Hammer & Nails
Page 4
She nods as she yawns. “Yeah, okay.”
“Are you going to be okay driving?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
We shut off the lights, grab our things, and start for the door. I’m walking behind Harley when she trips over something on the floor then pitches forward and cries out. I instinctively throw my arms around her to stop her from hitting the floor. I yank her back against my chest and hold her there.
“Shit, are you okay?” I ask in concern.
“Um, yeah…” she replies hesitantly.
It’s then that I realize one of my hands has landed on her breast and is pretty much groping it. I let her go as if burned. She stumbles forward a bit.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I exclaim, completely mortified.
She turns to look at me. Even in the dark, I can see her eyes glittering with amusement.
“Trying to cop a feel, Mr. Hammerstein?” She teases, wagging her eyebrows at me.
“Jesus, not on purpose.” I huff and rake a hand through my hair.
“Mmm hmm,” she hums and continues toward the front door.
“Seriously, Harley, that was not intentional,” I say, following her.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Hammerstein. I can’t blame you, really. It’s hard to resist all this,” she says dismissively and runs a hand seductively down her side.
I fight the smile and hard on that threatens to appear. I walk Harley to her truck. She opens the door and hops in. I stand in the opening, one hand resting on the frame, the other resting on the door’s armrest.
“You can stop calling me Mr. Hammerstein. Nolan is fine.”
“Aw, really? Hammerstein is so fun to say, though,” she whines.
I roll my eyes. “Nolan from now on, please.”
“Whoa, you said ‘please’!” she says, feigning shock.
“Harley.” I warn.
She sighs. “Okay, fine. Goodnight, Nolan,” she says with a playful smirk.
I bite back a moan at the way my name sounds coming from her mouth. Her eyes glint mischievously and I narrow mine at her. What is she thinking? Her hand moves in a flash. She cups me through my jeans and gives my semi-hard dick a light squeeze. I yelp in surprise and back my hips away.
“Hey!” I sputter in utter disbelief.
“’Hey’ nothin’. A grope for a grope, it’s only fair,” she replies innocently.
My mouth drops open. “You’re unbelievable,” I say when I can finally speak.
She grins and sends me a wink. “Gotta keep you on your toes. Night, Nolan.”
She tugs on her door, forcing me to back farther away so she can close it. I stand there as she starts up the truck and backs out of the driveway. I watch her drive away as I try to understand what the hell just happened. I shake my head as I start for my car. I don’t know what to think of her after tonight. I’ve seen a different side of her, but that doesn’t change who she is, which is an annoying pain in my ass. I get in my car and sit there, looking over at the dark house and shaking my head.
“This is all your fault, house. Damn you for having to be redone,” I mutter. I start up my car and drive to my father’s.
~ Harley ~
I fight not to laugh as I catch Nolan’s disgusted reaction to the furniture place I bring him to. We are standing on the sidewalk and he’s just staring at the sign above the door. I know he is going to hate this place, but I think it will be the best shot at finding the perfect desk for his office. And since he liked all of my decorating ideas at the initial consult, I’ve now become contractor and decorator extraordinaire. When I mentioned to Nolan earlier that I was going to go look for a desk for his office today, he insisted on coming with me.
“No, we are not looking for a desk in there,” he says firmly.
“Oh come on, I just want to look,” I reply.
He shakes his head. “Oliver’s Reclaimed Furniture. Key word, reclaimed. I will not use something that once belonged to someone else,” he says adamantly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a spoiled brat!” I huff and put my hands on my hips.
He sends me a dirty look. “I’m not a spoiled brat, but I don’t need to shop here when I have the money to buy something new!”
“But the look we’re going for with the desk is something distressed and old looking,” I counter.
“They make new furniture that looks distressed and old,” he states.
I shake my head. “It’s not the same.”
His stubbled jaw bulges as he grits his teeth. “Ten minutes. That’s it,” he grinds out.
“Okay!” I chirp.
We walk into the building and my eyes immediately take in everything that’s here. I see a couple of things that could possibly work. The problem is going to be getting Nolan to agree to it. I start toward one of the options. As I get closer, I change my mind. Not what I want. I let my eyes scan over everything, constantly searching. My eyes land on a piece of furniture peeking out from behind a hutch.
I sneak a peek at Nolan to find him looking at everything in distaste, like everything here has leprosy and he is somehow going to catch it. I roll my eyes and focus back on my task. I squeeze between two pieces and step behind the hutch. I gasp and run my fingers lovingly over the beautiful distressed oak table. It was probably once a kitchen table, but it could easily be used as a desk in Nolan’s large office space. It needs to be cleaned up, but it is absolutely perfect, and exactly what I was looking for.
Nolan appears on the other side of the table across from me. His eyes already telling me the answer is no.
“Nolan…”
“Nope.”
“But…”
“No.”
“Will you just…”
“Not going to happen.”
“Just listen…”
“Nein.”
“Did you really just tell me no in German?” I scoff.
“Yes, because I’m not buying this table.”
“I’ll buy the damn table.”
“No, you won’t. I don’t want it in my house.” He shakes his head.
“You stubborn mule, it’s perfect!” I shout at him.
Humor flashes for a brief second in his blue eyes before they turn back to hard and unrelenting. “No.”
“It’s exactly what I picture in there, though!”
“It’s my office, and I don’t want someone else’s discarded furniture in it.”
“UGH! You are such a tool!” I snap and storm toward the door.
Nolan follows me out. I stand on the sidewalk, arms crossed over my chest, firm pout on my face. I will get that table and it will be his desk. He doesn’t know who he’s messing with. I have a vision of what that office is supposed to look like, and that table needs to be in it.
“Let me show you what a real furniture store looks like,” he says and walks to his car.
I begrudgingly follow. I should have driven myself, dammit. I get into the passenger seat of his BMW and slam the door closed. He sends me a bored look and starts up the car. Stupid asshat.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” he demands.
Shit, did I say that out loud?
“Nothing,” I mutter and turn slightly to stare out the window.
We pull into the parking lot of an upscale furniture place about twenty minutes later. Nolan smiles at me, looking pleased. Why the hell does he have to be so handsome? It’s not fair for all the handsomeness to be wasted on a dickwad like him.
We walk into the furniture place and I immediately feel out of place. I’m wearing baggy beat up work jeans, a T-shirt that’s covered in dried up spackle and paint, and of course, my work boots. This place is so upscale that they have an espresso bar for shit’s sake! The people working here are dressed to the nines and the other customers look like Nolan, who is wearing slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie. Fuck me.
As we walk through the place, I take notice of the constant dirty
looks from one of the female salespersons. If she keeps it up, she’s gonna be sorry. Who the fuck does she think she is? Nolan walks over to the area of the store where all of the office furniture is. I wander off toward the bathroom set-ups. I’m very aware of the saleswoman following me, as if she’s waiting for me to steal something. Oh yeah, let me just stick a lamp down my pants and run out of the store. Bitch.
I stop next to a very large infinity tub. I covertly glance at the woman to see her watching me like a hawk. I’ll teach her. I climb into the tub and lounge back. Within seconds, she appears next to the tub, her expression flustered.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asks in her hoity toity tone.
“Trying out a tub. Do you mind? I’m trying to pretend I’m at home to see if I’ll like this tub or not,” I tell her and close my eyes with an exaggerated sigh as I settle back. I give her my thickest accent, knowing that will annoy her even more.
She makes a high-pitched noise and I crack an eyelid to see her struggling to find something to say. I roll my lips in so I don’t smile.
“You are not allowed to be in there! Get out right now!” she snaps.
I slowly open my eyes and give her a bored glance. “I’m actually pretty comfy, I think I’ll stay.”
“Your boots are dropping dirt into the tub. You need to get out right now!”
I can see that she’s on the verge of hysteria.
An irritated Nolan appears next to the woman. “Harley, what are you doing?”
“Chillaxing in a tub. What does it look like I’m doing?” I snort.
“Get out, Harley,” he says calmly.
“Nah, I’m good. Go finish your shopping, darling,” I coo with a flirtatious smile.
The saleswoman gives Nolan a nasty look. He flushes bright red. I can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or anger, though.
“Sir, you need to get her out of the tub before I’m forced to call the police,” she says tightly.
“Bitch, call the boys, you ain’t better than me!” I say, putting on my best diva and snapping my fingers.
“Oh Jesus,” Nolan breathes and face palms.
“Well, I never!” she exclaims angrily.
“Dammit, Harley. Let’s go, you’ve made your point.” Nolan sighs, looking completely mortified.
He holds out his hand to me. I raise an eyebrow at him. “Point? What point?” I ask innocently.
“Don’t make me carry you out of here,” he says through gritted teeth.
I send him a look that is pure challenge and defiance. “I dare you,” I hiss.
“That’s it, I’ll calling the police,” the saleswoman says and storms off.
Nolan glances at her before turning back to me. “You are really pissing me off. Get out of the tub before she calls the cops.”
“I want the table,” I state, daring him to say no.
“Are you fucking serious? That is why you’re doing this?” he spits vehemently.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard you use the F word, Nolan. Good for you.” I smile.
“Out! Now!” he barks.
“I want the table,” I sing.
He makes an aggravated noise and paces away. He turns back and grips my arm. “Fine, get the goddamn table! Now get out!” he snarls and yanks me up by my arm.
I step out of the tub and stumble as Nolan starts dragging me toward the door.
“We’re leaving, no need to call the police!” he yells to the salesbitch before hurtling me out the door.
~ Nolan ~
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout at Harley when we finally make it outside.
“Nothing, that lady was a complete bitch,” she replies with a nonchalant shrug.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter in disbelief.
I shake my head as I walk across the parking lot toward my car. I shove my hand through my hair, still unable to wrap my mind around what just happened. Not only did she almost have us arrested, but she got me to agree to buy that goddamn table. Just by acting like an immature little brat. I won’t deny that the woman was an absolute bitch, but seriously, that’s to be expected in a place like this.
“What I find unbelievable, is that you thought bringing me into a place like that would be acceptable. Did you even see the way those snobs looked at me? Like I was some kind of trash.” Harley grunts from behind me.
I round on her, making her stop in her tracks. “Well, acting like that didn’t help! It was childish and completely uncalled for. What are you, seven? God, grow the hell up,” I snap.
A multitude of emotions rush across her pretty face. “Maybe, instead, you should open your eyes and realize that not everyone is accepted in your fancy-schmancy world. That woman followed me around the store looking at me like I was about to steal something. So fuck her and fuck you too, Nolan! You set me up!” she shouts, poking me angrily in the chest with her finger.
“Set you up? What are you talking about?” I ask incredulously.
“You brought me in there knowing full well how those people would react. You set me up to be humiliated!” she barks, her green eyes flashing angrily.
I open my mouth to argue, but snap my mouth closed. She’s right. Damn, how did I not realize what I was doing, or the situation I was putting her in? Am I really that self-centered? “I…it wasn’t intentional. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry,” I say softly.
She blinks at me, some of the anger in her eyes dying down. “Thanks.”
Something catches my eye over Harley’s shoulder. I look up to see the woman from the store standing at the door watching us. Her disapproval clear on her face. Harley glances over her shoulder and sighs heavily before turning back around to face me.
“Can we just go?” she asks, an odd tone to her voice.
I frown. “Yeah, sure. But I have to do something first.”
Harley rolls her eyes. “And what’s that?”
I step into her, wrapping one arm around her tiny waist while cupping her face with the other. “This,” I whisper against her lips before kissing her.
Harley instantly melts against me, her hands fisting the front of my shirt. Her lips part and I take what she is offering. Our tongues meet and it sends a jolt of lust straight to my groin. I let the hand that is on her waist slide down to cup her ass. I pull her body flush against mine and moan at the contact. I haven’t wanted a woman this badly in…well ever.
Her hands snake up my chest and shoulders to tangle into my hair. The bite of her blunt nails on my scalp has me gasping into her mouth. I move the hand that is cupping her face down her body. I go slowly, taking in the feel of her. My thumb grazes over the side of her breast before gliding ever so slowly over her ribs and hip. I grab her ass with both hands and tug her more firmly against my achingly hard cock. She moans, her fingers tightening in my hair.
Someone on the street yells for us to get a room, which has us smiling against each other’s mouths. Harley slowly pulls back and looks up at me, her green eyes heavy lidded with desire.
“Why did you kiss me?” she asks.
“I didn’t want you to be the only one she looked at like that,” I say and motion with my head toward the woman who is looking downright scandalized now.
Harley glances over her shoulder at her again and bursts out laughing at the look on the lady’s face. She turns back to me with a grateful smile. “Thanks,” she murmurs and extracts herself from my arms. “But you can’t just keep kissing me whenever you feel like it. Especially when you don’t even like me. It’s weird.” She gives my chest a playful swat.
I follow her when she starts for the car. “I never said that I didn’t like you,” I mutter and make my way around to the driver’s side.
Harley gives me a “Get real” look over the hood. “Please, you didn’t actually have to say it.”
I unlock the car so we can get in.
“You’re just…so…” I start, looking for the right word.
Harley waits, h
er eyebrows raised, an expectant look on her face.
“…Hard to handle. I’ve never dealt with anyone like you before,” I try to explain.
She smirks, her eyes glittering with amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I snort as I start the car.
“I obviously find you attractive, though,” I tell her, making sure to catch her eye so that she knows I’m serious.
Is that a blush I see creeping up her cheeks?
“Well, I would hope that was at least one of your reasons for kissing me twice now,” she says with an uncomfortable giggle, like she’s trying to play off her discomfort at my previous words.
“So, should we go back and get the other table then?” I ask, changing the subject to save her from more discomfort.
She brightens up immediately. “Yes!”
I smirk. “Okay.”
~ Five ~
~ Harley ~
“How is the Hammerstein project coming along?” my dad, John Jameson, asks me.
“It’s slow going. The house keeps throwing me wrenches. I just found water damage in the floorboards of the upstairs bathroom. Now I have to pull up the subfloor, which wasn’t in the original plans.” I sigh.
We are sitting in the living room at my dad’s house, waiting on my brothers to show up for dinner.
“And you’re only a month in. Do you think it’s going to set back your timeline?”
“If I keep finding more problems, yeah, it’s going to set me back. But that’s the problem with old houses; there are all kinds of surprises behind the walls.”
“How has Mr. Hammerstein been?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow in question.
I told my dad about how bad we were butting heads in the beginning. And even though I still annoy the shit out of Nolan, it doesn’t seem like he hates me anymore.
“Nolan’s fine. He’s been helping out here and there,” I tell him.
“Nolan, huh? You’re on a first name basis with him now?” he says with an amused snort.
I shrug and fight the blush sliding up my cheeks.
“I’d like to meet him,” my dad muses, rubbing his chin.
I give him a dry look. “You just want to try and get him to give you tickets to the season opener.”