“Well, of course not, but now you won’t have to. Isn’t that lovely?”
Before Rory could respond, her youngest, Ella, dashed out from the house, her dark hair flying out behind her through the hole in her baseball cap. “Mimi! Come on, come on, let’s go! They said we’d be catchin’ frogs today, and I don’t wanna missanyof it!”
Caroline laughed, her attention on her youngest granddaughter. “Well, all right, then. We better get goin’. Where’s your sister?”
“Throwin’ a fit in her bedroom.” Ella shrugged, as if she couldn’t be bothered with her older sister’s tantrums.
Caroline looked at Rory, eyebrow raised in question. “Is that right?”
Rory slid her eyes to Nash before returning them to her momma. “Ten goin’ on sixteen, that one. She’s upset because I told her she couldn’t go to Kelsey’s today instead of camp.”
Caroline hummed, her gaze studying Rory, something passing between them Nash couldn’t hope to understand. “I see. Well, let’s find out if she gives Mimi any sass.” She stepped through the front door and called out for Ava.
“Gimme a hug, baby,” Rory said to Ella. She wrapped her daughter in a tight squeeze, then pressed a kiss on her cheek—which Ella immediately wiped off with the back of her hand. “You sure you wanna wear that hat today? I could French-braid your hair instead?”
“No thanks,” Ella said. “The hat’ll keep all the frog slime outta my hair. Bye, Momma! Bye, Nash!” With a quick wave in his direction, she dashed down the front steps and into the back seat of Caroline’s car, practically vibrating with excitement.
Ava, on the other hand, nearly slunk out of the house, her grandmother’s hands on her shoulders seeming to be the only thing pushing her forward.
“Give your momma a hug and let’s go,” Caroline said. “We don’t wanna be late.”
After a tense goodbye between Rory and Ava, Caroline waved out the car window as she turned around and drove down the dirt path.
Rory stood against the railing, staring off at the dust just settling back on the road. All the while, Nash stared at her. The morning sun glinted off her hair, which she had piled on top of her head in some kind of knot again. The rays turned the dark-brown strands into burnished gold. She wore sneakers, a tank top, and a pair of way-too-small-for-his-sanity shorts, showcasing the thick thighs and toned calves of her petite legs.
This was quite possibly the dumbest idea he’d ever had. Entering into a partnership with the woman who’d been a near constant in his fantasies for the past, oh, ten years? Nothing could possibly go wrong there.
Too bad he didn’t have much of a choice. If he wanted to keep King Construction in the family, he needed to do something. And that meant thinking outside the box in order to make it the premier building company in the nearby area—hell, from here to Jackson. He didn’t just want to dominate Havenbrook, but he wanted to give Bozeman Builders a run for their money. And in his gut, he knew pairing his builds and remodels with Rory’s designs was doing exactly that.
Thankfully, he knew better than to shit where he ate. He just had to keep reminding himself of it.
“Rough mornin’?” he finally asked.
She huffed out a not-quite laugh but didn’t answer like he thought she would. Didn’t tell him off for eavesdropping—never mind that it hadn’t been his intention.
As much as Ball-busting Rory grated on his last nerve, he found that he…missed all that sass. He didn’t want Docile Rory. That wasn’t her, and something tugged in his gut when he took in her forlorn expression.
So he said exactly what he needed to to rile her up. “You’re certainly dressed the part, but that’s about it. You want me to bring you a glass of sweet tea so you can continue starin’ off in the distance while I get some actual work done? We’ve got a list of clients chompin’ at the bit for us to start, so at least one of us needs to get to it.”
She shot him a glare, her pink lips pursing. Shit, maybe poking her hadn’t been a good idea, after all. Fiery Rory got his dick hard, no question about it.
“There’ll be no sweet tea, so I hope you weren’t expectin’ any.” She spun around and stormed into the house.
He caught the screen door just before it slammed closed behind her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”
“And I won’t be answering the door in heels and pearls because I’m findin’ I don’t feel particularly hostessy with you.”
He followed her straight into the kitchen and waited until she glanced back at him before he allowed his eyes to sweep over every inch of her body. From her sun-kissed shoulders only broken up by the thin straps of her tank top, to the downright indecent dip of her waist, to her shapely legs he wanted wrapped around his head while he buried his tongue inside her.
Yeah, this was definitely the dumbest fucking idea he’d ever had.
When he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers, her cheeks had gone pink, and her lips parted with each exhale.
“I don’t mind a bit,” he said, his voice thick with want he was getting damn tired of hiding. “Casual looks good on you, princess.”
From the momentRory had said yes via text last night, she’d questioned her sanity. What was she thinking, inviting a man like Nash King into her home—into herlife—more than was absolutely necessary? She wasn’t thinking, and that was the problem.
The trouble was, she couldn’t discuss her concerns with…anyone. It might’ve been something she confided in her best friend about, but her and Sarah Beth’s sharing days were over. As long as you didn’t count Rory’s ex-husband in the mix.
