He good-naturedly grumbled as they ambled to the front door, but he paused before saying good night. Part of him wanted to tell her to ignore her mom’s mistakes and her stepdad’s shittiness and trust that she’d find the right guy someday. But another part of him—a loud, annoying part—didn’t want her to start picturing some other guy in this house, at least not while he was still here doing work. He wanted to have her to himself for a little longer.
“Thanks for tonight,” she said. “I feel better.”
“Hitting things with a hammer’ll do that for you.” He took a step toward her until he could see the specks of dust in her hair from the destruction in the kitchen. “You’ve got…” He brushed away the traces of their work, then let his hands drift to her cheek, her neck.
When his fingers kept moving downward, all thoughts of plans and schedules and agreements flew from his head, which gave him permission to do something he’d been wanting to do all night: he slid his hands into the gap between her overalls and the bottom of her shirt, resting his fingers gently on her hips where they dipped in to her waist. He’d been tortured by flashes of her skin as she moved, and now he gave in to the overwhelming desire to touch.
Her breathing hitched as his thumbs brushed across her warm skin and came perilously close to slipping under the hem of her tank top. She closed her eyes and swayed forward, and for one dizzying moment, he leaned in too. Nobody was around to put on a show for. He wanted to kiss her because he wanted to kissher.
And fuck, that’s why he shouldn’t. Because if he kissed her right now, he’d be tempted not to stop. This thing between them was changing by the day, in his mind at least, but that wasn’t what they’d agreed to. He’d promised no sex, and right now he wasn’t sure he could stick to that if he didn’t put some distance between them. With immense effort, he took a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and when her eyes fluttered open, he couldn’t read her expression. Relief? Disappointment?
He cleared his throat and took another step toward the door. “Sleep well, killer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He let himself out the door and kept his windows rolled down for his drive home, hoping the April air would cool his blood enough to let him sleep that night.
Fifteen
“Aiden? Boyfriend?Cutie patootie?”
Thea’s voice echoed through the warehouse portion of Murdoch Construction, and she located the man she was looking for by the grumbled “Jesus Christ” coming from the back corner.
“What, you don’t like cutie patootie?” she asked when she found him among a pile of sinks and PVC pipes.
“Worst one yet.” But he smiled when he said it, and the sight of him, gorgeous and grinning, knocked her breath from her lungs and filled her with a surge of joy.
“You love it.” She poked at his ribs, and he laughingly grabbed her finger to stave off a second jab. “So I’ve presented myself over the lunch hour, as requested. What’s up?”
“Right. Follow me.” He linked his fingers with hers and led her to a different section of the warehouse where a large hump of something was covered in cardboard and bubble wrap.
“What do you think?”
She looked again at the packing material. “You… shouldn’t have?”
He laughed as he pulled a utility knife from his back pocket and cut through the wrapping with swift efficiency. It parted to reveal a minimalist slate-gray cabinet with clean lines and no frills.
“Oooh, they’re here!” she cried. “And they’re beautiful!”
“They are pretty nice.” He ran a thumb along the closest edge. “These are going to transform your kitchen.”
“I can’t wait.” She glanced up at him, almost bashful all of a sudden. “I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
He waved it off. “Probably as much as I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
“Please. Spending time with you is no hardship.” The opposite. She liked it way too much.
“I dunno. I’m sure it’s tough, pretending to keep me satisfied at night.” He winked, and her insides reacted as if he’d dipped her into a pot of boiling water.
The memory of his hands on her hips the night they’d destroyed her kitchen had haunted her all weekend, but the only satisfaction she could find these days was battery operated. And wasn’t that the ultimate irony? Hours alone with the player of Beaucoeur, and all her orgasms were courtesy of her vibrator. A shame when Aiden had such long, lovely fingersright there.
Her head lolled to the side as she watched him bundling up the packing material, and she lost herself in the fantasy of what he could do with those babies. If only she wasn’t, well,her.In all the time they’d spent together, she sometimesalmostthought she was picking up a vibe from him. The way he leaned close. The way he watched her talk. The way his fingers flirted with the hem of her shirt on demolition night. But if he was actually interested in her like that, he’d have said so or done something by now. It’s not like he was shy around women, for God’s sake. But he always pulled away just when things were about to get interesting, probably because he remembered who he was with.
She was pathetic. The limits of their deal were clear, and she might as well go around in a potato sack and a chastity belt for all it mattered to him. Shehadto slam the brakes on her runaway thoughts.
Best to put on a brave face. She patted her new cabinets and bent down to whisper, “You’re coming home with me soon.”
“Okay, weirdo.”
She allowed herself to enjoy the laugh lines around his eyes before she hiked her purse up her shoulder. “Well, if that’s it, I should probably—”
