Nailed

by Tara Wyatt

  Adam lined up another nail and drove it into the oak, fastening the board in place. “Yeah, well. That was before I knew her.”

  Jared huffed out a breath and nodded. “I get it. She’s cute. You got a thing for the drag—” He cut himself off when Adam shot daggers at him with his eyes. “For Charlie.”

  Adam shrugged, sinking another nail. “Maybe, yeah.”

  “I told you about how she almost took my nuts off, right?”

  “You did. And if I recall, I said I didn’t blame her.” Slam, another nail in. “Stand by what I said.”

  “Hey, they’re your nuts. You want ‘em shredded off, I guess that’s your prerogative.”

  Adam smiled as he lined up another nail. He couldn’t deny that the idea of Charlie’s hands on his balls was an appealing one. “I like her. She brings me lemonade and makes fun of my tattoos.”

  Jared blinked slowly before giving his head a shake. “Whatever, man. They’re your boys.” And with that, he walked back toward his house, waving over his shoulder. Adam scooped up more nails and dropped them into his tool belt just as the back door of Charlie’s house swung open. She stepped out, a basket of laundry propped against her hip. He watched her over his shoulder as she crossed to the small clothes line in the far corner of her yard. She wore a skintight red-and-white striped tank top and a tiny pair of denim shorts, her hair up in a ponytail, as usual.

  Freckles on full display.

  Giving his head a small shake, he turned his attention back to the fence, lining up another nail.

  “Am I making it hard?” she called, and he smashed the hammer into his thumb.

  “Fuck! Motherfucking shit-ass fucker!” He dropped the hammer and pulled his hand against his chest, his thumb throbbing as pain shot through his hand and up his arm.

  Charlie dropped the basket of laundry and came running over, one hand pressed to her mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his arm and pulled his hand away from his chest. “Let me see.” She cradled his hand in hers, peering down at his thumb. He’d split the skin over his knuckle, and a stream of blood trickled from the wound. “Shit. Come inside. I have a first aid kit.” She grabbed his good hand, the one he hadn’t clumsily smashed a hammer into at her probably unintended innuendo.

  His pulse beat thickly, thrumming in his temples, his chest, his injured hand. He pulled air into his lungs and pushed it back out again through his nose, letting her lead him into the kitchen. She let go of his hand as they entered the house, and he was surprised at the disappointment he felt.

  She turned the faucet on, streaming cold water into the sink. “Wash it off, and I’ll go find the first aid kit.”

  Doing as he was told, he stuck his throbbing, bloody thumb under the water, watching as the blood swirled away down the drain. She was back within moments, a beat-up white tin clutched in her hands. She hopped up on the counter beside the sink and turned the faucet off. Taking his hand, she patted it dry with a paper towel before digging into the dented tin.

  “That thing looks ancient. Anything you’ve got in there must be expired.”

  She pulled a tube of antibiotic ointment out. “Are you worried this is gonna sting?”

  “I know it’s not going to sting. I just don’t want my thumb to fall off when it gets infected from using Korean War-era Neosporin.”

  “Baby,” she said, glancing up at him as she dabbed the ointment on his thumb.

  He wanted to make another smart-assed comment, but he was too focused on the feel of her fingers on him to do anything but breathe.

  She bit her lip as she applied a butterfly bandage over the cut and then slipped down off the counter. Yanking open the freezer, she rummaged around inside before tossing him a small bag of frozen vegetables. “Do you want some Advil?” she asked, turning and leaning against the counter beside the fridge, studying him as he arranged the cold bag around his throbbing thumb.

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the…” He peered down at the bag. “Turnips.”

  “Thanks. I don’t like turnips, so you can keep that.” She hopped back up on the counter beside him again, and something hot beat through his body, chasing away the pain in his hand. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. This may come as a surprise to you, but that’s not the first time I’ve hit myself with a hammer. Probably won’t be the last, either.”

  She nodded, her eyes on his hands. Silence hung between them as late afternoon sunshine streamed in through the window.

  “What did you mean when you asked me if you were making it hard?” he asked, inching closer.

  She waved a hand through the air. One of the straps of her tank top slipped down, and his eyes traced the line of her collarbone and shoulder. “Oh. Uh, I just hoped I wasn’t distracting you. I know how annoyed I get when I’m working and I get interrupted.”

  “Oh. Yeah. No. It’s fine. It’s your backyard, Charlie.”

  She looked down for a second and nodded, not saying anything.

  He readjusted the bag and glanced around the kitchen, taking in the harvest gold appliances, the dated cabinets and the worn linoleum. “So, when you bought this place, were you planning to fix it up?”

  She inched a bit closer to him, and the light in her eyes changed, a sadness creeping in. “Um, no. This is my grandfather’s house. He moved to Florida last fall and let me have it. I needed a place to go.”

  He licked his lips and shifted against the counter. “You know, I stayed with Jared for a few months last spring,” he said, tipping his head toward Jared’s house. “Guess we just missed each other.”

  “Seems to happen with us.” She flashed him a tiny smile.

  “How come you needed a place to go?” He erased another inch between them, close enough now to feel the warmth coming off her skin. His heart slammed into his ribs, and he licked his lips.

  She stared at his mouth before answering. “I’d been living with someone, and it didn’t work out.” She ducked her head and he had the feeling there was more to the story than she was letting on.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled sadly, the corners of her mouth barely turning up as her lips pressed together. “Thanks.” She gestured around her, her hand sweeping through the air and encompassing the clutter throughout the house. “I haven’t gone through his stuff yet. He said I could put whatever I wanted into storage. I only added my crap to the mess. I didn’t really sort through a lot of it after the break up. I guess I just haven’t felt ready.”

  “I get that. But sometimes…” He shrugged and leaned a bit closer. “Sometimes you’ll never be ready for something. You just have to do it. Take that leap and hope a net will appear.” He wasn’t entirely sure that he was still talking about her clutter.

  She looked up and met his gaze, and the seconds stretched out like something warm and sticky, slow and sweet. She rubbed the palms of her hands over her denim shorts, a sweep of her hands up and down her thighs. Swallowing, she nodded. “I should get back to work.” She bit her lip, her hands still rubbing over her thighs, and something kicked in his gut, making him hyperaware of his own body. Each breath in and out. Each throb of his heart in his chest. Her eyes trailed down his body, and heat seared through him.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, he tossed the bag of vegetables in the sink and moved in front of her. He pressed his hands against the counter on either side of her, caging her in. “Thank you for the first aid,” he said, and her eyebrows rose, as though his words surprised her. He knew he should probably back off, but he couldn’t. Not with her so close, her warm, sweet scent invading his nostrils and humming through him like a chorus of cicadas.

  “You’re…uh…you’re welcome,” she said, swallowing thickly as her eyes skated up and down his body again. Her gaze slid back to his and she sucked in a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, almost touching his. “You…you have a weird look on your face. What are you thinking about?” Her voice was a husky whisper, and her eyes dropped down to his mou
th again.

  “This,” he said and dipped his head. She sucked in a sharp breath as his lips brushed hers, gentle and slow. He pulled back after a second, trying to gauge her reaction. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers with a soft moan, and this time there was nothing gentle or slow about the kiss. He closed his mouth over hers, and she opened for him with a quiet whimper. Her tongue slid against his, and he wound his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He kissed her hungrily, his hands skimming from her waist and up her back. Heat flared across his skin as she nipped at his bottom lip, soothing the bite with her tongue.

  He groaned against her mouth and caressed her tongue with his, exploring the sweetness of her mouth. He’d kissed other women since his divorce, but none of those kisses had felt like this one, hot and hungry and right. He loosened her ponytail and tangled his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back and deepening the kiss, wanting more. Needing more of her. Of Charlie, and everything she had to offer. Of everything she’d let him have.

  Her hands slid down his back and then up his arms, her fingers curling into his biceps as he kissed her slow and deep. Electricity shot down his spine, heat pulsing and flaring through him as his quickly-hardening cock pressed against the fly of his jeans.

  She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer as she wound her arms around his shoulders.

  He knew he had to break the kiss because he was dangerously close to hauling her off the counter and getting her naked as fast as he could. And as much as he wanted that, he knew that they should probably stop. Baby steps.

  After allowing himself the luxury of a few more seconds of Charlie’s mouth on his, he pulled away, cupping her face and leaning his forehead against hers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bandage on his thumb and realized he’d completely forgotten about the dull throbbing in his hand, too preoccupied with the much more pressing throbbing elsewhere.

  She looked up at him through her lashes, meeting his eyes. “You’re not forgiven,” she said, her voice a little husky.

  “Give me the chance to earn it?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth. She shivered, and he groaned, loving that he’d elicited that response from her.

  “May…maybe,” she whispered, her mouth moving against his.

  “That’s all I ask.” He planted a quick, hard kiss on her lips and pulled away, smiling when she leaned forward, her mouth chasing his. He kissed her once more, a sweeter, lingering kiss, and then turned and headed back to the backyard.

  Operation Second Chance was officially in full effect. He just hoped he knew what he was doing.

  Chapter 5

  Rain pattered softly and steadily against Charlie’s living room window, and she curled her legs up under herself on the couch, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. Even though it was almost noon, the sky was dark with purple and gray clouds. Lightning flickered across the sky, lighting up the underbellies of the clouds, and thunder rumbled in the distance as cooler air rolled in, breaking the stifling heat of the past week. She took a sip of her coffee and watched the raindrops race each other down the window pane, loving the cozy feel of being curled up inside during the storm.

  Given the weather, Charlie assumed Adam and his crew weren’t going to show today. There wasn’t much they’d be able to do in the pouring rain. She couldn’t figure out if she was disappointed or relieved that she wouldn’t be seeing him today.

  God, Adam.

  That kiss.

  She’d lain awake last night, unable to sleep because of that kiss. She’d stared blankly at her computer screen for over an hour, unable to concentrate on work because of that kiss. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like that. Hell, maybe she’d never been kissed quite like that. He’d been hungry for her, like he hadn’t been able to get close enough. Her entire body had roared to life the second his lips had grazed hers, fire curling through her veins and a warm throb settling between her thighs. She’d wanted more, hadn’t wanted it to be over when he’d pulled away.

  Over and over again, she’d replayed it, savoring every second of the memory. His mouth on hers, his tongue stroking into her mouth. The rasp of his beard against her skin. Those big hands on her, pulling her against him.

  If he could disrupt her world like that with only a kiss, letting anything else happen between them was probably a huge, gigantic, elephant-sized mistake.

  The simple truth was that she liked him. She didn’t want to like him, didn’t want to want him the way she did, but there it was, all the same. Adam—with his good looks, sense of humor, smart-assed charm and ability to shut her brain down with just a kiss—scared her. Big time. Because liking led to loving, and loving led to losing, and she couldn’t do that again. She wouldn’t.

  Her doorbell rang, a dull, buzzing sound. It was halfway broken, and she made a mental note to put it on her ever-growing list of things she needed to fix. Things she had neither the expertise nor the money to tackle right now.

  Setting her coffee down on the table beside the couch, she shuffled through the hallway and opened the door.

  Adam stood on the front porch, his gray T-shirt speckled with rain, an iPad clutched in one hand. “Oh, good. You’re home.” He smiled, his entire face lighting up, and her stomach flipped over on itself in response. “I wanted to show you the plans for your deck.” He hefted the iPad in his hand, his long, thick fingers curled over the edge. Her eyes, no longer under her control, trailed from his hand and up his arm, skimming over his biceps and broad shoulders. From there, they journeyed down his chest and over his flat, hard stomach. “Uh, Charlie? You okay? Is this a bad time?” he asked, and her eyes flew back up to his. He smirked at her, one eyebrow cocked.

  “No, sorry. Just thinking about…baseball. You know. Come in. You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He followed her into the house, closing the door behind him.

  She poured him a cup of coffee and found him in the living room, sitting in her discarded seat on the couch. Setting his mug down beside her own, she sank down onto the couch beside him as he flipped the cover off the iPad. He tapped on a file, and something in Charlie’s chest softened at what he’d named it.

  “Charlie’s apology deck?” she asked, laying a hand on his forearm.

  He stilled when she touched him. After a second, he shrugged and met her eyes. “Yeah. I wanna make it up to you. What I did. I figured maybe this could be a way.”

  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Probably because she had no freaking clue what to say.

  Goddamn him for being so likable. For making her like him.

  Adam studied her for a moment before scooting a little closer on the couch. “Let me show you.” He held the iPad out to her, waving it back and forth slightly when she didn’t take it right away. She looked up from the tablet to Adam, his blue eyes slamming into her and stealing her breath. Slowly, awareness of what it meant snapping through her, she reached out and took the tablet, accepting it from him.

  He leaned toward her, bringing the scent of rain, clean laundry and warm skin with him, and his arm brushed hers as he tapped the iPad. Three-dimensional plans filled the screen. “I thought it’d be cool to do two levels. So right off your kitchen, there’s an area with space for a grill and a patio set. Then a step goes down to ground level with a separate seating area. I’ll do a pergola above this area so you can have some shade. You could also attach a hammock to the posts if you wanted. Or put outdoor furniture under it. I’ll use cedar for the decking and trim it out in tigerwood, so the fascia, rails and banisters will be darker than the rest of it, giving it a modern feel.”

  She rubbed her fingertips against her palm, curling her hand away from the iPad and the beautiful rendering on the screen. “You designed all of this?”

  He nodded, smiling with one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. For you.”

  She swallowed around the lump pressing against her throat, an ache taking root in
her chest, but it was a good ache. For several seconds, she stared at the plans, not trusting herself to speak.

  Finally, Adam spoke. “It’s okay if you don’t like it, Charlie.”

  She looked up and met his eyes. “No, I do. I really, really do.”

  He frowned. “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I just… You designed this. For me.” She rubbed her hand over her chest, right where that ache was.

  “Yeah. I did.” His gorgeous blue eyes held hers, and he moved a bit closer. “I did it for you.” So, so gently it almost killed her, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheekbone. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you again.”

  The air snapped and crackled between them, and she set the iPad aside. “I want that, too.” She barely got the last word out before his mouth was on hers, kissing her softly and slowly, his hands cupping her face. She melted into him almost instantly, returning the kiss. With a low growl, he pulled her into his lap, settling her so she was straddling him. Her heart beat furiously in her chest as Adam’s big hands slid up her back and tangled in her hair. He deepened the kiss, claiming her mouth with his, his tongue sliding against hers, and she moved her hips against him, unable to help herself. He groaned, and the kiss became more urgent, lips and tongues melding together hungrily.

  As thunder rumbled around them, she eased back a bit and pulled her T-shirt over her head. “This doesn’t mean I like you, or that we’re dating, or anything like that.” She lost her train of thought when Adam unhooked her bra and tugged it down off her shoulders, his palms rough against her tight nipples. He buried his face in her neck, his tongue flicking over her skin as he cupped her breasts, his thumbs tracing over her nipples in a circle. They tightened to the point of aching, and she moved her hips again, unable to hold still under the onslaught of sensation. She shuddered as the heat of his mouth on her bare skin rippled through her.

  “I think you like me at least a little bit,” he said, his voice low and rough.