Alex led her to the bed, and then released her hand to strip out of his clothes. Momentary panic flittered through her as she realized she’d have to at least change. Thinking quickly, she opened the walk-in closet door and shut herself inside. She stripped out of her fitted T-shirt and jeans shorts and slid into an old, ragged shirt with a frayed hem and a pair of cotton sleep shorts.
Not very sexy but a necessity. If he asked, she’d remind him they were here for sleeping—at his insistence.
She exited the closet to find him stretched out in her bed. For a moment, the sight of his strong, powerful chest peeking out from the sheets rendered her motionless. With the moonlight pouring through the window, his skin held a slight ethereal quality that had her wanting to pinch herself to ensure the vision wasn’t a dream. He dominated the full-size bed. Her bed.
The sudden reality that she was about to spend the entire night in Alex McCray’s arms crashed into her, overpowering and overwhelming. Never once had she believed this could happen. But he was here now, he was real, and all the years of pain and misery were finally behind her. Hot tears welled in her eyes.
“Reagan, if you keep looking at me like that, sleeping will be taken off the table.” He rolled onto his side and patted the empty pillow. “We’ll have to renegotiate.”
Caught in the act of staring, she jerked to attention and scrambled to the opposite side of the bed. She slid beneath the covers and snuggled up to him with her head on his shoulder. Indulging in the freedom to at last touch all she wanted, she smoothed a hand down the centerline of his chest, across his abdomen, then laid it over his heart.
He covered her hand with his as his lips danced through her hair. “Sweet dreams, Reagan.”
“Only of you.” Closing her eyes, she tucked her leg between his.
Chapter Twelve
Sunlight streamed in through Reagan’s open window, urging Alex to get up and join the day. He woke to the sweet smell of coconut and Reagan’s long hair draped over his pillow. Smoothing one hand down her rib cage and over the flare of her hip, he fought the stirrings of desire all over again. Sound asleep, she was even more beautiful than awake. Softer. Somehow more vulnerable, which evoked a fierce protectiveness inside him. She deserved so much better than was her current lot.
Leaning toward her, he pressed a kiss to her soft cheek. His cock stirred as she shifted position and her bottom brushed against his groin. But her lack of response only reminded him how exhausted she’d been the night before, and he choked down lust. Later, he’d indulge. When she was already awake.
He took care to not disturb her, slipped out of the comfortable bed, and dragged on his clothes. If he was going to stick around a bit longer, he’d need to go to an actual clothing store—these were clean enough for today, but he’d only picked up the bare minimum. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her to do his damned laundry.
Alex took another long look at her, memorizing the way the pillows engulfed her delicate body, and then headed to the door. As he reached for the knob, an unsettling feeling descended on his shoulders. She’d said something last night. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, exactly, now, but the niggling awareness something wasn’t right tugged at his mind.
“Ghosts,” he muttered as he stepped into the hall and quietly pulled her door shut behind him. He was letting ghosts interfere with a perfectly beautiful morning. Not going to happen.
His gaze strayed to the master bedroom. Unease pulled at his gut. Go away, Drew. Today is mine. And maybe tomorrow. And the next day. And the next—until Reagan came to her senses and realized he’d never be the hero her husband had been.
Grinding his teeth as the feeling of inadequacy rose again, he determined not to let it get the best of him. He had a roof to finish and a porch to get started on.
Damn, the house was already filling with heat. Today would be a scorcher. But Saturday drew closer, and he wanted the exterior fixed by then so he could relax completely.
He’d really asked her to attend the picnic. He probably ought to alert his sister. Though she’d have a dozen questions he didn’t want to answer. Still…an idea came to mind. He could do something nice for Reagan, something that might help her out a little. She needed support he couldn’t give. Particularly given what he knew of Drew’s death and how his family had seemingly abandoned her.
He stopped in the kitchen, pulled out his phone, and dialed.
His sister answered on the second ring. “Hey, little man.”
Alex chuckled at the age-old nickname. “Hey, Red. So, about this supposed family picnic Saturday.”
“Supposed? There’s nothing supposed about it.”
“Right.” He smirked. “You know it’s a birthday party. I know it’s a birthday party. Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised.” He wouldn’t rat out his adorable niece for spilling the secret.
Diane grumbled on the other end.
Before she could offer an objection, he asked, “Did you invite Shelley and her folks?” The sorrow in Reagan’s eyes when she relayed she hadn’t had much time with the sister who had been like her own surfaced in his memory.
“Uh…”
He glanced out the back window, picturing the last time Shelley, her husband Aaron, Drew, and Alex had barbecued around the grill. Reagan and Shelley had been as close as thieves. Shelley could help where Alex couldn’t, he felt certain. It would do her good to have time with her. “I’ll take that as a no?”
“Well, I don’t have a number for her, and I didn’t want to go through Drew’s parents—you know Mom doesn’t like his mother at all. It would be rude to not invite them.”
“I’ve got her number. Call her, would you? I think Reagan would benefit from seeing her.”
“Reagan? You’re bringing her?” Surprise colored Diane’s question.
“Might as well.” He did his best to downplay the situation. “She’s by herself now, you know.”
“Uh, yeah, I know. And I know how you used to talk about her.”
Damn, he hadn’t expected that. Had it been so obvious? Had Drew seen anything? He frowned. Did it matter, really, now that Drew was gone? Reagan had put it aptly—they hadn’t died with him. “Look, I care about her, obviously. And we have strong bonds between us. She’s buried in a lot of shit, and good friends would bring a bit of unexpected cheer. So use all that energy you were storing up to surprise me and direct it her way.”
His sister, with her ever-burning need to help others, grabbed on to the suggestion and giggled like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, that’s so thoughtful. We could make it like a homecoming party, only for Reagan. A big show of support.”
Yeah. The more she talked, the more he liked the idea. Do something nice for Reagan. Something to bring her out of her sorrow. If it helped her confront the reality—well, she needed to grieve. And he’d be right there for her. “Sounds good, Diane. Thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll get right on it. Give me her number.”
Alex rattled off Shelley’s number, and after a bit more discussion on what Reagan’s favorite snacks were, he terminated the call. Now, to tackle the other issue looming over her shoulders—her house.
He found a magnet notepad hanging on her fridge and scrawled a quick note that he was heading to the lumberyard again. After leaving the note prominently affixed to her countertop, he slid on his shoes and let himself out of the house.
A quick glance at the rickety front porch promised it wouldn’t be a simple repair job. The floor was sound enough, but the overhang had taken so much damage it had fully collapsed on the far end. Overhead beams splintered at various angles, breaking at their individual weak points. One had crashed into the door—presumably the one that compromised the door’s hinges—and had been propped in the corner where the porch recessed at the entrance to the house.
He picked his way through the growing rubble and moved closer to the destroyed corner, eyeing the exterior wall of the house where the crooked shutter dangled. Yes, indeed, she had duct
tape over the glass—the whole upper right-hand corner was nothing but. Evidently covering a sizable hole or crack. Miracle the whole thing didn’t shatter. Then again, he’d seen storms do some crazy things. Amazing how Mother Nature could be deadly yet as gentle as a lamb all in the same instant.
Dread rolled around in his belly as his gaze skipped to the eave and the corner of the roof where he’d been working. The siding buckled like a giant had stepped on the top. Exactly where the tree had fallen.
Alex sighed. Don had been right—her house had taken structural damage. He might fix the damn leaky roof, but it was going to take an expert to put her house back together correctly. No sense in going to the lumberyard. The whole porch would have to come off.
Where the hell is her insurance company?
He’d ask later. She’d implied she didn’t have the deductible. But that didn’t answer the questions about Drew’s life insurance policy and his death benefits. And Alex was pretty damn certain someone could help her out after the appropriate loops had been navigated.
In the meantime…
He glanced around again, taking in the poor home that had once been picture-perfect. She was living like a freaking pauper, and it bothered him down deep in his soul. He couldn’t excuse it. Couldn’t justify it. And he damn sure wasn’t going to allow it to continue. They’d work out financials when her insurance company came through. And if not…well, it wasn’t like he had anyone else depending on him or his money. He certainly wasn’t going to use it. Not the substantial amount he’d accumulated as a bachelor with very few personal needs the marines hadn’t provided.
Footsteps inside drew his focus back to the window. He caught Reagan’s shadow as she approached the front door. She stepped out, then stopped, startled.
“I thought you were at the lumberyard.”
Alex grinned at her disheveled hair and the raggedy T-shirt she wore. He hadn’t noticed the fraying hem or the hole at the collar last night. On her, worn as it was, it looked cute. The mini sleeping shorts she’d donned before crawling into bed brushed the tops of her thighs—damn, how the hell had he missed that this morning? It was a waiting playground for his fingers. Not to mention an irresistible tease.
“Change of plans,” he said, clearing away the direction of his thoughts with a short cough. “This porch has to come off before it can be fixed.” No sense breaking the bad news that she was in for one hell of a repair to her home. He didn’t want to spoil the day with the first words out of his mouth.
“Oh.” Her surprise faded, and she gave him a narrowed gaze as she leaned against the doorframe. “So you’re going to cut it off?”
“Yep. Chance offered to help. I’m going to take him up on it.”
“You two didn’t mention it to me.”
Her voice held an edge he couldn’t interpret. He cocked his head, confusion tugging at him. “It’s rather obvious it needs extensive repairs.”
“Well, yes, but it’s my broken porch. I should be involved.”
Chuckling, Alex crossed to her and kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s demolition, baby doll. There’s no real decision-making involved. You were there last night when he offered to help. When we put it back together, you can input all you want. Promise. Now…” He reached into his back pocket, withdrew his wallet, then pulled out his credit card. “You have an AC guy?”
“Yes, why? It can’t be fixed. It has to be replaced.” The edge in her tone had lessened but still lingered.
Determined to eradicate it completely, he nodded, his smile broadening. He’d never really helped someone before, and the idea of helping her made his heart light. He passed her the card. “Go see them in person. Get someone here today to replace the compressor.”
When she hesitated, her gaze locked on his credit card, he bounced his hand, urging her to take it. Drew’s voice echoed in his memory. Had to take away the credit card before she broke us completely.
Alex shoved the memory aside, along with her hesitancy. He murmured, “I have plans for you tonight, and they don’t involve involuntary sweat.”
…
Reagan blinked hard. Alex was offering his card. In all of her marriage, Drew had never set her free with any of their credit cards. Not even to fill her car up with gas. Hell, he rarely gave her cash. If she wanted something, it either came out of her salary or he had to purchase it—and not without a great deal of resistance.
As Alex pushed the card a little closer, she hesitantly took it out of his fingers. A whole new sense of elation rushed through her, and she gave him an equally uncertain smile. “Are you absolutely sure?”
He shrugged. “I’ve saved well. It’s just a little money. And if I’m sticking around a while, I don’t want to be miserable indoors. It’s already heating up, and it’s only ten.”
She nodded again, stunned by both his generosity and the unhesitating way he granted her access to his money. He trusted her. She wouldn’t let him think she’d take advantage of him—she’d bring him the receipt. Then he’d know he hadn’t made a bad decision. Nor would he doubt her or wait around for the statement to come.
“Pick up some wine while you’re out?”
“Wine?” she echoed, once again, caught off guard.
Giving her a sexy grin that made his eyes dance, he nodded and gestured at his card. “Get your favorite, whatever it is. I told you I have plans for you tonight.”
A shiver stole over her, the promise in his words unmistakable. His resistance had faded, and she didn’t quite know what to make of the man who stood before her, insisting she spend his money, no longer arguing about Drew or what they shouldn’t be doing. Her heart skipped three beats before it kick-started hard. He was accepting them.
His “plans” suddenly had her weak in the knees. She cleared her throat as warmth flooded her body, and she reached for the door. “I need to get dressed, then I’ll go.” As an afterthought, she offered him his card back. “Want to hang onto it till I’m ready?”
Alex brushed her question off with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “No need. I’m going up.” He nodded at the roof. “Got a few more shingles to put in place, then I’ll see if Chance is up and about.”
Dumbfounded, Reagan made her way indoors. So this was what it felt like to have a man’s trust—who would have known it could be so…fulfilling. But damn, would that make telling him the truth more difficult? Would he feel like she’d betrayed him?
Of course he will. You’re deliberately keeping something important from him.
Frowning, she trudged up the stairs. Yes, she was keeping secrets. But not for her benefit. Question was, would he realize she was trying to protect him?
Likely not. Which meant she didn’t dare get caught up in the fantasy of Alex. Because she couldn’t keep him. And she damn sure wasn’t going to be the person who shattered his illusions. He’d seen enough horrors of mankind; he deserved some innocence.
But if she wasn’t careful, the truth would slip out somehow. She’d saved the conversation last night, but who knew when he might casually mention something and she flubbed it up by not thinking through before she spoke.
The only other option was to convince Alex to leave. And she would if it meant saving him from the monster Drew had become. She’d tell him their budding relationship was meaningless, that it had come to its natural end, and she’d break her own heart to save his.
Thankfully, that time hadn’t come yet. She could still enjoy him for a little while. And right now, she had a compressor to replace—a loan she’d repay as soon as her next paycheck came. The next month would be tough on her budget with the added expense. She’d have to mind every penny and live on bare essentials. But she refused to leave Alex room to think she’d taken advantage of him.
Feeling a little more in control of the speeding train she’d somehow climbed aboard, Reagan quickly changed, ran a brush through her hair, then tugged on a ball cap. Compressor, wine, and a night of Alex. The best gifts a woman could have.
Chapter Thirteen
“Need a hand?”
One arm wrapped around the porch’s cracked corner post, Alex looked down from where he stood on the ladder. He lowered the pry bar in his opposite hand to his side and chuckled at Chance. “It’s about time you joined the land of the living. Desi said you were still asleep an hour ago.”
Chance shrugged and picked up a broken two-by-four Alex had removed earlier. “What good is a hot tub if you never use it?”
“Uh-huh. Just like what good is a twelve-pack if you never drink it?”
A wide grin split his face. “Exactly.” He gestured at the crushed roofline level with Alex’s head. “What’s the plan?”
“Tear it off.” He frowned as he surveyed the sunken-in overhang. “Without blocking the front door.” A task he had yet to figure out how to accomplish. Particularly with only his two hands. The support beams ran the full length of the porch roof. Cutting one in half would only compromise the standing part of the roof, directly over where Reagan entered her house. Once he removed the last of the support with the beam he currently balanced against, the stability would be dicey, at best.
Chance dragged a branch out of the rubble. It shifted beneath Alex precariously. “I spent a summer on a rough-in crew,” he said as he casually tossed the log aside. “Firewood.” He reached again, grabbing a large hunk of what had been the porch roof. “Anyway. If we can get to the cross beam, we can cut it off there. Leave the main support on the outside edge. That should hold her.”
“What are you doing?” Alex gestured at the debris he tossed to the side.
“Looking for something to use as a brace.”
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