by BJ Harvey
I hold out the plate of nachos for her, and she spoons some onto her plate. From there, we fall into comfortable—safe—conversation topics. I tell her I’m originally from Colorado, how I love boats and want to own one in the future, and then about my brothers and sister.
She tells me about being an import from Michigan and how her parents are now retired and living in Florida. She likes reading and binge-watching TV shows and taking Axel for bike rides to local parks.
And, most importantly, they’re a Cubs family. That definitely earns brownie points, and in my mind, I imagine taking April, Betty, and Axel to Wrigley Field for a game.
Her laugh is infectious, her smile addictive, and I find myself working for her smart quips and sexy smirks. I’m falling for the idea of being with her, and I can’t wait to find out everything there is to know.
And, watching her for the millionth time tonight, I decide on a new goal: by the end of this date, I will taste her lips and feel her body close to mine.
Just a kiss—just having her close. What more could a man ask for?
12
April
Lacing his fingers with mine, Jamie brings our joined hands between us. He dips his chin, and the brush of his lips against mine sends a tremor of warmth through me, centering in my chest.
“What did I do to ever deserve you?” He rumbles the words, and they vibrate against my skin.
I smile and pull back enough to meet his hooded gaze. “I guess I just have lower standards than you.”
His eyes widen before he throws his head back and laughs, my attention riveted on the way his Adam’s apple moves, how his shoulders shake, and the huge grin curving his mouth when he looks back at me.
“Can’t argue with that,” he says.
My smirk grows. “Well, there’s a first.”
His lips twitch as he shakes his head. “I’m far from complaining. Punching above my weight means I get to be here with you.”
Inside, I’m swooning, but it’s far too soon to show my hand. Jamie has not put a single foot wrong since knocking on my door earlier tonight, and for a man who’s known for consistently riling me up for the sake of it, it’s a surprising development.
“Good to know. Would hate for you to get a complex,” I say. The longer we sit here staring at each other, the more the atmosphere changes between us, morphing from flirty to fierce and threatening to scorch us where we sit. When Jamie near kissed me on my doorstep last week, my aggravation toward the man transformed into something entirely unexpected. Something I hadn’t anticipated, and even sitting here on a first date with him, I’m still unsure as to what this is or what it has the potential to be.
Before I even have a chance to analyze anything, Jamie makes his move and in doing so, tells me without words exactly how he sees this going.
Crushing his chest to mine, he corners me against the plush red velvet seats of the booth we’re in. His hand comes between us to cup my jaw, tilting it up, so we’re eye to eye.
With our gazes locked, my heart beats faster and faster. There’s a loud buzz in my head, blocking out everything except the two of us. In all my dating life—before and after my marriage—I’ve never felt such a powerful magnetic pull toward a man. Not with my high school sweetheart. Not with my ex-husband who was the man I thought I’d grow old with.
My at-first-aggravating, constantly antagonizing, and now completely contradictory neighbor is the one to knock me off my feet—figuratively—and throw all of my preconceived assumptions about him out the window.
He’s taken me from not wanting or needing a man to dragging me headfirst into an all-consuming lust that has me wading in uncharted—yet not entirely unwanted—waters.
Something in my expression must change because his head stops mid-descent, his brows bunched together. “April, what just happened?”
I blink and stare at him. How can he read me so freaking well?
“Your face just went from soft and sexy to dazed and a little confused” He pulls back, resting his hands on my shoulders and giving me a little reassuring squeeze. “Whatever I did or said, please tell me.”
I don’t make him suffer because if this is to ever work, we have to communicate. I need to be able to tell him how I’m feeling. It’s something my therapist drummed into me for the two years I saw them after Patrick left. “Do you ever think this seems too…”
His gaze warms, and my belly flutters. What is this man doing to me? He finishes my sentence. “Too… good? Right? Completely crazy but undeniable?”
“Easy,” I whisper. His brows lift, before he relaxes, his eyes crinkling as his lips curve up.
“Easy is good,” he says, like we’re not having a rather unexpected—yet seemingly normal—come-to-Jesus moment.
“We bicker.”
“Uh-huh.” His smile widens. “And if I don’t fuck this up, after tonight, we’ll have new, thoroughly enjoyable ways to make up when we do fight. Or I annoy you. Or—”
“Maybe you should quit while you’re ahead,” I say dryly.
“Or maybe I like provoking—”
I close the distance between us and slam my mouth down on his, my fingers hooking around the back of his neck and holding him in place as I plunder his mouth. My tongue delves inside his parted lips like a heat-seeking missile.
I may have caught him by surprise, but a man like Jamie doesn’t let an opportunity slip by, and merely half a second later, his arm snakes around my waist, his hand tangles in my hair, and our kiss turns into a kiss the likes of which I’ve never experienced before and probably will never experience again. The world around us ceases to exist. Every cell of my body, every sense still under my control is only focused on the man setting out to turn me inside out in the middle of this Mexican restaurant.
Feeling light-headed, I ease back, my cheeks hot, my breathing hard, my gaze locked on the blazing eyes of the man who just shifted my world off its axis.
He leans forward and presses his lips to the sensitive skin of my neck before pulling back. “You kiss like a wet dream,” he rasps.
A startled laugh escapes me as my mouth drops open. “I what?”
“Oh yeah,” he says, leaning into his elbow against the side of the booth, still staying close in a way I like far too much this early in a relationship. His smile brightens. “First time I met you and tried to kiss you, I knew you had some spunk. Just now, you grabbed me and used your lips to shut me up.”
“I don’t have spunk.” I pull my shoulders back against the seat. He smirks, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I have sass,” I reply indignantly.
“You have that too. But lots of spunk.”
“Sass outranks spunk.”
“You forgot feisty,” he retorts, making me gasp.
I narrow my eyes at him, poking my finger into his chest. “You haven’t even seen the start of my feisty, mister.”
He leans in, his gaze lowering to the V of my dress before slowly raking back up to meet mine. I swear it’s like his hands are gliding up and down my body and stripping me bare. “And I can’t fucking wait.”
Suffice to say, the rest of our dinner goes well. Soon, Jamie calls for the check, then—of course—we argue over my insistence to go halves. Once I win that battle of wills, he stands from the table and moves to my side, not once taking his eyes off me.
“Let’s get out of here before I act on my impulse and get in trouble,” he growls.
My nipples tighten, and I squirm in my seat at the thought of Jamie losing control. The dirty girl in me wants to see what happens when he does. She wants to go anywhere other than here so he can act on any damn impulse he wants.
But the responsible adult woman in me knows it’s too much too soon.
“Maybe a walk along the shoreline might… do us good?” I suggest with a sly grin.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and his gaze narrows, his lips tipping up. “Yes. Fresh air. Let’s go with that.”
Instead of walking the three blocks to the lake,
Jamie leads me in the opposite direction. When we arrive back at his truck, and he opens the passenger door for me, I wonder if he’s changed his mind.
“I thought—”
I’m cut off by his hand hooking around the back of my neck and his lips slamming down on mine. I gasp into his mouth, and he takes advantage, his tongue delving inside. I can do nothing but melt against him as he presses me against the side of the truck, my hands grabbing hold of his arms and holding on for dear life while he pillages and plunders and I give as good as I get. I feel his hard body close to mine, and if we weren’t standing in a parking lot in the middle of downtown, I’d entertain the idea of doing more than just making out because all of the build-up and tension snapping between us throughout the night has had me wet and willing.
He tears his lips from mine as we both suck in a desperately needed breath before he drops his gaze to my heels. “As much as I’d love to walk the lakefront with you, those shoes…” he says, gliding lazy eyes back to mine. His knowing smirk has my fingers flexing against his skin as a shudder courses through me.
“Let’s take a rain check on the walk for another date,” he says with absolute certainty, telling me there will be another time. His confidence in this thing between us is just as sexy as the heat reflecting back at me in his eyes. “But for now, let’s go home.”
His attention drops to my lips again, and I can’t help but smile back at him. He glides his palms up my sides to cup my face in both hands, then dips down to brush his lips tenderly against mine. He slowly deepens the kiss, the gentleness so in contrast to before but affecting me just as much. This time when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine, our warm breath mingling together.
“I could get addicted to this…” He kisses me again, “…to this mouth.”
With one last press of his lips to mine, he straightens and steps back. “We better go before I act on what I really want to do to you.”
I push off the truck and lean my body against his. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
He drops his head back with a groan before shaking his head at me and holding out his hand, grabbing hold of mine, and helping me up into my seat.
He holds my hand the entire drive home, his thumb sliding back and forth over my knuckles, forcing me to cross my legs to help control the deep ache he’s building inside of me. If his upturned lips and side glances are anything to go by, he definitely knows what he’s doing and is enjoying the hell out of it.
When we arrive home, he pulls into my drive and gives me a warning look when I reach for the door handle.
“Let me do this.” He lifts my hand to brush a kiss against my knuckles before letting me go and jumping out of the truck. Within moments, he’s helping me down and walking me—again, hand in hand—to the front door.
Not wanting the night to end, I hesitate when we get there. He doesn’t keep me waiting for long, guiding me backward and sideways until I’m leaning against the house and he’s all I can see—all I want to see.
He leans in and rubs his nose against mine, inhaling as if to breathe me in. “You smell amazing.”
I smile, pressing my lips to the stubble covering his jaw, his earthy cologne filling my senses. A soft sigh escapes me and his chest rumbles before he turns and captures my mouth, his tongue caressing mine in a slow, mind-bending kiss that leaves me wishing we were on his porch, inside his house, or that my hand was in his as he led me to his bed.
“I had a really good night,” he says.
“Me too,” I reply breathlessly.
“I want to do it again.”
“Me too.” I’m unable to think straight when he’s this close, and I can feel every part of him against every part of me.
He lifts his head and looks down at me. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” His eyes are hooded and lazy. He looks so relaxed and happy, and I love that I’m the one who helped get him there. He straightens, and I grin.
“Don’t worry. With our track record, I’ll be argumentative and surly soon enough,” I say.
“I like you feisty. I like you smiling. I definitely fucking love that look you get when I kiss you, and you can’t stop touching me.”
“Is that right?” I reply, my lips twitching. “You do know you’re in trouble now that I know that.”
One last press of his mouth to mine and he steps back, putting much-needed space between us to stop me from jumping him right here on my front porch. He reaches out and traces my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, his gaze following it before lifting to meet mine.
“Sweet dreams, lovely,” he murmurs, and with a brush of his lips on my cheek, he shoots me a sexy smile and lets me go, moving toward the driveway.
Watching him—and his magnificent ass—walk away, I can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face or slow the fluttering butterflies in my stomach. I’m giddy, and when I’m lying in my bed fifteen minutes later, staring at the ceiling, my entire body is still buzzing.
Running through the events of the night, it hits me that never—not once—in my past has a man ever made me feel so wanted, so cherished, or so happy. And that’s after only one date. I can’t wait to see what else Jamie has up his sleeve, because if he’s starting how he intends to carry on, I foresee a lot of dates—and more—in our future.
And I can’t wait.
13
Jamie
Early Friday morning, I’m sitting with a coffee in hand at my favorite diner, a “ma and pa” kind of place where everyone in my family has been coming for years. It’s good for breakfast or late-night snacks to sober up. A full-service eatery.
I’m waiting on Jason and Ezra to turn up for our weekly project meeting, and I’m still on a high from last night. The moment Ez walks through the door and spots me, his eyes brighten with a gleam that warns me I’m about to get grilled.
Sliding onto the chair opposite me, he clasps his hands on top of the table and smirks at me like the cat that got the cream.
No, that would be me, except I got April instead.
I look out for the waitress, waving her over. “My friend here would like to order us breakfast.”
The waitress looks dumbfounded, and Ezra’s mouth drops open, but he soon recovers. He plasters a charming grin on his face and orders two omelets with bacon, one plate of waffles, and coffees for the three of us. Jase arrives just as the waitress is walking away, and he takes a seat next to me and places a notebook and pen on the table.
“Did you get me waffles?” he asks Ez.
“Yes, I did, because you’ve been such a good boy,” he replies sarcastically.
“No need to get snappy, my friend. Life is good.” Jason is perpetually happy, and that’s because he has a wife who is more than happy to serve all of his needs… multiple times. So, it’s safe to say that Jason is always relaxed.
“How’s it looking?” Jase asks, raising my suspicions. Considering he’s the site foreman and he’s just as up-to-date as I am on our progress, I’m sensing warning bells. The waitress returns with our coffees and disappears again.
I lean an elbow on the table and stare at Jase. “Is there something I should know about?”
“Building inspector caught something in the basement yesterday. I didn’t want to say anything until I could get our engineer to have a look,” he replies.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. We have a contingency fund for unexpected expenses but hearing the words “basement” and “engineer” in the same sentence does not fill me with happiness.
“And what’s the damage?” I ask, looking straight at him.
“It’s not disastrous, but it’s gonna hurt. Talked to Matt before I arrived just now, and the two of us can do it next week.”
“And the cost?” I hold my breath and hope he doesn’t make me wait long.
“Six to eight grand, tops. You can’t really scrimp and save on something like this, and because it was the inspector who found it, no construction is allowed until he clears the r
epairs.”
“He shut us down?” I grind out, my entire body tensing—both Jase and Ezra wince. Ezra opens his tablet case and brings up the house plans on screen.
“This is good,” he says, studying the screen.
Even Jase frowns at that. “How can this be good?”
Ez looks up to meet my narrowed gaze. “Because it got caught early. You wouldn’t want to have this issue crop up in a month’s time once we’ve got all the drywall up and started all the finishing touches.”
He’s right—of course—but it still doesn’t make it easy to hear.
“I guess that’s what contingency funds are for?” I don’t tell them it’s up to me to cover any shortfall, but Ezra knows me well enough to assume. I’ll take it out of my own pocket and reduce expenses elsewhere. I turn to Jase. “No work till Monday?”
“Jase and I will be on-site at seven thirty with our crew, and we’ll get an early start.”
“If it weren’t so early in the morning, I’d be suggesting we move this to a bar,” I reply dryly, half joking.
“Jamie, it’s gonna be alright. You know these things can happen, and our guys like getting paid, so we’ll just shuffle the work around to make it up. Matt agreed with me to not charge you for our time,” Jase explains.
I open my mouth to argue, but he spears me with a “don’t even start” glare.
“And you’ll just owe us a favor or two. We know you’re good for it, and we’ve had more than our fair share of roadblocks in the past. Let us do this and do it right,” Jase says.
“Okay. So, the engineer has given you the specs?” Ezra asks, all business.
Jase nods. “Yeah, he did. We’ll just need Jamie to sign off the cost of materials; then we’ll be ready to go Monday.”
“So, can I do anything this weekend?” I ask, dollar signs from lost time flashing in front of my eyes.
“Nothing classed as construction and nothing requiring power tools in the main dwelling. We can’t risk any further movement in the basement.”