Hard Wood (Hard n' Dirty Book 3)

by Tara Crescent

  Or maybe they do. All I know is that right now, I don’t want to talk. I want to sink into her softness, and I want to hear her moan my name.

  I want her to curl up in my arms and fall asleep.

  I want to wake up with her snuggled next to me.

  And I don’t want to put a label on this thing between us. Not yet. Because Cat’s too important, and when I promise her something, I will move heaven and earth to fulfill it.

  22

  Cat

  I’m confused as fuck.

  Don’t know what to do. Not sure what to think. On the one hand, Dom’s friends, the people who’ve known him his entire life, have said that he’s commitment phobic.

  But on the other hand, he’s here. He fixed the cabin I’m staying in. He invited me to hang out with his friends. He even fixed the toilets in the brewpub.

  This doesn’t seem like casual sex. He’s putting in too much effort. He’s investing too much of his time. Going to be blunt: He doesn’t need to work this hard for pussy. Dominic Wilde is sex on a stick. I’ve seen the way women drool at him. I’ve seen the looks he gets. All he has to do is smile that smoldering, sexy smile, and every woman in this town would line up to sleep with him.

  I like putting labels on things. I like people neatly slotted into place. I might be a woman in a male-dominated industry, but that doesn’t change who I am. I will always be the woman who colors inside the lines. Who obsesses over her to-do list and is happiest crossing items off it.

  But Dom doesn’t seem to be a fan of labels. Whatever is happening between us, Dom would prefer it to be nameless. He doesn’t want to talk. Doesn’t want to make promises.

  Instead, he installs my toilets. He might not say much, but with every gesture, he’s showing me he can make the effort. Through his actions, he’s making me feel like the most important person in his life.

  Time and time again, Dom’s let me be myself. He doesn’t make fun of my obsessive to-do lists. He’s accepted me for who I am. In less than two weeks, he’s been more supportive than Will was in two years.

  It’s time I returned the favor. What we have feels like a relationship, but if Dom doesn’t want to call it that, I’m not going to push him. If it turns out I was wrong, and it was always just casual sex, so be it.

  Dominic Wilde is obviously uncomfortable with putting a label on our relationship. I care about him too much to ask him to be someone he’s not.

  “What are you doing Saturday?”

  “Nothing.” I stretch lazily. It’s Friday evening, and I’m at Dom’s again, making him watch the Last Starfighter. He’s not a fan, and if I’m being perfectly honest, I’ll admit the movie doesn’t age well. “All I have to do is check the tanks in the afternoon, and that’ll only take me fifteen minutes. I can’t believe I have an entire day to myself. I might drive to the nearest big box grocery store. Or maybe I’ll lounge around in my brand-new bed all day and binge-watch one bad sci-fi movie after another. I haven’t decided yet.”

  He gives me an amused look. “Dakota and I have lunch with my mother every other Saturday. Want to join us?”

  “Umm, really? Are you sure?”

  He rolls his eyes. “You keep asking me that,” he says. “And I keep telling you the same thing. Would I ask you if I wasn’t?” He massages the balls of my feet. “My mother makes a mean lasagna.”

  I’ve tasted Sandra’s cooking. If it were just lunch, I’d be in like a shot. This, however, feels more intimidating. I’m meeting the family.

  Don’t be ridiculous, Cat. Sandra’s your landlady. You’ve met her hundreds of times.

  Dom tickles my feet lightly. “You’re overthinking this, spitfire.”

  I fix him with a death glare. I’m extremely ticklish. “You do that again, and I will kick you in the balls.”

  He laughs out loud. “Is that a yes for lunch?”

  My common sense seems to have taken a hiatus this week. What the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Sure. Count me in.”

  Dom’s twin sister Dakota is the spitting image of her mother. Same wavy brown hair, same blue eyes. She shakes my hand. “Before I decide if I like you,” she says, fixing me with a piercing gaze. “I need to find out what kind of food the brewpub will be serving.”

  “Dakota,” Sandra exclaims, looking shocked. She was in the middle of putting the beer I’d brought in the refrigerator, but she stops dead in her tracks and glares at her daughter. “Cut that out. Cat, I apologize for Dakota’s rudeness. Even though she’s acting like it, she was not raised by wolves.”

  Dom shakes his head and wraps his arm around me. “She’s serving sausages, you idiot,” he says, his voice thick with exasperation. “Can you be nice now?”

  A cheerful smile replaces Dakota’s frown. “Absolutely,” she says, beaming at me. “Welcome to Madison. I’m so happy that we’re finally getting some decent beer to drink. The selection at the Bull Horn…” She shudders. “Horrible. Sorry about the rudeness. I get prickly about competition.”

  I have to laugh. “I completely understand. I’d feel the same way if I were you.”

  The four of us settle down in Sandra’s living room. “The lasagna needs twenty more minutes,” she explains. “We can drink Cat’s beer while we wait.”

  Dakota leans forward curiously. “Is your beer ready already?”

  I shake my head. “Not the beer in the tanks. Those still need to ferment three more weeks. I brought beer from my personal stock. I’ve made some of it, but most of it is brewed by other people.” I give them a reassuring look. “It’s nothing too weird.”

  Sandra’s eyes gleam. “I’m quite excited to try everything,” she says. “I lived for a year in Germany when I was in my early twenties.”

  Dom puts his hand around my shoulders again, a gesture that both his mother and sister notice. “I’m willing to bet that half the reason my mom rented to you is because you’re a brewer,” he teases. “She’s hoping for an inside connection.”

  “Dominic Alexander Wilde,” Sandra scolds, her cheeks flaming. “Don’t listen to him, Cat. He’s terrible.”

  This is so different from hanging out with my family. There’s a deep vein of affection that runs between Dom, Sandra, and Dakota. They tease and mock each other mercilessly, but their love for each other is obvious.

  “I have something to confess,” Dakota says sheepishly as we sample the beer I brought. “I was convinced you were going to serve pizza at the brewpub, and I made Dom hire Gino. His mother’s my main chef. For a while, I lived in fear that you were going to poach her from me.”

  “We thought about it for about five minutes,” I confess. “But it was quickly abandoned. Your pizza is excellent, and we wouldn’t have been able to compete.”

  Sandra turns to Dom. “That’s why you hired Gino?” She chuckles. “I thought you’d lost your senses.”

  “He’s doing a good job,” Dom says, coming to his apprentice’s defense. “I’m glad I hired him. Stop smirking, Dakota. You had no idea he was going to be good at carpentry.”

  She grins. “True. So, you’re serving sausages?”

  “Sausages, fries, pickled vegetables, that kind of thing.”

  “Easy on the kitchen,” she nods. “That’s a smart move. It’s really hard to find skilled workers in the summer. The less they have to learn, the better. You’re opening Victoria Day weekend?”

  My to-do list swims in front of my eyes, and I dismiss it. I’ve earned this day off, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to worry about the brewpub today. Like Dom says, it’s not as if the work’s going anywhere. My list will still be there Monday morning.

  “Yes,” I confirm. “Vicki sent in our restaurant license application to the town council yesterday. We still have a lot to do, but if we hustle like mad, we’re going to pull it off.” I cross my fingers as I say it. “My partner, Victoria Egan, has been in the restaurant business her entire life. She’s getting here the week after next. As soon as Hurricane Vicki makes landfall, we’ll be in
a mad scramble.”

  I feel a twinge of resentment. Vicki should have been here on Monday. Instead, she’s a full seven days behind schedule. All because her current love-interest invited her to his cottage.

  Once again, Dom’s right. I really need to talk to Vicki about her focus.

  “If you need any help, just ask,” Dakota says. “I’ve had a few years experience getting ready for tourist season, and my team’s great. You need extra hands to paint, move furniture, whatever, we’re around.”

  Warmth floods through me. At the start of the month, I felt alone in Madison. I was living in a hovel, sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor, and working long hours by myself. Now, in just a couple of short weeks, I feel connected. A part of the community. People are invested in my success. People care about my brewpub.

  Because of Dom.

  I really, really hope this isn’t casual sex. Because I’m crazy, head-over-heels in love with him.

  23

  Dom

  After lunch, my mother gives Cat a tour of her studio, a place she’s normally very private about. “These are beautiful,” Cat says, her voice soft with appreciation. “Would you believe that though I’ve seen your paintings at Dom’s place, I never put two and two together and realized that you’re the artist?”

  “She trades me paintings for handyman stuff,” I tell Cat cheerfully. “If you play your cards right, and bring her enough beer…”

  Cat laughs. “I need to find a place to stay first. If all goes well, and our projections are right, hopefully, I’ll be apartment hunting in October or November.”

  My mother and my sister exchange glances. The hair on the back of my neck rises. The two of them have been giving each other meaningful looks all afternoon. If I’m not careful, I’m going to face an onslaught of questions.

  Cat catches sight of the clock in my mother’s studio. “It’s three already,” she says, sounding startled. “I should probably go check on my tanks. Sandra, thank you so much for lunch, and Dakota, it was great meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” my sister replies. “Dom, you don’t have to run off, do you? Stick around.”

  I know that tone. My mother can wheedle the truth out of me, and so can my sister. The two of them together? I’m not crazy; I’m getting the hell out of here. I don’t see why they need to question me. They’re not stupid people. My actions speak for themselves. I’ve never brought a woman home before. Surely, they should be able to put two and two together without my help.

  “Sorry, I can’t stay. I’m behind on a couple of orders. Need to get caught up.”

  Cat gives me a guilty look as she gets into her car. “It’s my fault you’re behind,” she murmurs. “You’ve been helping me out but neglecting your own work.”

  “I’m not behind, I lied.” She rolls down her window, and I lean in and kiss her. “Come over tonight?”

  I’ve spent every single night this week with her, and I still can’t get enough.

  “Are you sure?” she asks automatically, then shakes her head wryly. “Never mind, I know what you’re going to say. Can we binge-watch Bewitched episodes?”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  She laughs at my expression. “Okay, I was joking. I own the entire series on DVD, but sadly, it’s in storage back in Toronto. It’s your turn to pick a movie.”

  “Or, we can skip the movie, and I can demonstrate the features of a new chair I’m building for one of Zach’s friends.”

  Her breathing catches, and her eyes go dark with desire. “You’re going to tie me up again?” she asks, her voice husky. “I’d really like that.”

  I stop by the grocery store on my way home. I’m about to enter when a voice stops me. “Wilde. Wait up. I’d like a word.”

  Roger fucking Wexler.

  “Wexler.” I nod coolly. “What’s up?”

  He lifts his chin pugnaciously. “I have a bone to pick with you. You told Luke Santner that I was trying to destroy his marriage.”

  I have no interest in denying it. “Yeah, I did. What of it?”

  “That’s slander.”

  I snort. Some people watch a fucking episode of Law and Order and think they’re lawyers. “No, it’s not. Every single person in this town knows you’ve had your eye on Ruby since high school. If Ruby ever showed any sign of interest in you, you’d have dumped Trisha Tomassini like a hot potato. Of course, Ruby’s always been too smart to go out with a cheating scumbag like you.”

  His jaw tightens. “Shut the fuck up,” he snarls. “You think I won’t punch you, Wilde?”

  I’ve got four inches and thirty pounds on Wexler. “Go ahead,” I invite him. “Make my day.” Unlike Han Solo, I’m not going to punch first. But if Roger Wexler takes a swing at me, I have no problem hitting back. I’d quite enjoy it.

  Sadly, he doesn’t. “Santner’s been bad-mouthing me all over town,” he says, his expression ugly. “I’ve already lost one contract. You’re going to pay for this, Wilde. You think you’re Madison’s golden boy, don’t you? Everything is easy for Dominic Wilde. I’m going to ruin your fucking life.”

  I roll my eyes. If I had a dollar for every time Wexler got bent out of shape about something, I’d be richer than Zach. “Knock yourself out, asshole.”

  24

  Cat

  There’s a car in front of the brewpub when I pull up. A car I recognize. Vicki’s cherry-red Mini Cooper.

  I don’t understand. The two of us talked earlier this week, and she asked if she could do her check-in via phone, instead of driving all the way to Madison, and then back out to Liam’s cottage, which was three hours east of Toronto,

  Once again, not wanting to sound like a bitch, I’d agreed, even though I wasn’t thrilled about it.

  What is she doing here?

  I unlock the brewpub and walk in. Vicki’s in the front room, admiring the bar. Oh, that’s right. The snowstorm last weekend meant she couldn’t drive out. She’s never seen it. “Gorgeous, right?”

  She jumps, startled. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry. I thought you’d heard the door open.”

  She shakes her head and then gives me a tentative smile. “How are you?”

  Oh God. We’re not doing this again, are we? I have literally zero fucks left to give. Everything I’ve bottled up inside me for the last two or three weeks comes rushing to the surface. Today is my day off. One I’ve earned by being here, and doing the heavy lifting while Vicki stayed back in Toronto. I don’t have patience for Vicki’s small talk. Whatever she’s leading up to, she might as well just tell me directly.

  “What are you doing here, Vicki?” I ask bluntly.

  Her expression fills with surprise at my tone and at my uncharacteristic directness. “You are mad at me.” Her voice is small. “My dad said you’d be.”

  “Yeah. I am.” I take a deep breath. Dom told me I needed to have the tough conversation, and he’s right. As much as my instinct is to back down and smooth over this situation, I know I need to address it. “I cannot believe you would call me and ask me if you could show up here a week late.” I glare at my best friend. “You’ve known me your entire life. You knew I wouldn’t complain about it. You were totally taking advantage of me. Of my desire to avoid an argument.”

  I don’t know how she’s going to react. With anger of her own? With defensiveness? With a justification about how special Liam is, and how terrible a friend I’m being for not seeing that?

  “You’re absolutely right.”

  My mouth drops open. “Umm, okay? I’m missing something.”

  She grimaces. “I had no business asking you if I could go to Liam’s cottage for a week,” she says. “I’m an adult. I knew I was making the wrong decision. But I told myself that if you were fine with it, then it had to be okay.”

  “I was never fine with it.”

  “I know. I could tell from your voice on the phone that you weren’t.”

  I don’t know what to say. I’ve rehearsed this conversat
ion over and over in my head. Best case scenario, I figured Vicki would be pouty and resentful. Worst case scenario, she was going to end our partnership and our friendship.

  Nothing about this conversation is going as planned.

  “Did you break up with Liam?” I look around for a place to sit, but there are no chairs in the front. One of the hundred things we need to attend to. I jump up on the counter, ignoring Vicki’s wide-eyed concern. “It’s pretty sturdy,” I tell her. “I’ve sat on it before.”

  You spread your legs, and Dom ate you out.

  “Okay.” She hoists herself up next to me. “On a scale of one to ten, how angry are you right now?”

  “Is one high or low?” I think I’m teasing. I’m not sure.

  She gives me a sidelong, wary, glance. “Ten’s high. One’s low.”

  “I don’t know yet. Tell me why you’re here. Did you break up with Liam?”

  “No.”

  Okay, that does surprise me. I assumed the reason she was here today instead of next week was because her relationship with Liam imploded. That’s actually pretty damn dickish of me. I might be annoyed as hell with her, but Vicki is my friend, and I’m cheering for her to break up with a guy that she seems crazy about. Not my finest move. “Really?”

  “Yeah. I told him that my biggest priority for the next six weeks is the brewpub.” She bites her lip. “If it’s real, he’ll wait. If it’s not, he’ll move on.”

  She’s got so much faith in love, Vicki. It’s one of the most inspiring things about her. Whatever might happen, Vicki believes that things will work out. I should take a leaf out of her book.

  You have been. You’re not obsessing about Dominic. You’re letting the relationship slowly evolve, without wondering where it’s going and what his intentions are.