by Darcy Burke
“At the Archers’?” He frowned. “That’s a one-bedroom apartment. You’d be sleeping on the couch.”
“I was doing that when Gram was here. It’s better than being alone.”
“I have a spare room, you know, and it just so happens that I have a futon.”
She’d been about to take a bite of pizza but froze. Was he inviting her to stay with him?
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” Hadn’t she just thought about how fast-moving relationships were a catastrophe? “I do appreciate the offer, though.”
He set his pizza down and rested his arms on the table on either side of his plate. “Look, I’m not asking you to move in with me. Just stay with me until you feel comfortable. We’ll be roommates. You’ll have your own space. Granted, I only have one bathroom, but it’s doable. Plus, we both work so much, we’ll hardly ever see each other.”
That sounded disappointing. “You make a good argument. I don’t know…” She could think of a million reasons she shouldn’t, and they all had to do with her crippling fear.
“Come on. My place is small, but it’s a damn sight nicer than this joint.”
She didn’t doubt that. “But it would only be temporary.”
“Whatever you want.”
“I’ll think about it.” She did just that as they finished their dinner, and the conversation turned to the wine club dinner coming up that weekend.
She realized she never gave him an answer about that. “I’d love to go with you. If you still want me to.”
He cringed. “Gee, I asked someone else in the hours since I invited you. Sorry.”
Laughter erupted from her chest, and she was so glad he’d texted her about dinner. She thought about him leaving, about the darkness that would invade when she was alone and didn’t think she could face it. “You’re a jerk. Despite that, I’m going to come stay with you for a few days. On one condition.”
He finished his beer. “Anything.”
“No hanky-panky.”
He laughed so hard, he snorted. “What year is this, 1953? Hanky-panky?”
She giggled. “What would you call it?”
He leaned back and huffed out a breath while he crossed his arms and adopted a pensive pose. “I don’t know. Monkey business?”
She sputtered out a laugh. “Monkey business?” The laugh grew to a guffaw until near-hysteria set in as he joined her. She fought to take a breath and pushed out the word, “Chicanery?”
He howled even louder, slapping his hand on the table. “How about fooling around?”
Tears spilled from her eyes and her face began to hurt from laughing so hard. It was one of those conversations that probably wouldn’t have been funny to anyone else, but in that moment, they were consumed by uncontainable hilarity. “We are firmly planted in 1953. There are apparently no words—none—to describe sexy times in twenty-first century speak.”
“Sexy times works.” He poured himself more beer and took a long drink. “God, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. Okay, so no sexy times. Does that include kissing? Because I’m kind of hoping I get to do that with you again soon.”
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous? I could see kissing leading to—let me borrow a word from 1953 again—petting, and petting leading to the aforementioned sexy times. In fact, I would argue that kissing is sexy times.”
He pouted. “Damn, your argument is sound.”
“So no sexy times while I’m staying with you.”
“Wait, none at all? Or just none in the house?” He looked at her with such hope in his gaze, and he was so gorgeous with his stubble and that square jaw and those dark, hot-as-coals eyes.
“Let me think about that.” She stood up. “Do you mind cleaning up while I pack a few things?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks. Back in a few.” She went to her bedroom and immediately wondered what in the hell she was doing. She should just go to Gram’s.
Which was outside town, and she liked walking to both of her jobs. She’d be close enough at Luke’s that she could run back here to grab something if she needed it.
She began packing stuff in her big duffel bag and thought about what to take. How long would she be there? A few days? Maybe they’d hate living together. Maybe this would put an end to her apprehension about starting a relationship because she simply wouldn’t want to.
Somehow she didn’t see that happening.
A bit of the anxiety she’d been battling all day stole over her, and she sank down on the edge of her bed. She told herself to breathe. Once the restraining order was in place, she’d feel better. Aubrey said she’d file it on Monday and that it would almost certainly be granted immediately. Then Kelsey could come back home and get back to business as usual.
Home?
This place had never felt less like a home, and she was suddenly thrilled to be going somewhere else, even if it was maybe not the best idea. It certainly wasn’t the worst.
She jumped up and finished packing, then went to the bathroom to grab her toiletries. Ten minutes later, she hefted her duffel bag and met him in the living room. “Ready.”
He swept up the growler, which was still almost half-full, from the table. “Excellent. Let me get your duffel.” He took the bag from her and walked toward the door. “Can you grab the leftover pizza?” He nodded toward the table.
She plucked her jacket from the hook by the door and locked up as he started down the stairs.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“I park it a few blocks away.”
He opened the door to the sidewalk and stepped outside. “Okay, you really need to move. We’re going to work on that too. Actually, if our roommate thing works out, you’ll be all set.”
She followed him and pulled the door shut. “You didn’t like having a roommate.”
“I didn’t like having Jamie as a roommate. There’s a big difference.”
She chuckled. “Maybe you won’t like me either. I thought we both valued alone time.”
She started toward the corner, and he fell into step beside her.
He slid her a sexy glance. “Something tells me I won’t mind spending time with you at all.”
A spring leapt into her step as she walked toward the repair shop where she parked her car.
Fifteen minutes later, he’d directed her to his house, a little bungalow with a darling porch. “You didn’t tell me your house was so cute! I’ve walked by here a hundred times, and it always catches my eye. Needs some flowers, though.”
“You can fix that,” he said. “Just pull into the driveway.”
She parked next to his Jeep. “I can’t plant flowers in October. Don’t you know anything about plants?”
He grinned. “As it happens, I do. I mean in the spring.”
As in five months from now? “Let’s get through the next few days, shall we?”
“Ouch. Is that all I get? A few days?”
She loved this teasing, flirty thing they had going on. It was especially great for keeping her mind from turning down all sorts of dark paths. But she grew serious. “This is temporary. You get that, right?”
He saluted her. “Whatever you say, boss.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious. Or at least I’m trying to be.”
He gave her a level stare. “I know. And you are the boss—don’t forget that.” He opened the door and stepped out of the car.
Kelsey took a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t about to make another colossal mistake.
Chapter Ten
Rain beat against the window in Jamie’s old bedroom, but it didn’t wake Luke up. He’d spent a relatively restless night on the futon, both because it wasn’t his comfortable queen-sized bed and because said bed currently housed his alluring new roommate.
Luke had insisted that she take his bed and he’d sleep on the futon. She’d fought him on it, but in the end, he’d said that her refusal meant they would both sleep on the futon. Togeth
er.
Sadly, she’d decided to use his bed.
He rolled over and looked at his phone. It was way early. He should try to sleep a little more. Ha. His morning wood was already raging, and thoughts of Kelsey across the hall weren’t doing much to quell that.
There were ways to ease that discomfort—ways that wouldn’t violate their no-sexy-times pact. Ways that didn’t involve her. Sigh.
Realizing there was no point in trying to sleep, he got up and took a shower. After getting dressed, he went to the kitchen to make coffee.
He heard the telltale creak of his door as it opened and looked up to see Kelsey stretching as she emerged from the hallway. She wore long, plaid pajama pants and a dark red Henley. As she raised her arms, the shirt pulled against her chest, clearly showing that she was not wearing a bra. Her breasts curved deliciously beneath the fabric, their nipples drawing his hungry gaze.
“Morning,” she rasped, and her just-woken voice did a number on his already taxed libido. What was the point in jacking off in the shower if you were going to get pent-up fifteen minutes later?
“Morning.” He sounded as if he’d swallowed a bag of glass. “Coffee?”
“Sure, thanks. What time do you usually head to work?”
“Depends. I’ll probably take off soon.” Because if he didn’t, he might have to take another shower.
He poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the island in the center of the kitchen. “Milk or sugar? I think Jamie might’ve left some vanilla creamer.”
She padded into the kitchen. “That sounds great.”
He opened the fridge to check the bottle. It also gave him something to do besides stare at the sexy mess of her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. “Hmm. The date on it is today.” He set the creamer next to the steaming mug.
“I’ll risk it.” She opened the bottle and poured a healthy dollop into her coffee. “Thanks.” She smiled as she lifted the cup.
What the hell had he been thinking inviting her to stay here and then agreeing to no sexy business, not even kissing?
He abruptly spun about and found a travel mug for his coffee. After filling it, he turned. “Time for work. I’ll, uh, see you later?”
She nodded. “I’ll be late. I work at the library today and then a shift at The Arch and Vine until eleven thirty.”
He felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. It meant they wouldn’t spend time together, but it also meant he wouldn’t be tortured. In fact, he’d try to get to sleep before she even came home.
“The spare key is hanging over there.” He pointed to a row of three hooks on the wall next to the coat closet.
“Got it. Thanks again. I really appreciate you letting me crash here.” She smiled again, and he decided he really needed to get the hell out of there.
“Okay then, see you later!” He grabbed his jacket from the closet and his phone and keys and took off.
After immersing himself in a few hours of strenuous outdoor work and driving his tractor around, Luke went into the winery to do some office work. He climbed the stairs to the upper level where he and his brothers and Hayden, and soon Brooke, had office space. Hayden’s and Cam’s offices were on one side, while Luke’s and Jamie’s were on the other. The middle area was broken up with a couple of offices, one of which would be Brooke’s, space for future cubicles, and a conference room overlooking the vineyard.
As he approached his office, Jamie practically ran him down in the corridor.
“Hey, Luke, so, uh, I stopped by the house this morning.”
Well, crap. He hadn’t planned to keep Kelsey staying with him a secret, but neither had he meant to put her on the spot by having Jamie drop by unannounced. Furthermore, he didn’t really want to talk about the situation. Best to just keep this to a minimum.
Luke didn’t pause, just kept going to his office, knowing Jamie would follow him. “So you ran into Kelsey, then.” He turned when he reached his desk. “She needed a place to crash for a few days, and I had a spare room. No big deal.”
Ha, it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it was wreaking havoc on his life. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“Something wrong with her apartment?” Jamie asked.
Luke latched on to that excuse—her personal life and the reason she was staying with him weren’t anyone’s business unless she decided it was. “It has issues. She’s actually looking to move. She’d been hoping to get Brooke’s loft, but you beat her to it.”
Jamie winced. “Oh, yikes. Well, now I feel bad. Is her place terrible?”
“Like I said, it has problems. She’ll just keep looking.”
“Are you sure? Because I could just come back to the house, I guess.” He sounded disappointed, but Luke knew the offer was genuine.
“That’s really cool of you, Jamie.” Luke shook his head. “But don’t worry about it. I know how much you love the loft.”
Jamie smiled a bit sheepishly. “I really do. Reminds me a bit of my flat in London.” He’d lived over there for a couple of years while going to the London School of Economics.
“That’s great.” Luke smiled at him as he sat down and opened his laptop, hoping Jamie would buy the clue and leave.
But he didn’t. “So it seems like there’s something between you and Kelsey, no?” He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “She’s pretty cool.”
They were kind of dating. Had at least been on a date or two, and she was coming to the wine dinner with him on Saturday. “There’s…something. We’re taking it pretty slowly. Just checking out the landscape.”
Jamie nodded slowly. “Good plan. All right, then, I’ll leave you to it.” He turned and left.
Luke scrubbed a hand over his face and read through his e-mail. Then his phone pinged.
Kelsey: Wanted to let you know that you’re out of milk. I can pick some up, but you’ll likely beat me home.
Home.
She’d called it home. It was a simple word, one that didn’t necessarily mean anything except the place you planned to lay your head that night. How many times had he referred to a hotel room as home when on vacation? Why then did her usage of it give him a little jolt? A warmth that pressed into his chest and spread.
He responded to her, saying he’d pick some up. He wanted to ask how she’d slept, whether his bed was comfortable. Damn, imagining her in his bed was a thoroughly captivating image. The dark waves of her hair cascading over his pillow, her long, lithe legs tangled in his sheets… He needed to get a serious grip.
And get back to work.
He’d make himself so tired that he’d fall asleep long before she came home from work that night.
And there was that damn word again: home. Something about it evoked Kelsey. That had never happened with Paige. She’d mentioned moving in together several times, and he’d always balked. Somehow, Kelsey was different.
But how? It wasn’t as if they’d been together a long time. Hell, he hadn’t even made love to her yet.
Yet.
He dropped his head into his hands and stared, unseeing, at his desk. They were taking it slow all right. He just hoped he could survive it.
Kelsey rushed into Luke’s house after working at the library on Saturday. She’d had to dash back to her apartment to pick up her dress and shoes for tonight. It was a warm fall day, and after running around—on foot—she needed a shower.
She glanced at the clock on the wall near the kitchen, saw that it was already five forty, and dumped her stuff to jump in the shower.
As she turned on the water, she thought about how she didn’t remotely miss her apartment. In less than a minute, she’d step into nice hot water here, whereas at her apartment, she’d have to wait a good five minutes to reach a moderately warm temperature.
In three short days, Luke’s house felt more like home than her apartment ever had. It wasn’t hard to figure out why—the adorable bungalow was cozy and possessed several amenities her apartment didn’t, such as the hot water he
ater from this century, a dishwasher, and a washer and dryer. The luxury of not having to go to the Laundromat was practically swoonworthy.
Then there was Luke’s bed, which was about the most comfortable thing she’d ever slept on. And it smelled like him. It was, in a word, torture.
She stepped into the shower and quickly scrubbed up—she didn’t have a lot of time. It was a good thing Luke was at the winery so she could run around half-naked as she got ready.
She’d barely seen him—they’d crossed paths briefly Thursday morning and then again this morning. She’d worked late the past two nights, which had probably been for the best. She wasn’t sure she could handle spending time with him in these close quarters without taking things to the next level.
Why had she wanted this stupid no-sexy-times rule? Because she was trying to take this relationship—or whatever it was—slow. She liked Luke. A lot. But the specter of Noah, especially now that he was out of prison, loomed large in her mind.
Still, did that mean she couldn’t have sex with Luke? Because, good Lord, she wanted to have sex with Luke.
But sex opened up the potential for new feelings and a deeper connection. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Even if she wanted it.
Which she did. She was tired of being alone, she realized. And wasn’t that a revelation?
She turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry off. Wrapping it around herself, she padded from the bathroom to the living room where she’d left her dress draped over the back of the couch.
She didn’t make it that far, however, because Luke was standing there staring at her. His gaze snapped to her face, but not before checking out her barely covered, still-damp body.
“I, uh, left my dress there.” She inclined her head toward the couch, but Luke didn’t follow her gaze.
“Yeah, you might need that.” His gaze dipped again. He abruptly took a step back, as if to give her ample space to grab the dress.
She snapped her free hand out—the other was holding the towel in place because she didn’t trust it to not fall away—and plucked her dress up. “I thought you were at the winery already.”