First to Bid: A Bachelor Auction Romance (Unraveled Book 2)

Home > Romance > First to Bid: A Bachelor Auction Romance (Unraveled Book 2) > Page 12
First to Bid: A Bachelor Auction Romance (Unraveled Book 2) Page 12

by Marie Johnston


  With a roar, he arched back behind me, his cock jerking and pulsing. We finished together.

  He sagged over me, still seated inside. “Fuck, that was intense.”

  “Next time,” I panted, “I’m shouting Puddin’ all over the yard.”

  His dick twitched inside of me. “I’m never going to get the roof started if you keep talking like that. But just in case, plan to do it next Saturday.”

  “Deal.”

  He withdrew and covered himself with his shorts before helping me straighten my clothing and stand. I glanced around. Trees surrounded his place, granting us the privacy I didn’t think about until now. With a display of unexpected intimacy, he cupped my chin and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

  “Wanna back the truck out and shut the door? I need to change into my work clothes.”

  As we walked back to the house, hand in hand, I couldn’t stop my grin. He’d tried to forget me for weeks, but within hours, he’d introduced me to his people, brought me to his house, and even trusted me with his expensive ride. If only I could go back to my sixteen-year-old self and tell her not to worry, it’d all be okay. She’d get the guy after all.

  Flynn

  I fought to hold still as Tilly dabbed aloe gel on my shoulders. I hissed and jerked away, then sighed and relaxed back. Each new spot she spread the green goop, I reacted the same way.

  “We underestimated the power of the sun.” She spread the gel around to cover the angry red sunburn.

  “And how the black shingles amplify it. I baked myself.” I’d put on sunblock but worked through the day without stopping to reapply it.

  Squirting more aloe gel into her hand, she covered me with another coat. Her touch was light, and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t want her pressed against me. Having her around was fun, though. She’d also spent a lot of time outside bringing me refreshments and running tools up the ladder.

  The roof was done and it was almost suppertime. I’d worked late last night and then been up and hammering away this morning as soon as we’d had another round—that ended up being two—of sex. I was tempted to bring her to my house, where I could fill my tub with tepid water to soothe my inflamed skin, then have her crawl in with me.

  She tossed the gel aside and sat back on the couch. “You haven’t mentioned going for a run once all weekend.”

  I shrugged and winced. “I don’t need to when I do this work all day.”

  “So being in an office stresses you out? You don’t enjoy it.”

  “Why do you say that?” Was it that obvious? I grabbed her remote to flip the TV on. She had no cable. I scanned through the stations she did get. Nothing.

  “Just how you acted on vacation. On day one, I thought you were going to work the whole week, but by day seven, you never touched your laptop. Then this weekend. You were still in your suit after most offices had been closed for hours.”

  That was my life. “There’s not a damn thing on.” I tossed the remote down. “Do you have any movies?”

  She gave me a droll look and pointed to the box by the TV. “Pick your poison. Michael Keaton Batman, post–Michael Keaton inferior-nineties Batman, Christian Bale Batman—my favorite—or Ben Affleck Batman. Or we can change it up. CGI Green Lantern or Deadpool. How about Marvel? I’ve got Tobey Maguire Spider-Man or Andrew Garfield Spider-Man. Or the new guy. You’d be surprised how quickly newly released DVDs end up at the thrift store. I love it. If you’re not in a superhero mood, I found the whole series of Downton Abbey at a pawnshop. We can learn the fine art of insults from the dowager countess.”

  “Who?” I shook my head. “Never mind, I’ll go with new-guy Spider-Man.”

  I was crawling to the box to dig the movie out when the faint chime of music caught my attention. “Is that your phone?”

  “Hmm?” She pried her gaze off my ass in my carpenter jeans. I was man enough to admit that I relished the way she checked me out in my work clothes.

  The theme song to My Little Pony played from the kitchen. For a moment, I was transported back to childhood, watching cartoons while Lynne belted out the song. My throat constricted. I never remembered the good times anymore.

  “Oh shit.” She ran to grab it and I stuffed away my emotions and kept looking for the movie.

  The movie was in and set up. Tilly’s voice resonated from the kitchen in strangely even, though upbeat tones. Work call?

  I eased back onto the couch, careful of my shoulders. Glancing around her small living room, I mentally tallied all the projects I could do. Repaint the ceiling—water damage had seeped through at some point. The entire place could use a fresh coat of paint, in something other than primer white. Every window could be replaced. The house was over forty years old. The carpet and laminate weren’t original, but they were still outdated. I didn’t have to use the appliances to know they were old and sucked energy.

  If I had a place like this, I’d have weekend projects for a year.

  Tilly rushed out, her face bright with excitement. I smiled just watching her. Her shorts today were a vivid purple with yellow trim and her white shirt didn’t hide her fuchsia bra.

  “I have a new client!” She bounced on the couch, but far enough away she didn’t jostle the fabric against my skin.

  “Awesome.” Anything more than word-of-mouth advertising probably wasn’t in her budget. For new clients to find her, she had to be good. I didn’t have to see her work to know she was amazing at her job. Her caring and enthusiasm were obvious.

  “They want twice a week, even through the school year. I can’t wait to meet the girl.”

  “You’re okay working all day with kids and then tutoring at night?” And she said I put in long days.

  She lifted a shoulder. “It’s fun. I won’t lie, it can be tiring. It sounds clichéd, but teaching is very rewarding.”

  I could make a list of why my work was rewarding and it’d be laughable next to hers. “You’re a good person.”

  She smiled and snuggled into me. I didn’t mind the sting when I put my arm around her.

  “So are you.” She dropped a kiss on my chest.

  I punched start for the movie. “No. I’m not.”

  Trailing her fingers along the ridges of my stomach, she met my gaze. “Why wouldn’t you think so? You do a lot for others. Seriously, you’d have to hurt a kid for me to hate you.” She switched her attention to the TV.

  Mom’s screams rang as clear as the day it had happened. You almost killed your sister again!

  Chapter 12

  Flynn

  I wrapped up a call with a prospective client looking to build a large-format retail store. That was one thing Minneapolis and the surrounding areas didn’t slack in. Winning bids and finishing projects would keep me at the top. Clients loved that I was local, a homegrown kid, and it helped that Abe had built a prime reputation during his years. I was using that momentum to bid for educational facilities. The way the population grew, I’d never run out of work between retail, new builds, and renovation projects for schools and athletic facilities. It’d been a market I’d set my sights on as soon as I gained control.

  A message from my executive assistant popped up on the monitor. Someone brought you lunch? But she’s not leaving.

  Dammit. I jumped up. No one knew I was seeing anyone and my assistant was ferocious about who gained access to my office. My personal assistant was almost as bad. If Matthew ever got ahold of Tilly, she’d get an interrogation just short of violent.

  Tilly had commented that I probably worked through lunch. And yes, if I didn’t have a meet and greet over a meal, it’s not like I packed anything. I hadn’t thought she was serious about bringing me food.

  I rushed to the door and took a second to smooth my clothes and check my hair. It wouldn’t do to let my staff see me lose my cool over Tilly.

  I froze with my hand on the doorknob. It was Monday. Wacky Monday. Oh god, what if she was dressed for it?

  Did it matter?

  No.
But my heart rate didn’t get the message.

  I opened the door in a smooth motion. Tilly, dressed in jean shorts and a plain purple top, stared out the window, commenting on the view. Professional pride spiked. I had been with Abe when he’d picked this location for his new office building, using it as his gateway into corporate construction, proof of his abilities. Our offices took up the top two floors. The four floors below us were filled with financial advisers, lawyers, and various consultants. Many of them I used in my own business if I didn’t staff them already.

  “I mean, look at that sky.” Tilly’s breath fogged the window. My assistant, Mrs. Silverstein, tightened her hand around her pen. “It’s like there’s not even glass here, it’s so clear.”

  “Not anymore,” Mrs. Silverstein said evenly. Tilly took an abrupt step back and clasped her hands behind her back.

  I was caught between irritation at my assistant for making Tilly feel unwelcome and my need to rescue Tilly without making a scene. “What’s that delicious smell?”

  Tilly spun around a wide smile on her face. That grin was fast becoming the reason I looked forward to each day. Her laughter buoyed my spirit after days of catering to people, trying to win their business, and be congenial and efficient enough to have them recommend me to others. The three weeks after vacation had been Groundhog Day, the same routine over and over again. Even if my actions weren’t identical to those of the day before, my goals and outlook for each day were.

  In contrast, the three weeks after tracking Tilly down at the movies had been a blur. I’d delegated more duties to both my personal and executive assistants, receiving inquiring looks that I ignored. Work still went late, but I was out of the office by eight p.m. at the latest. Tilly didn’t tutor past seven, and I had a driving need to taste her every night, even if we fell into bed without having sex.

  Tilly adjusted a narrow headband that shone suspiciously like a small tiara. “I made chicken alfredo, but I left the pasta out of yours. So really, you get chicken and sauce.”

  My stomach rumbled as soon as she finished the description. Tilly picked up her tote bag full of food and shot Mrs. Silverstein a smile. The woman’s lips were pursed, and her gaze darted from the food to Tilly to her tiara.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Halstengard. I didn’t realize you were expecting company.” Ah, so Mrs. Silverstein was more upset that I hadn’t updated her on my plans than how Tilly looked or acted. I hoped.

  I inclined my head. As much as I respected Mrs. Silverstein, she could be overbearing. She was no-nonsense, and after having raised five boys, she didn’t put up with much bullshit, even from me. All traits I normally appreciated and relied upon. But when it came to my personal life, I…couldn’t figure out why I was so defensive about Tilly.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Silverstein.” I gave Tilly a reassuring smile. “Come on in, Tilly.” I placed a hand on the small of her back and led her in.

  “Ohmigosh. I almost got stopped at the front door because they thought I was delivering the pizzas they’d ordered. Then her. I thought she was going to haul me out by force. I was like, seriously, just ask him if I can visit.”

  I guided her to my conference table. She set the bag down and started setting out the stuff. Her mouth was set in a line and hurt glimmered in her eyes.

  “Did she insult you?” I asked sharply.

  “No. It’s nothing. Just not what I expected when I wanted to bring you lunch.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot you even mentioned it, or I would’ve informed Mrs. Silverstein.”

  “No problem.” Tilly dished out our food. She slapped chicken and peas on my plate, while hers steamed with fresh pasta mixed with grilled chicken.

  I wolfed down my food, hungrier than expected, unable to keep my eyes from coveting her pasta. She munched on hers, not eating with her normal gusto.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She pushed her plate away, her eyes downcast. “She didn’t know who I was.”

  “I don’t talk about my personal life with my staff.” I hadn’t had much of a personal life before summer started.

  “Your assistant—what’s his name?”

  “Matthew.”

  “Yeah, Matthew. He was leaving for lunch and Mrs. Silverstein asked him if you’d ever mentioned me.” She folded her hands in her lap, looking more solemn than I’d ever seen. “What are we?”

  “We’re…us.” My food turned to lead in my gut. Hot, savory food that she’d cooked just for me. Then brought here and gotten deeply insulted for the trouble.

  Her gray gaze lifted to mine. “What is ‘us’? Are you still ashamed of me?”

  I failed her. I failed her hard. All I had to do was mention to either Matthew or Mrs. Silverstein that I was dating someone and they wouldn’t have given Tilly such a hard time. I got down on my knees and crept toward her. She didn’t move, but she didn’t reach for me.

  “Tilly, before you, I had no one to talk about. I made sure I had no one to talk about. My focus has been on this company and keeping it thriving. This relationship is new territory for me.”

  “You still didn’t answer.” She stroked my cheek, her look sober. “Are you ashamed of me?”

  I recalled my first thought after she’d arrived. Wacky Monday. It was a reflex, an echo of me before I was the lucky bastard that got to know her. “Of course not. I’m a private man.”

  “I don’t want to be your Crazy J again.” Her hand trembled. This was upsetting her.

  I wasn’t ashamed of her; I was ashamed of myself for not being strong enough, thoughtful enough, to keep her from feeling this way. I dragged her to the edge of her chair and closer to me. “Hey. It turns out my Crazy J was a pretty phenomenal girl and I was an ignorant idiot.”

  She softened under my touch. “Are you sure this was okay?”

  “Yes.” I kissed her forehead, then her cheek. “I’ll check my schedule and you can bring me lunch whenever I don’t have a meeting.” I made my way to her lips.

  She kissed me back and I couldn’t keep myself from deepening the kiss. I swept my tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opened for me. Yes. Blood raged through my veins, careening to my groin.

  I wanted her naked, and I wanted her now.

  “Flynn,” she murmured. “We can’t do this in your office.”

  “I’m the boss.” I tugged at her waistband.

  She looked around. My windows filled an entire wall on two sides and were reflective enough that no one could see in.

  While she was deciding, I freed my shaft and dug out protection—so I was ready if she said yes. For good measure, I flung my tie over my shoulder.

  She turned her bright gaze on me. That was what I wanted to see. Excitement and desire instead of shame.

  “You’re so hot,” she growled and yanked me toward her by the shirt.

  I couldn’t tell her, or anyone else in words, what she meant to me, but I proceeded to show her while she opened me up to the possibilities of office sex.

  Tilly

  I veered around my room. “Pants. Pants. Pants.” Hanging with Flynn all weekend had left me low on laundry, but I hadn’t wanted to miss one second of the positions we’d come up with in his hot tub.

  Coming back to my house after a weekend at his bachelor pad was like zooming out 200 percent. My rental had never seemed small before. When I showered at Flynn’s, it was certainly noticeable when I forgot to get a towel ready. In my place, all I had to do was lean out and grab it off the rack. I could also courtesy flush the toilet from anywhere in the bathroom. At Flynn’s place, his toilet had its own freaking room.

  It was fun for a weekend. Living the high life. With Flynn.

  I dug through my dirty laundry basket. My khaki slacks were rumpled, but they’d smooth out in this humidity. I gave them a sniff.

  Meh, good enough. Only me and Charlie had to suffer through them for an hour. And maybe they’d repel his dad.

  I sped to the Woods’ place and parked in my usual spot. Rush
ing to the door, I hummed to myself. A tendril of anxiety crept through the warm sun and cool breeze, unsettling the euphoria from my weekend.

  I knocked on the door.

  And waited.

  And waited. Any longer and I’d be officially late. Not good in Mrs. Woods’s eyes, who wouldn’t listen to the “no one answered the door for me” excuse.

  Berta finally opened. Her expression was the most serious I had ever seen and she wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  “Berta? What’s wrong?” I was about to step forward and embrace the woman. Sadness emanated from her so strongly, it was like the sun had dimmed a few thousand watts.

  Berta shook her head. Mr. Woods appeared behind the woman, his face stern, his suit buttoned, and not a hair out of place.

  “Tilly. You won’t be needed today.”

  Berta let out a strangled cry and shoved away from us. I peered after her, then cast a questioning look at Mr. Woods.

  “Did something happen? Is Charlie okay?”

  He rose another inch as if lording over me. “You of all people should know that answer.” I cocked my head, opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but he talked over me. “Your services won’t be needed here any longer. You’re fired, Miss Johnson.”

  “What? Why?”

  The door slammed in my face. I jumped back lest it hit my nose.

  Fired?

  The first feeling that emerged beyond confusion was relief. No more Mrs. Woods.

  Then shame flooded me. No more Charlie. I wasn’t arrogant enough to think that I was the best one to help him, but I was good, dammit. Awesome at my job. I had a connection with the boy, a trust we’d built.

  No more chats with Berta. But no more dodging Mr. Woods’s advances. And no more steady client.

  I sighed and strode back to my car. The mother who’d called to hire me last week would help fill the pay gap. Still, I hated to lose the account.

  All businesses had setbacks, and if I was going to lose someone, the Woods were a good choice. They had found me through word of mouth from another client, so as long as I hadn’t done anything to get blacklisted, I was good.

 

‹ Prev