“I’ll get dressed and be ready in twenty minutes. Sorry.” She bent over the bed to tug the covers in place.
When she was about to turn, awareness slapped me across the face. She was going to constrain that hair in a strict braid and dress in those jeans that could just as well be body armor.
I couldn’t have that. “I was thinking we could stay in, go over some numbers. Find a window contractor and talk about security for Flatlanders.”
She straightened and faced me, the dots of her nipples still poking through her top. Another minute and I’d sport a raging erection that would be impossible to hide. “Can’t you do that when I’m working?”
Yes. “I haven’t had a day off in a while.”
Guilt flashed across her face. “You can drop me off. Or I can call for a ride.” She wrinkled her nose.
There were no cabs in Bourbon Canyon. “I could call Seb. He also does Uber— No, wait. He teaches swim lessons on the weekend. Don’t worry about it.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. When was the last time she’d just rested and hung out? “I hate to burn a whole day.”
“We’ll still be working. Besides, I’ve got burritos in the oven.” She inhaled like she was going to argue. “They’re Mama’s, and I’d like to see if you let out that sexy little moan when you taste them.”
Her mouth dropped open and I deliberately let my gaze fall to her chest. Then I turned away. I was playing with fire around this woman. If I kept going, out of everyone in town, only I would know the real reason she fit her nickname. Madison Townsend was going to drive me out of my mind with desire.
Madison
I had told Teller I’d be ready in twenty minutes, but since he’d said he was cooking something, I hadn’t been able to resist the shower. I stood under the strongest stream that’d hit my skin in... ever.
Blisteringly hot water cascaded over me. At the nursing home, the locker room had an old showerhead and it took five minutes to get hot water. I hadn’t known what I’d been missing. A shower was a shower, but not all showerheads were made alike. Water beat at my skin, massaging out knots that had been there for years.
I let out a long moan. My eyes flew open. Could he hear?
His comment about my sexy moan should’ve been embarrassing, but when he’d followed it up by staring at my breasts, embarrassment had been the last thing I’d felt. This time, he hadn’t been surprised by me walking out in my bra and underwear like before, but the heat in his eyes had been the same.
Teller liked what he saw. And I liked that he liked it.
I shook my head, sending water droplets flying. I was being absurd. It was the proximity. That guy had his choice of women, and it would not be me. How many ladies had enjoyed this shower?
A depressing thought filtered through. They’d probably enjoyed the luxury ofhisshower—and him.
I was not made for jealousy and I didn’t have time for it. I had to finish washing up and get to work. The bottle of three-in-one made me smile until I put a dab on my palm and the woodsy, citrusy scent of Teller rose up in the steam around me.
When I was done, I towel-dried my hair. I couldn’t find a hair dryer and there was no Betty Sue down the hall to let me borrow hers like at the home. I squeezed as much water as I could out of it and got dressed in jeans and an old maroon University of Montana shirt. I left the flannel shirt I used for working in the bar on the dresser.
At the bottom of the stairs, I could see Teller’s head tipped back on the couch. His feet were kicked out in front of him. I circled around and pressed my fingers against my mouth. The space in my chest expanded, filling with affection.
He’d fallen asleep. His boots were off and set by the corner of the couch. His feet, in pristine white socks, were crossed at the ankles. I took the opportunity to look my fill.
The way his mouth puffed open with each exhale was adorable. His arms were crossed at his chest and even in slumber his biceps were big. The narrow waist to thick thighs was apparently a thing for me. Like a perfect seat.
I pivoted before I had any more inappropriate thoughts about a sleeping man. The savory smell of the burritos curled around my nose and my stomach clenched. I concentrated on hunger versus my arousal and went to the kitchen. The oven timer was about to hit zero. I shut it and the oven off. Digging around in the drawers, I found a silicone oven mitt.
With the delicious-smelling burritos cooling on the counter, I went back to the living room. I stood away from Teller as if he’d wake up and bite me—and I’d like it.
“Teller.” I twisted my fingers together. I didn’t want to get closer. What I really wanted to do was climb onto his lap and kiss him awake. “Teller,” I said a little louder.
His brow scrunched. I’d never associated Teller with being cute or adorable. He was manly. Larger than life. Brooding at times, usually toward me. That is, until he’d started working for me. Right now though, he was downright cuddly. The yearning to climb onto the couch next to him and fit myself to his side was strong.
“Teller,” I snapped. I couldn’t stand here and lust after things that were never meant for me.
He turned his head to the side like he was burrowing farther into the cushions. How tired was he?
The guy had been working three jobs. I should let him sleep, but it also felt wrong to enjoy his mom’s food when he’d already done manual labor this morning.
