Baby for my Dad's Best Friend (Seaport Billionaires #2)

9. Kaylee

9

KAYLEE

I watch him drive away, and as soon as his truck is gone, my shoulders fall forward.

His rejection hurts more than it should.

I know everything he said is the truth.

I know he wants me. He knows I want him.

But we both know how my father would react, and neither of us wants to hurt him.

Knowing all that doesn’t change the way I feel, though.

He’s the first guy I’ve been interested in since my marriage fell through.

So, watching him turn and walk away, leaving me wanting, makes me feel like the shy girl I was in high school, watching all the guys I liked pick my best friend over me.

I open the door and climb behind the wheel.

Tears burn my eyes, threatening to fall over the rims, but I refuse to let them go.

His rejection isn’t a purposeful jab at the wound Scott and Michelle left, but it still hurts.

I go straight to bed when I get home, the alcohol I’ve consumed aiding in the process of falling asleep, but it doesn’t keep the dreams away.

Instead, I relive the day of my wedding.

I’ve had this dream many, many times over the past two months.

I always wake up at the same part, but this time, the dream transitions to something new.

Instead of waking, I walk into the bar.

I stop just inside the door, looking around for a place to sit.

That’s when my eyes find Austin’s.

I smile and start in his direction.

He looks at me, a cocky smile tugging at his lips, but a woman’s hand appears on his stomach, and I stop.

That’s when Michelle steps out from behind him.

She spins around so her chest is pressing against his.

He rips his eyes from me, looking down at her.

He fists her hair and pulls her mouth to his, kissing her hard and fast—the kind of kiss I’ve been dying to experience.

It feels like I’ve been slapped across the face.

While kissing her, his eyes open and lock on mine.

Even though he’s looking at me, he’s kissing her.

Then suddenly, he breaks their kiss.

He spins her around and forces her to bend over a table.

He pushes her dress up, and I quickly look around the crowded bar, finding that everyone but the three of us has disappeared.

My head turns back to them.

He’s thrusting into her now.

His head falls back, so all I can see is his sharp jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

Tears fill my eyes, and then I hear Michelle start to laugh.

My eyes pop open, and I suck in a gasp like I’ve been holding my breath.

My bedroom is full of light as I look to see the time on the clock.

It’s going on seven in the morning.

I wipe the moisture from my eyes as I swing my legs over the edge of my bed.

I hang my head as I massage my temples.

My head is pounding, and it’s impossible to go back to sleep now, so I push myself up and head toward the shower.

I don’t waste any time getting a move on.

Staying busy is the only thing that keeps me from thinking about last night and the dream I woke up from.

I feel embarrassed.

I should never be allowed to drink again.

I got a slight buzz from having a few beers and threw myself at the first guy who paid me any attention.

I remember when my high school boyfriend broke up with me after graduation.

Michelle told me to go out and hook up with someone else, that it would help me get over him.

I’ve known girls who have done this throughout college after going through a bad breakup.

Does it work?

Should I just go out, find a random hookup, and force myself to move on?

Is that what I’ve been trying to do with Austin?

Is my subconscious trying to get me to sleep with him to forget Scott?

I shake my head as I drive to the house to get to work. I’m overthinking all of this and just confusing myself.

I’m attracted to Austin, but he’s right. We can’t be together.

It’s easy to forget that after a few beers, but now that I’m sober, it’s easy to remind myself of why this can’t work out between us.

I’ve been working on the house for a few hours when I hear the front door open.

I stop and listen, hearing two men talking on the main floor.

I make my way down the ladder and put my brush down as I step out of the bedroom and look over the railing.

There, I find Austin and one of the guys from the crew, carrying in materials.

I make my way down the steps just as they’re bringing in the last load.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Austin yanks his eyes away from me, looking at his friend. “This is Chase, he’s one of the guys on the crew. Chase, this is Kaylee. She owns the house.”

He leans in, holding out his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

Austin’s eyes meet mine. “We’re just bringing over some materials to get started on Monday. I didn’t realize you’d be here, or I would’ve called.”

“I’m going to take off. You good?” Chase asks.

Austin nods, even though I can tell by his squared shoulders that he doesn’t want to be left alone with me. “I’m fine. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” Chase says, stepping out and leaving us alone.

I take a deep breath and look at my feet. “Austin… I owe you an apology.”

“No,” he blurts out, and when I look up, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. He lets his hand fall away as his eyes meet mine. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do. You were right about everything. This isn’t about what I want or what you want. It’s about doing the right thing, and we both know how my dad would feel about this. I’m sorry if I made things harder for you last night. I won’t do it again.” I nod once. “I’ll keep my distance and let you do your job.”

He nods. “I’m sorry about last night, too, Kay. I really am. I never should have said the things I did. It doesn’t matter if they’re true. Putting them out there…” He sighs. “It just complicates everything between us. I won’t do that again.”

I force a smile and I nod.

I’m not happy that I don’t get what I want, but I am glad that we seem to be on the same page.

I take a deep, clearing breath. “So, do you have to rush out, or do you have a few minutes to give me a quick lesson on prepping these cabinets?” I offer a friendly smile.

He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, I can show ya real quick. Come on.” He nods toward the kitchen.

A few minutes later, we both have a screwdriver, and we’re taking all the cabinet doors off and stacking them up.

Then, he pulls out the drawers and shows me how to remove the hardware.

After we’re done with that, we take everything outside. He’s already brought in a couple of sawhorses, and he lays one of the cabinet doors across them.

He gives me a pair of safety glasses and he breaks out the sander.

He takes a few passes at the cabinet door before turning off the sander and handing it to me. “You try.”

I take it, a little nervous to use such a powerful-looking tool, but I feel better knowing that he’s here to watch and stop me from doing anything that could damage the cabinet doors or hurt myself.

I turn the sander on and copy the motions I just saw him making.

The sander tickles my hands, making them tingle as I move it across the surface.

Even though the machine is loud, I can hear him when he says, “You need to take off a little more than that. You want to make sure you get all the old varnish off.”

I nod and train my eyes on my work, sanding further until I see a noticeable difference in the color of the wood.

I turn off the sander and push my safety glasses up on top of my head.

Even though we’re in the mostly shaded backyard and hidden behind a privacy fence, I’m still burning up and sweating, which just gives the sawdust something to stick to.

“How do I get closer to this lip that frames the door?” I ask, running my finger around the lip of the door.

He smirks and hands over a piece of sandpaper. “That’s done by hand.”

I feel my brows drag together, but I take it and start rubbing it against the door.

It barely does anything in comparison to the electric sander. After about ten minutes, my arm feels dead, and I stop.

He chuckles, taking over where I left off.

As he rubs the sandpaper over the cabinet, I stand back, watching him work.

His arm moves back and forth, the muscles bulging and flexing beneath his tanned skin.

I bite my lower lip as a throbbing begins between my thighs.

He glances up at me, a smile on his sexy lips at first, but he’s somehow able to read me and his smile falls away.

He slows to a stop, dropping the sandpaper while standing up straight and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Anyway, that’s how it’s done. Just takes a little elbow grease.”

I nod and cross my arms. “Thanks.” I feel the grit beneath my hands and let my arms fall away as I rub at my arms, trying to knock the dust off.

I look at him, noticing that we’re both covered in it. “I’ll grab the hose.”

I turn the water on and squeeze the trigger on the handle, trying to rinse the dust from my left arm, but the stuff doesn’t budge.

“Here. Let me help.” He takes the handle, spraying the water so I have my right hand to rub at the dust which helps to get it washed down my arm.

Once my left arm is clean, I use my left hand to rub at my right arm. Once both of my arms are free of sawdust, I take the hose from him so he can do the same, but my hands are wet, and the handle slips.

I almost drop it, but I manage to keep ahold of it by tightening my grip.

In the process, it sprays more than just his arms. It shoots up, spraying his face and chest.

My eyes double in size and my mouth falls open, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“Oh, that’s it,” he says, grabbing for the hose, but I squeal and pull it back.

I twist around so my back is to him, but he reaches around me, pulling my back to his chest as we fight for the hose.

In our little fight, I squeeze the trigger and water sprays up in the air, raining on both of us.

“You’re so going to get it,” he warns, still wrestling me for the hose.

Somehow, I spin in his arms so we’re facing one another.

I’m holding the hose behind my back, but he stops trying for it the moment our eyes meet.

I lick the water from my lips and the next thing I know, we’re kissing.