“Yep. But you might wanna hurry and get those up before she changes her mind again. There’s no tellin’ with that one.”
“I’m on it, boss.” He winked at her before strolling down the hallway toward the bedroom, mindful of the load he carried as he went.
Rory’d never been one to ogle men. Sean hadn’t ever been much to look at, and she’d just never before felt the need. But watching Nash walk away, his tight ass cupped perfectly in those well-worn jeans, his shoulders flexing even through the cotton of his T-shirt as he hefted the wood… Sweet fancy Moses. She leaned backward just to be able to catch every last glimpse of him she could until he disappeared through the doorway at the end of the hall.
As soon as he was out of sight, she shook her head and twisted back to focus on the tile samples in front of her. If they were going to keep on track with their future bookings—yes,plural—then she needed to stay on task and stop lusting after her… Her…what? Friend with benefits? Fuck buddy? She sort of hated both of those terms, especially in relation to her and Nash. They belittled what they’d been doing together. At least for her…
It’d come to be about so much more than sex. He’d managed to pull her out of her shell, had introduced her to so many other facets of herself. Ones she hadn’t even known were there. Ones she’d been too scared or nervous or embarrassed to explore—both sexually and personally.
Nash strolled out of the bedroom, his eyes clear as he watched her, as if the whole sexually charged incident from minutes ago had never happened. “What’s her current stance on adding the beams to the living room?”
Rory nodded once. “Still in favor. Though I suggest you move fast with that too.”
He grinned. “I’ll bring ’em tomorrow and make sure a couple guys can come help me with ’em. Hopefully she won’t change her mind in the next twelve hours.”
“Even though she’s stayin’ at her sister’s and not even supposed to be over here, you never know with her.”
Nash pulled his phone from his back pocket to glance at the time. Could’ve been three in the afternoon or eight at night—didn’t matter to Rory. Ava and Ella were at Sean’s tonight, and that meant an empty house for her.
Some days, it didn’t bother her, but others, all that quiet pressed down on her so hard she could scarcely breathe. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to not lying with her girls before bed and talking about their days. Not being able to tuck them in and kiss their foreheads every night. The loss made her chest ache.
When her empty house was too much to bear, she just…didn’t go home. She worked late or she went to one of her sisters’ places or she popped into The Willow Tree under the guise of looking for Will or chatting with Mac if she was working.
“You about done here?” Nash asked.
Rory shrugged, running her fingers over one of the tiles. “I’ll probably stick around for a bit so I can get this narrowed down for her. Better for everyone involved if I only give her two to choose from.”
He laughed under his breath, tucked his phone into his pocket, and folded his arms over his chest. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I—what?”
“Food, princess. Have you eaten today?”
She furrowed her brow, thought about it, and…nope, she sure hadn’t. She’d forgotten completely, which sometimes tended to happen when she got into the groove. “I’m fine.”
“Course you are. You’re Rory Haven. You’re always fine.” He stepped closer…close enough that her nipples perked up at his proximity. “But you can’t run forever on empty. Why don’t you put down the tiles for a while and come with me to The Willow Tree?”
Rory opened and closed her mouth several times, never quite able to produce actual words. Was he asking her out on a date? She had no earthly idea. It’d been nearly fifteen years since she’d been asked out on one, and she was woefully out of touch. But was that even what this was? Or was it just a friendly invitation between two coworkers—who happened to know what the other looked like naked—to grab a bite to eat?
“Ah, got it,” Nash said before she had a chance to respond.
“Nash, I didn’t—”
He waved her concerns away with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was just supper, Rory, but I get it. Nothing public.”
“But that’s—” She clamped her mouth shut to keep the denial from spilling out because, yeah, that was exactly what they should be doing.
He stepped even closer until their bodies were flush, rested his hand so low on her back, his fingertips grazed her bottom, and brought his lips to rest against her ear. “Don’t worry, princess. I have no plans to stop fucking you, even if it’s only in secret.” He turned his head, his lips just a whisper along her neck, and then he walked out the front door.
Rory had to reach back to brace herself on the counter just to keep from collapsing into a puddle on the floor. Nash had absolutely no problem getting her blood flowing or making her crave him every minute of the day.
But he was right—what they had needed to be kept a secret. If she and Nash walked into the only bar in Havenbrook, even to do something as innocent as share a meal, she had no doubt what’d come next—more talk, more whispers, more barely concealed finger-pointing. The townspeople had only just begun to move on from gossiping about her divorce every chance they got.
And she had no intention of being thrust back into the limelight again.
Nash slidonto a barstool at The Willow Tree, pretending like his pride or his ego—or both—weren’t just a bit wounded. Why the hell had he thought it’d be a good idea to ask Rory out in the first place? He didn’t do local, and he sure as hell didn’t do girlfriends, so where did he get off asking her out on a date like it was no big deal? They were sleeping together, and that was it. It was good for her, it was fucking fantastic for him, and he needed to let that be enough.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Drew flicked a coaster his way. “You here for beer or some grub too? Burgers are two for one tonight.”
