours. Who knew? He was boneless and weightless, his muscles relaxed.
Sadie glanced over at Elvis, who was lying in the corner, facing away from them. She laughed. “Poor baby. Guess his previous owners did these things behind closed doors.”
James forced himself to straighten, then, because he wanted to hold on to her, quickly dropped his hands after helping her to her feet. “I’m pretty sure it’s the first time it’s been done behind this particular door.”
“I doubt that. I’ve seen your parents. They still act like newlyweds. Remember that one time we walked in on them making out in the kitchen? Your dad had his hand on your mom’s—”
“I’ve spent all these years trying to forget,” James muttered, pulling his pants up as she readjusted her clothes.
“I’m just saying they’ve probably already broken this room in. So to speak.”
He went cold all over, stared horrified at the desk, the chair. “I may never have sex again.”
“Now that would be a real shame,” she said with a small, shy smile.
She was adorably mussed, her hair a tangled, golden mass around her face, her cheeks flushed, her shirt wrinkled. His heart ached with longing. He wanted to ask her to come home with him, to spend the night in his bed. He wanted to make love to her again. And again.
Most of all, he wanted to make her his. Forever.
Keeping his words inside, his feelings to himself, he turned his back on her then crouched and scooped up a pile of papers from the floor, chagrined to realize his hands were unsteady. He felt her watching him, her gaze boring a hole into the back of his head, trying to dig into his thoughts. Trying to figure out where they stood now.
He wished he knew.
Holding his breath, he kept focused on his task, exhaling only when he heard her footsteps retreat into the kitchen. He shut his eyes, hung his head. By the time she returned, a roll of paper towels in her hand, he was in control again. In control of his body and, more importantly, of his emotions.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, setting the papers on the desk.
“That’s okay.” She wiped the tea from the filing cabinet then tossed the soggy towels into the trash before ripping several more from the roll and using them to sweep up the chunks of broken mug. Elvis, finally over the trauma, crossed over to sniff at the floor by Sadie’s feet. “I’m sorry I used your cup.”
James’s face warmed. He scratched his chin. “That may have been a little overkill.”
“You think?” She straightened. “I’ve never seen you that angry. I didn’t think you could get that angry.”
“Right. Because I’m usually such a Boy Scout.”
“Nothing wrong with being a Scout.”
“Maybe not, but being a good guy hasn’t exactly gotten me anywhere. I thought I’d try something different.”
“Is that why you threatened to quit Montesano Construction if you didn’t get the partnership? To prove you’re not a pushover? You shot yourself in the foot if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” he said coolly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
He went into the shop, the lights he’d turned on when he’d first arrived glowing brightly. Damn it, he wasn’t about to discuss his personal life, his problems with her. They weren’t friends anymore. Even after what had just happened—maybe because of what had just happened—that much was clear.
He put on his tool belt. He’d come here to work on the frame of the kitchen cabinets for Bradford House. Though Eddie usually did the finish work, James, Maddie and Frank all pitched in when they were behind schedule.
Or, like tonight, when one of them needed work to keep busy, to keep their thoughts occupied.
Sadie came out, her purse over her shoulder, her hand on Elvis’s head as they walked side by side. “Look, I know you don’t want my opinion—”
He grunted.
“But I’m going to give it to you anyway. You love Montesano Construction.”
“Thanks for the insight.”
“You love it,” she repeated. “Until your father hired me, you were happy with your place in the company. Do you really want to leave? If Frank doesn’t agree to bring you in as a partner, will you be able to walk away from the company you’ve spent half your life with?”
He shrugged, though it felt as if he was lifting one hundred pounds on his shoulders. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“I hadn’t realized how completely stubborn you could be,” she said, not sounding impressed by that fact.
“Maybe we didn’t know each other as well as we thought.”
“I know you’ve always been a part of Montesano Construction, no matter who is listed as the owner. But you convinced yourself you were being somehow slighted. Now you’ve worked yourself into a corner—and you’re stuck there because you issued that stupid ultimatum. If you don’t do something to fix this—and soon—if you walk away from the company, you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”
“You were right the first time. I don’t want your opinion.”
She looked hurt. Worse
, she looked disappointed. In him.
It cut him to the bone.
He turned on the table saw, the loud whine of it making it impossible to hear any response she might give. Hell. He didn’t need her harping at him. He already wondered if he’d made the right choice—or if he’d let his anger and frustration over Frank hiring Sadie push him into making a rash decision.
One his pride wouldn’t let him take back.
* * *
“YOU’RE ALL PROBABLY wondering why I asked you to be here,” Frank said Saturday evening.
“Don’t tell me,” Maddie said, helping herself to another scoop of their mom’s pasta salad, “Colonel Mustard did it in the pantry with a wrench.”
When James’s mom had invited him for dinner that night, he’d almost refused, hadn’t wanted to spend that much time with his father, not when things with the business were still up in the air. But when Rose had mentioned that the rest of the family was coming—with the exception of Leo, who was working—James had relented.
It was better than staying at his place alone, reliving making love with Sadie. Hearing her voice in his head.
You’ve always been a part of Montesano Construction, no matter who is listed as the owner.
If you don’t do something to fix this—and soon—if you walk away from the company, you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.
Damn her for voicing his own silent fears, for making them impossible to ignore any longer.
Now he and his family had finished eating—he eyed Maddie putting away the pasta salad—almost all of them were done eating, he amended, and Bree and Max had gone downstairs to play video games.
Frank leaned back in the dining room chair, linked his hands on his still-flat stomach. “We need to clear the air about this partnership business. Montesano Construction can’t go on like this. Neither can this family.” He looked around the table. “I’m proud of you, all three of you, and you have no idea what it means to me to know you all want to work for the company, to be a part of it forever, to take it into the future and possibly hand it down to future generations.”