“Damn, I wanted to see her. But I’m glad we’re alone,” he says, stepping further inside and shutting the door behind him.
Grinding my teeth, I walk away from him. “I didn’t invite you in.”
“Why are you being like this?”
“Like what?”
“So…I don’t know…hard.”
“What do you want me to say, Linc? Life made me this way. There, is that what you came here for?”
“No, I came here to look at your roof.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You called Greg for a quote.”
“You’re working for Bradley Construction again?”
Linc worked for him all throughout high school, and as I recall they did stay in touch over the years. But I never would have expected him to go back to work there.
It’s not like he needs the money.
“Not really. Just picking up a few odd jobs while I’m here.”
While he’s here? Guess that means he’ll be leaving again once Gwynn recovers. The thought depresses me. Even though I’m fighting him at every turn, I can’t deny that I’m happy he’s here. I’ve missed him terribly. I just didn’t realize how much until he showed back up.
“Must be quite a change from touring on the road.” Linc not only became a country music star but he also set the bar for other artists in the industry as well, with his bluesy sound. Some say it isn’t even country. But it doesn’t really matter what the critics think. He sells out every arena. He’s sold millions of albums, won multiple awards, and has traveled all over the world.
He became everything I knew he would be and so much more. Linc Matthews can do whatever the hell he wants.
His familiar eyes meet mine, deliberately holding them longer than necessary. “You know I could never sit still for long.”
I clear my throat, uncomfortable with his penetrating gaze and the truth behind his words.
“Well then, follow me,” I say, my voice a weak version of itself. Heat creeps up my neck as I walk him through the kitchen and out the back door.
I have a ladder propped against the back of the house from when my father climbed up to take a look. Linc stands close to me. Our arms barely graze one another, but you would have thought his hands were all over me.
It’s been a long time since a man has touched me intimately.
“Dad says there’s no damage to the front, just the back.” I try to maintain control of my voice but it’s tough. I’m drunk off his scent and further weakened by the longing and desire flickering in his eyes.
Folding my arms across my chest, I brace myself for the inquisition I fear is coming.
He stands there with a grin on his face, looking at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking because, damn him, he probably does. After a few agonizing moments, he finally proceeds to climb the ladder. I try my best not to admire his long legs eating up the rungs or how good his butt looks in those worn out jeans but it’s hard.
And I’m a woman starved for affection.
Sue me.
I cup my hand over my eyes to shield the sun and watch as he walks back and forth, assessing the damage. After about ten minutes of that, he climbs back down.
“You need a whole new roof. There are some soft spots up there that really need to be fixed, too.”
My shoulders sag, remembering my father said the same thing. He even offered to pay for it but I can’t let him do that. He’s done enough for me over the years. A quick fix will just have to do.
“Well, I can’t afford that. So if you could just quote the damage, that’d be great.” I pat his shoulder and turn to leave but he catches my wrist. The heat of his touch is enough to rob me of a gasp, and a whole lot of other things.
