by Cindy Gerard
He groaned low and deep and with effort rolled off her and onto his back. Spread-eagle. Totally male. Utterly remarkable.
“Be gentle with me.”
She pressed up on an elbow and grinned down at him. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”
“So you know… I need a little recovery time.”
She kissed the center of his chest. “Not a problem. All you have to do is lie there.”
“I can do that.”
She didn’t want thoughts of J.R. in this bed. Not fair to him. Not fair to Ty. But the differences were too huge to ignore. With J.R., it had been all about the intensity. With Ty, it was that and more. It was fun. There was laughter. She liked the laughter. She liked the heat. So she ignored the scars—the ones on his back and the one she’d discovered on his shoulder—because she didn’t want more reminders of war in this bed tonight, either.
She took her time, then, took her pleasure exploring and engaging her power over him with each light finger stroke, with the press of her lips against flesh that was tender and sensitive and so responsive.
“You’re killing me.” His hands knotted in her hair, gently tugged.
She smiled against that sensitive spot where groin met thigh, fascinated by the thrum of his pulse beneath her lips, the depth of his ragged breaths, the fact that her brazen exploration delivered the sweetest kind of torment.
“And oh, what’s this?” He swelled in her hand as she surrounded him. “Not so much recovery time, after all?”
He laughed. “Remember… you started this.”
She rose to her knees and straddled him, slowly guided him home. “I did. Now I’m going to finish it.”
And then she moved. Taking him in. Taking him deep, until his hips rose to meet hers, and his hands covered her breasts, finessing her nipples into aching, hard peaks, and she became as caught up as he was.
“Jess.” Her name eased out on a whisper, a curse, and finally a plea as he gripped her hips and slammed her down over him one final time, coming on a low, throaty groan and tipping her over the edge with him.
IT WAS BARELY daylight when Ty eased out from under the sheet so as not to wake Jess. On the floor by the bed, the pup raised his head, his tail thumping softly on the rug.
“Shh.” He scratched the dog’s ears and lightly tapped his thigh so Bear would follow him.
“You’re a good dog, aren’t you?” he murmured.
The Lab padded out of the bedroom with him, toenails clicking softly on polished hardwood as he followed Ty down the hall to the kitchen.
He hadn’t seen much of her apartment last night. The minute they’d returned to the store and double-checked the locks, she’d led him upstairs. She’d flicked on an end-table lamp that had bathed the living room in a soft glow. He’d gotten quick impressions of lived-in leather, old wood, and splashes of vibrant color. But he’d had eyes for nothing but Jess as she’d led him to her bedroom and, in the shadows, welcomed him to her bed.
“Do you know where she keeps the coffee?” he asked the pup, who sat in the middle of the kitchen with an expectant look on his doggie face. “No? Bet you know where she keeps the dog biscuits.”
Bear’s tail swished softly across the floor.
With the first cupboard door he opened, he hit pay dirt—for him and the dog.
He opened a box of dog biscuits and tossed one to the pup. Bear caught it like a pro.
“Somebody’s been practicing.”
He’d figured out how to load the coffee pot and had turned it on when he heard Jess behind him.
He turned around and thought, wow. She looked exactly the way a woman should after a night of amazing sex. Her lips looked bee-stung, her hair was beautifully tousled, and her eyes were sooty and sleepy. The only thing out of place was the tentative smile.
“We woke you.”
She shook her head. “No. It was time to get up.”
Wearing only the jeans he’d found on the floor by her bed, he walked barefoot over to where she stood wearing a short, silky blue robe and, he hoped, nothing else.
She moved in to him on a sigh, and he drew her against him, gathered fistfuls of silk, and moved it out of his way so he could fill his palms with her bare cheeks.
“Last night was amazing, Jess.”
She tipped her head back, and he saw the smile he wanted. A confident woman’s smile that negated the hint of uncertainty he never wanted to see in her eyes again.
“It was,” she agreed, and lifted her face to his. Then she kissed him the way a man liked to be kissed.
“Now, that’s the way to tell a man good morning.”
“It is a good morning.”
She kissed him again, and he toyed with the belt of her robe. “Maybe we should take this back to the bedroom.”
“I wish. But I’ve got to get moving.”
He liked the disappointed look on her face. And he’d known she needed to get ready for work but couldn’t help being disappointed himself. “How much time do you have?”
She stretched up on her toes and looked over his shoulder to the clock that hung on the wall above the sink. “Less than an hour. And I’ve got to take Bear for a run, shower, set up the cash registers—”
“Enough said,” he said reluctantly. “You’re a working woman. Go. Take Bear for his run. I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back.”
She regarded him from beneath knit brows. “Seriously?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Because you don’t have to do that.”
“Cook for you? I want to.”
When she still looked skeptical, it dawned on him that maybe it wasn’t the cooking that was hanging her up. This was a small, tightly knit community. His presence here so early in the morning would be cause for much speculation and gossip. Something she wouldn’t be comfortable with.
“Do you want me to go? To not be here… as in here, here when you open up?” He lifted a hand to encompass her apartment. “It’s not a problem. I can head over to Whispering Pines and rent a cabin from Shelley.”
“No. I want you here. I just feel bad. Two of my regulars asked to have their hours cut because they’ve started football practice. I won’t be able to take as much time off to be with you as I’d hoped.”
He touched a hand to her soft curls. “Jess. I didn’t expect you to drop everything to entertain me—well, except maybe in there.” He hitched his chin toward the bedroom and gave her a lecherous sneer.
He loved the sound of her laugh as she pulled away and headed for the bedroom. “You’re going to be bored.”
“Not if last night was any barometer.”
“I’m talking about during the day.”
“Let me worry about that. Go walk your dog. He’s standing by the door with his legs crossed.”
When she came out of the bedroom in shorts, a tank top, and running shoes, her face was sober. “You need to know. J.R.’s brother, Brad. He’ll show up once word spreads. He won’t be happy about you being here. In fact, there’s a good chance he’ll be looking for a fight.”
He walked across the room and cupped her shoulders. “I understand about brothers. It’ll be OK.” Then he gave her a squeeze. “Now, go. Bear’s about to spring a leak.”
“MORNING, JESS,” KAYLA said. “Interesting to note that the rental pickup Ty drove up in yesterday is parked in exactly the same spot that it was in when I locked up last night.”
“Interesting to a snoop, maybe.” Jess smiled to take the bite out of her warning to Kayla.
Of course, it didn’t faze the nineteen-year-old, who found Ty’s return and the fact that he’d obviously spent the night way too interesting. “So… is he as good as he looks?”
Jess expelled a deep sigh. “When do classes start for you?”
Kayla giggled. “Ready to get rid of me?”
“Ready to strangle you, but since there’s a law against it, I guess I’ll have to come up with something else.”
“Don’t worry, boss. Your
secret’s safe with me.”
About that time, her “secret” opened the door that led to the stairs to her apartment and walked into the store, looking absolutely edible in faded jeans and a white T-shirt.
He glanced from Kayla with her Cheshire Cat grin to Jess and lifted his brows. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Kayla was about to straighten up the shelves holding the sweatshirts and T-shirts. We had a crowd in here yesterday, and I swear they dragged every single shirt out of its cubby and stuffed it back in a wad.”
“Guess I’ll be folding shirts if anyone needs me.” Kayla gave Ty a thumbs-up and headed for the shelves.
“What’s that about?” Ty met Jess on the other side of the counter.
“She thinks we’re cute.”
“I think you’re cute.” He leaned in close. “And very, very hot.”
She hated that heat flushed her cheeks. The fact that it made him laugh didn’t take much of the sting out of her involuntary physical reaction.
“Why don’t you put me to work today?” he said, still grinning.
“What? No. I don’t want to do that.”
“I want you to. If you don’t have anything for me to do in the store, give me something to do outside. I’m not a thumb twiddler.”
“I seem to recall you bought a fishing pole and some tackle last time you were here. You should go fishing. Or hike one of the trails. Or explore the shoreline. Shelley and Darrin would loan you a kayak. Just don’t go too far out in open water, or you might get lost.”
“You sure you’re not trying to get rid of me?”
“After that breakfast? Are you kidding?” He’d fried bacon, made French toast, and squeezed oranges for juice.
“Ah, so it’s my cooking skills that won you over?”
She glanced over to the shirt section to make sure Kayla was out of earshot. “Among other things.”
Her cheeks were still stained bright red when the bell above the door rang and the first customer of the day walked inside.
Chapter 14
“I APPROVE OF YOUR NEW HANDYMAN.”
It was almost noon when Jess closed the lid on the ice cream cooler to see Boots walk in.
She looked up at him. “Handyman?”
“Good-lookin’ fella. Struck me as a nice guy. Knows what he’s doing, too. Had a little talk with him outside while he worked on your shed roof.”
She scowled, wiped her hands on a paper towel, and headed outside. “Kayla. Ring up these cones, will you? I’ll be right back.”
Ty had made himself scarce, and it had been a busy morning, so Jess hadn’t had time to give him more than a passing thought. OK, a lot of passing thoughts, most of them having to do with the way they’d spent last night in her bed and how eager she was for tonight to get here so they could start all over again.
In the meantime, she’d hoped he’d gone fishing or kayaking as she’d suggested, but as Boots promised, she found Ty on his knees on the slanted roof of her storage shed, a hammer in one hand, a nail apron tied around his waist, and a square of shingles on the roof beside him. He’d already torn off all the old shingles, laid tar paper, and nailed the new shingles over three-fourths of the roof.
She shielded her eyes against the sun and glared up at him. “What are you doing?”
“A damn fine job, according to your watchdog.” He slammed the hammer down, then dug into the apron. “Boots, right? Now, there’s a character.”
“Get down from there right now.”
“Save that tone for tonight. I love it when you go all boss lady on me.”
“Ty!”
He hammered another nail. “I’m almost done.”
“You are done. I’m serious. I don’t want you working like that.”
He finally looked down at her, then glanced around the parking lot to make certain no one was within earshot. “Afraid I’ll be worn out tonight?”
That grin, she’d learned, could be as infuriating as it was infectious. And the way he looked… his hair and shirt damp with sweat, the veins in his forearms bulging with pumping blood, his worn jeans hugging his hips and thighs and showing a hint of pale, smooth skin where his T-shirt had ridden up… well, as upset as she was, if she managed to haul him down off that roof, she might not stop hauling until she’d led him up the stairs, straight to the shower, and joined him there.
“I don’t want you working,” she insisted, dragging her gaze back to his face. “Period. I especially don’t want you shingling my roof.”
“You’re saying it didn’t need it? Look… I was digging around for a hammer to fix the back door, and I found the shingles inside the shed. Figured you planned on hiring someone to do the job.”
“What I planned was to do it myself when business slows down in the fall.”
“Then that’s all the better reason for me to do it. Gives me a chance to feel all studly on your behalf.”
She grunted. “Spoken like a manly man.”
He laughed. “Consider it payment for room and board.”
As if she was going to charge him. “You’re going to hurt your back.”
“You let me worry about my back. I’ll have this finished by mid-afternoon. Easy peasy. Tomorrow I’ll put that roll of window screen to use.”
She wanted to be mad. But how could she? He’d saved her a ton of work and had probably done a better job than she would have. As for the window screen, she’d bought it two years ago with the intent of replacing the ratty screens on both the store and her apartment windows. Various other projects had always taken priority.
Then again, everything about the store was a project. The building was more than eighty years old. It required constant maintenance, most of which she tried to do herself to save money. Besides, doing things herself was important to her. She didn’t want to be dependent. She particularly didn’t want to depend on Ty, who was not about to become a permanent fixture in her life. And she didn’t him want him to be.
She didn’t want to find it endearing, either, that he liked her dog, was fascinated by the lake, and made her breakfast. And she didn’t want to get used to him “fixing” things for her. Before she knew it, she’d become reliant on him. She’d already, in this very short time, come to count on him to make her smile, to make her feel pretty, to remind her what it was like to be a woman who was attracted to a man—a man who made it clear, without pushing, that he was very attracted to her.
But none of this was about the long term, and if she wasn’t careful, she could end up wishing that it was.
“Did you know that those gorgeous brown eyes of yours actually snap when you’re mad? Hey,” he added softly when she didn’t smile. “Don’t look so mean. I told you. I’m not good at twiddling my thumbs. I like to work. And as Boots and you can both attest, I’m pretty good with my hands.”
That teasing grin again. And oh, she knew exactly how good he was with those hands.
“Jess?”
“What?” She crossed her arms belligerently around her midriff and scowled up at him.
“As long as you’re out here, I could use another bottle of water. It’s warm up here.”
“Ya think?” Anger seemed her only option. “It’s August. It’s noon. It’s at least ninety degrees outside.”
Her mini-tirade didn’t daunt him. “You forget. I live in Florida. This is jogging weather.”
“You’re going to learn not to tease me, flyboy.” She spun around and headed back to the store for his water. “There will be retaliation.”
“If I said, ‘Oh, goody,’ would I lose my stud card?”
She didn’t turn around, but she knew he was having a good chuckle at her expense as she jerked open the store’s back door. In spite of her determination not to be charmed by everything about him—even his teasing—she smiled as she reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle of water.
“I’M THINKING YOU made a great nurse. You have healing hands. Very healing hands,” Ty murmured into the pillow as he lay o
n his stomach on the bed, enjoying Jess’s back and shoulder massage.
It had become a nightly event this past week. One he looked forward to—among other things—at the end of each day. Currently, she straddled his thighs, and even without seeing her, he knew that the straps on her short black silk and lace nightgown were giving her trouble. The thought of that soft, tan skin made it difficult to stay on his stomach. The massage, however, proved great enticement to stay put. She really did have magic hands.
On the second day after he’d returned, she’d finally quit hassling him about fixing things for her. Not that she’d given in easily. They’d more or less agreed to disagree when she’d finally accepted that he was as stubborn as she was. There were so many things that needed to be done that he never ran out of projects. Today he’d found a gallon of paint in her hall closet marked “Kitchen,” so he’d painted the room for her. The woman had too much on her plate. He liked lightening her load.
And she liked pampering him because of it. A win-win any way you sliced it.
“I saw a float plane buzz the store on the way to the lake today,” he said sleepily. “What’s the story there?”
She squirted more lotion on her hands and went to work on his lower back. “That would be Wade Cummings. He flies charters into fishing camps on Crane and Rainy Lakes. Keeps him busy most of the summer and even into the winter. Some of these guys can’t get enough, so he switches out the pontoons with sleds and flies in groups for ice fishing.”
“He the only game in town?”
“He is now. A guy out of Vermillion, about forty miles south of here, ran his own charter, but he retired last year.”
He didn’t say anything else, but he was thinking. A lot. Maybe someone ought to start another charter business. Maybe that someone should be him. Key West Air Cargo might need to diversify. But it was still early in this game. He and Jess were still getting to know each other—at least, she was getting to know him. He knew all that he needed to know about her.
He also knew that he was falling for her. Falling hard and fast, growing more enamored by the day with this independent, hardworking woman who had taken so much on her slim shoulders and bore the weight without complaint or a hint of self-pity over the hits life had given her. She was a survivor. She was a siren. And he hoped like hell that one day soon, she’d acknowledge and accept that there was no need for barriers between them.