by Cher Carson
He cursed at the look of confusion in her light blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not making any sense, am I?”
According to his friends, he was the deal closer, the guy who always got the girl. So why couldn’t he get this girl to admit she felt something for him? He took a deep breath as he took a step toward her. He turned her swivel stool and braced his hands on the counter behind her, crowding her. “I want you,” he said, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He felt her sharp intake of breath when he nuzzled her neck, allowing the stubble on his jaw to scrape her cheek. “You’re the last thing on my mind at night, and I wake up in the morning, hard, imagining…”
She pressed her palms to his ribs. “Imagining what?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer of thanks that she wasn’t giving him the brush off again. This time she was inviting his advances, welcoming his touch. “I imagine you’re taking me in your mouth…”
She whimpered, wrapping her arms around his waist to draw him closer.
“I imagine I’m fisting my hands in your hair...” He considered whether a graphic description was his best option under the circumstances, but being subtle hadn’t gotten him anywhere, and this felt like his last chance. This thing between them had been building for six months, and it looked like she was finally ready to give in to it.
She tipped her head back and looked him in the eye. “I’ve imagined that too,” she whispered. “Do you think you’re the only one who gets turned on thinking about what it would be like between us?”
Dropping his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes. “Then why do you say no every time I ask you out?”
“It’s not that I don’t like you. I do.” She sighed. “I really don’t want to get into this right now.”
A thought occurred to him, one that would explain a lot of things. “Is there someone else? Do you have a boyfriend back home?” He knew she’d moved to the area less than a year ago, and according to her assistant, Melanie, she still traveled home most weekends.
Frowning, she said, “No, of course not.”
Exhaling, he knew he could handle any other obstacle she might throw in his path. “Okay, what is it, then? Why don’t you want to go out with me?”
Her hands slid down to his hips as she hooked her thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans. “I need this job, Shane. If things didn’t work out between us and I lost your business, I don’t know what I’d do, how I’d survive.”
It hit him like a shot to the gut that she thought he would use his position as her employer to try and hurt her if things didn’t work out between them. He took a step back. “I can’t believe you think so little of me. I thought we were friends. I thought…”
She raised her hand, pressing her fingers against his lips. “We are friends, and that’s what makes this so hard. I like you, a lot. Hell, more than I should, but if it didn’t work out between us, how could we continue working together?”
She was right. Being around her would be damn near impossible if he fell even deeper and she dumped him. “But what if it did work out?” he said, holding her face in his hands. “What if we gave this thing a chance and found that we’re perfect for each other?”
The wind picked up as rain started pelting the kitchen windows. Biting her lip, she looked up at the darkening sky. “I should go. My car doesn’t handle very well in the rain.”
Clenching his teeth, he said, “Why do you drive that matchbox car in the first place?”
She tried to slide off the stool, but he gripped her shoulders, holding her firmly in place.
“It’s practical. I drive a lot and being able to plug the car in instead of filling the tank every other day just makes sense.”
He got the feeling it had more to do with her precarious financial situation, but they had more pressing issues to discuss. “Let’s assume we had a relationship and it didn’t work out. That doesn’t mean you would lose us as a client. You could work with Jason instead of me.”
She shifted her body away from him. After propping an elbow on the breakfast bar, she dropped her head in her open palm. “My life is a mess, Shane. Trust me. You don’t want to get involved with me.”
He saw she needed a friend more than she needed a lover, and he was willing to set his own needs aside to support her. Stepping around her, he reached across the counter to grab the wine bottle. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” When she frowned, he said, “We can always call a cab.”
She sighed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a drink, but I sure could use one tonight.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he set the corkscrew. She looked tired and stressed, like she needed sleep and a strong shoulder to lean on. For him, this wasn’t about sex, it was about convincing her to acknowledge this mind-numbing attraction between them. After pouring the wine into the two glasses he’d brought, he handed one to her. He looked around the kitchen, smiling, “Here’s to another job well done, Lacy.”
She smiled. “Thanks for saying that. It means a lot to me that you guys appreciate my work. Some people may think preparing a house for sale is silly, but it really does increase your bottom line.”
He touched his glass to hers. “We wouldn’t continue to use your service unless we felt you had something of value to offer.” He frowned when she dipped her head, refusing to look at him. “Hey, you didn’t think we hired you just because…” He let the question hang in the air between them. Of course that’s what she thought. How could she not? Both he and his brother had been acting like horny teenagers around her for months. “Jesus. I’m sorry, Lacy,” he said, reclaiming his stool.
She took a sip of the wine. “Sorry about what?”
“For not making sure you understood how much value you add to our business. We need you. Jason and I are useless when it comes to picking paint colors, flooring, fixtures…”
She touched his hand, smiling. “That’s sweet of you to say, but you and Jason had a successful business long before I came along.”
“It’s better now,” he said quietly, looking at their joined hands. “My whole life seems better now.” He brought her hand to his lips, looking into her eyes. “I meant what I said earlier; I do think about you all the time, but this is about so much more than sex. I’m falling…” He wanted to tell her the truth about how he felt, but the flash of fear in her eyes showed that she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. “I’m falling for you, Lacy.”
Chapter Three
She watched him press a kiss to her palm. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t developing feelings for you, too. That’s what scares me. I don’t have a lot of experience when it comes to relationships, and I can’t afford to screw this up. I’m not too proud to admit that your contracts mean the difference between doing what I love and working two or three jobs, cleaning, waiting tables, doing whatever I have to do just to get by.”
He knew what that was like. He was there himself not too long ago, but he hated to think of her suffering. She deserved so much better. He was finally financially stable, and he wanted to share his good fortune with her. “Tell me everything there is to know about you.”
If she was surprised by the question, she didn’t let on. “There’s not that much to tell.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “I didn’t know my father growing up. It was always just me, my mom, and my brother.”
He took a sip of wine. “Does your brother live nearby?” He saw her grimace. It may not have been evident to the casual observer, but he was paying close attention. He didn’t want to miss anything. “I’m sorry. Is that a sore subject?”
She twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers, watching the burgundy liquid swirl around the base of the glass. “My brother was in the car the night my mom was killed. He suffered extensive brain damage.” She bit her lip. “Doctors said he would never make it.”
He didn’t know if he should pry. This was obviously
a highly personal issue that still caused her a great deal of pain, but for them to have the kind of relationship he wanted, they had to be able to confide in each other. “But he did survive?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He watched her swallow convulsively, as though she were trying to find her voice past the lump in her throat. He hated to see her hurting like this, knowing he couldn’t do anything to ease her pain. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you don’t want to talk about it…”
She looked him in the eye. “I never talk about it. No one’s ever asked me to talk about it before.”
He found that hard to believe. It was the most traumatic event in her life, and she had no one to help her through it? “I’m here, ready and willing to listen,” he said, reaching over to stroke her back. “I don’t want to force you, but it might help.”
“I was eighteen at the time,” she said, clearing her throat. “My brother was only thirteen...”
He took a deep swallow of wine, wishing he could say or do something to make this easier for her.
“He and my mom were on their way home from a sporting goods store.” She smiled. “Tommy delivered papers all summer to save up money for a new skateboard. He was so excited about it. It was still light outside…” She looked out the window. “It should have been safe. They should have been safe.”
Darkness fell, obscuring the rain, and he wondered if she nervous about driving at night since the accident. “You said a drunk driver hit them?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah, he ran a red light. Bastard,” she whispered, brushing at the tears slipping down her cheeks. “I know it’s wrong to live with hate in your heart, but I can’t help it. I hate him so much, Shane.”
He got up, standing between her legs as he drew her into his arms. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, stroking her hair. She was digging her nails into his back, sobbing into his chest, but he barely noticed the physical pain in the face of her emotional pain. It was all-consuming, almost as though it was too much for her to bear all alone. “Anyone would feel the way you do.”
She shook her head. “The driver was just a kid himself, my age at the time. He was driving home from a friend’s house…” She hiccupped, covering her hand with her mouth. “It was over in a split second. My mother died before I got there.” She shook her head furiously. “I didn’t even get a chance to say to good-bye to her. I never told her I loved her.” She looked up into his eyes, her bright blue eyes rimmed with red and filled to overflowing with tears. “She died never knowing how much I appreciated everything she did for me, for us. She sacrificed so much.”
Pressing her head into his shoulder because he was too much of a coward to face the anguish in her eyes, he tried to find the right words. He imagined what it was like for her at eighteen, losing her mother, having to deal with her brother’s condition, facing it all alone. “Baby, I have no doubt your mom knew how you felt.” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Did you have any family to help you through it?”
Shaking her head, she stroked his back. “No, like I said, my dad wasn’t in the picture. My grandparents disowned my mom when she got pregnant with me at sixteen.”
His family, both immediate and extended, had always been close. He couldn’t imagine what being totally alone in the world felt like. “No aunts, uncles, cousins?” he asked, praying she’d had someone, anyone, to lean on.
“No, my mother was an only child.” She sighed. “You know what they say, if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger, right? I’m still not sure I believe that.”
She’d focused on survival for so long. He couldn’t imagine the last time she’d taken joy in anything or anyone. He pulled back, framing her face with his hands. “How the hell did you survive after your mom died?”
She reached for one of the napkins he’d brought in, wiping her tears. “We had a little house that I was able to sell, and I got a settlement from the accident.” She sighed. “I’ve set it aside for Tommy’s care. It should last another few years, as long as we don’t have any unforeseen expenses. I’m hoping by that time I’ll be earning enough to handle his expenses on my own.”
“Where did you live after your mom died?”
“I got a room in a boarding house not far from the college where I was taking night courses.” She smiled. “My landlady, Mrs. Roberts, was really sweet to me. She insisted I eat dinner with her every night, even though food wasn’t included in my rent. She said she was lonely since her husband died. They never had any children of their own.”
He brushed his thumb over her cheek, saying a silent prayer of thanks for the kindness that stranger had shown Lacy.
“She always did things like that, cooking more food than she needed so I could take it to work for lunch the next day. She’d bake big batches of muffins in the morning and she wouldn’t let me leave the house until I’d had one.” She dipped her head as though she was afraid to look him in the eye. “I didn’t like taking charity, but…”
His heart broke for her. If only he’d known her back then, he would have moved Heaven and Earth to make her life easier. “Honey, everyone needs a little help now and then. Don’t be ashamed of that.”
She smiled, her bottom lip trembling. “That’s what Mrs. Roberts used to say. She would tell me that she got more pleasure out of giving than receiving.” She looked down, twisting the used napkin in her hands. “She used to ask me to go to church with her on Sunday morning, when I wasn’t working. She said it might help me to come to terms with what happened to my family.”
“Did it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still not sure I understand why it happened, or what I’m supposed to learn from it, but it is what it is, right?”
Brushing her hair over her shoulder, he said, “One thing’s for certain: it’s made you the strong, independent woman you are today.” The woman he was falling deeper and deeper in love with.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I had a choice.”
Sensing she needed a little distance now that she’d shared what he hoped was the worst of her heart-wrenching story, he re-claimed his stool, sliding the pizza box toward her. “Eat something. You must be hungry still.”
Looking at the slice of pizza she’d abandoned earlier, she said, “Not really.”
“Then humor me.” He reached for his wine glass, bringing it to his lips. “Are you still in touch with Mrs. Roberts?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I stay with her when I go home to see Tommy.”
“That’s nice.” He reached for a piece of pizza as she took a small bite of hers. “You said no one had ever asked about what happened to your mother and brother, not even her?”
She shook her head. “Mrs. Roberts hasn’t had an easy time of it, either. She believes in living in the present, not the past. Apparently it’s the only way she knows how to survive.” She sighed. “She suggested I speak to the pastor at the church about the accident, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
As he finished his slice of pizza, he said, “Do you mind if I ask about your brother’s condition?”
She reached for a napkin, setting the still half-eaten pizza slice on it as she used another to wipe her hands. “He can’t walk or talk, but I like to believe he understands everything I’m saying to him.” She propped her elbow on the counter, fisting her hand in front of her mouth. “It’s just so damn hard seeing him like that. He was so happy, so vital, before the accident. Just a normal kid, ya know? He had his whole life ahead of him.” She smiled. “He wanted to be a professional baseball player when he grew up.” She picked a piece of pepperoni off the pizza and popped it into her mouth. “Who knows, maybe he would’ve been. He was really good.”
He knew she needed to remember her brother as he was. He understood that. His father had been sick for a long time before his death, and he didn’t want to remember the man his disease had reduced him to. He preferred to think of him as the larger than life man who used to toss the footba
ll around with him and his brother on Sunday afternoons.
He could tell she wasn’t hungry anymore. She was just eating to appease him. “Why don’t we take this into the living room? We can have a glass of wine in front of the fire.”
She laughed. “Thank goodness it’s gas and not wood burning. Imagine the mess that would make.”
He took his wine glass and the bottle and led her into the living room. “Yeah, but there’s nothing quite like a wood-burning fireplace. I have one at my house and my cabin.”
She claimed a seat on the sofa, tucking her legs up under her as she set her glass on the coffee table. “It must be nice to have a place to get away from it all.”
He wanted more than anything to take her to his secluded lakeside cabin and ensure she got the rest and relaxation she deserved, for once. “Do you ever take holidays?” he asked, claiming the seat on the sofa beside her. He set his arm on the back of the sofa as he slipped his hand through the hair at the nape of her neck. It felt so right, being here with her, touching her, comforting her. He knew in that moment he would be content to do this for the rest of his life.
She closed her eyes as he began kneading the muscles at the back of her neck. “Ah, no, never.”
“Turn around,” he said, setting his wine glass on the table. “Let me see what I can do about some of these knots.”
She opened her eyes and laughed. “You don’t have to do that, Shane. Really, I’m fine.”
Leaning in, he couldn’t resist the urge to taste her lips. They were stained with wine, full and ripe, begging to licked and nipped. His eyes traveled from her eyes to her mouth, giving her a nanosecond to stop him from taking this further. When he felt her body sway toward him, he knew neither of them was going back. Gliding his tongue over her lips, he silently pleaded with her to let him in. He knew he couldn’t be satisfied until he had all of her. Her body, her trust, but most importantly, he wanted to claim a place in her heart.