Chapter 21
Like a teenager waiting for her first kiss, Cassie had difficulty controlling her excitement. It took everything she had not to show her eagerness by bouncing on the truck seat. Mike was taking her to see his house and she couldn’t wait.
“You’re quiet.”
Cassie faced Mike. His attention on his driving, she noticed his steady hands gripping the wheel. “I’m impatient.”
“You don’t show it.”
“When I’m nervous, I chatter. It’s annoying. I’m trying very hard to keep my mouth shut.”
He laughed, that deep rich sound that sent tingles racing down her spine.
“Why are you nervous? It’s just a house.”
“I get to see where you live,” she said, her enthusiasm coming through in her voice. His space. He’d invited her and she’d jumped at the chance.
Mike glanced at her with a serious expression. “It’s nothing special. Just a normal place, like yours. A living room, kitchen, bedrooms.”
“It must be big.”
“Nooo.” He drew out the word. “It’s the house I grew up in. I lived with my dad.”
“Yes, you said you bought it from him. But you built a big garage.” Where he housed his Mustang. Where he’d spent many hours sweating, building, restoring. The more she thought about his personal space, the more enthusiastic she grew. It was almost arousing.
“It’s nothing fancy either. Just a building.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Cassie. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
Disappointed?
She suddenly realized her mistake. In her excitement, she’d blundered and made him think … what?
“Mike. You’ve talked about a garage you built for you Mustang. You mentioned an engine hoist and tools. I just imagined a lot of space for you to work or tinker, or play with your big boy toys. I’m excited because it’s your space. It’s you. Where you spend your time. Where you worked on your beautiful car.”
When his face eased into a grin, the tension in her chest vanished. “Ah. It’s really the car you want to see.”
She answered him with a teasing smile of her own. “Of course.”
He turned at the intersection, taking a road to the right. They’d gone about a mile and he turned into a sub-division, then pulled into a gravel driveway, leading to a small two-story house. She stared at the quaint home as the truck rolled to a stop.
“Here we are. Home sweet home.” Mike shoved the gearshift into park.
The outside was a soft yellow with white shutters and three steps leading up to a porch that was enclosed with wooden rails. The driveway extended around the side of the house, making Cassie wonder if the garage was back there.
“I guess I should take you in the front. The driveway goes around to the back of the house.”
“Works for me.” Breathless with anticipation, Cassie hopped out of the truck. Mike met her and placed his palm on her lower back. Heat surged through every part of her, the way it did every time he touched her. She almost leaned into his warmth, but she wanted to see his house.
He opened the front door and motioned for her to go in first. “This is the living room.”
The walls and furniture were done in greens and browns. In the middle of the room were two recliners and a leather couch. Definitely a man’s taste. Box shades at the windows, instead of curtains, gave it a clean-cut look. A large book shelf, handmade, lined one wall holding more movies than books. And, not surprisingly, the man size TV. She’d guess at least sixty inches. A lamp and coasters were the only items on the end table. Simple, neat and very cozy.
“Through here is the kitchen.”
She stepped into a nice sized kitchen with plenty of space for a dining table and four chairs.
They must have eaten their meals in here. Homey.
“Do you cook?”
“Of course. Mostly at the station. All the guys cook. We take turns. Although, Shep is the best. He and Laredo compete. I’m happy to pull clean up.” He turned. “This way to the bathroom.” He strode toward a doorway that led to a hall circling back to the living room.
Cassie was surprised at the cleanliness of his home. No clutter. Evidently, Mike was a neat freak.
“Tell me. Did you clean up for me or hire someone to clean your house?”
Mike looked offended, but he over-killed pretending to be insulted. He was too darn cute.
“Do you think I can’t clean a house? Growing up, it was just me and Dad. We did it all. Cook, clean—no one else was there to do it for us.”
“You’ve done a magnificent job,” she purred. She knew how to stroke a man’s pride and she promised to make up for it later.
“Bedrooms are upstairs.” He hesitated, watching her reaction.
Was Mike nervous? Naw. If he wanted to go upstairs, he’d just pick her up and carry her. Maybe he was waiting for a signal from her. He could be such a gentleman. No matter how appealing falling into bed seemed right now, she was dying to see his garage.
“Hmm. And outside?” she hinted.
He chuckled. A deep rumble in his chest that made her rethink her decision of going upstairs.
“Come on,” he said, leading her back to the kitchen and a set of glass doors. “I don’t like sliding glass doors, so I put in a hinged patio door for my dad.”
Which basically looked like one French door, only bigger. Stained and polished to a beautiful shine.
Wood porch, wood table that looked better than the quality found in furniture stores—a talented carpenter?
She stepped onto a huge deck the length of the house, stained in a beautiful shade of caramel. Sun glinted off a stainless-steel grill sitting at one corner. An ironwork table and chairs sat to the right. Railing surrounded the entire deck and down three steps to the ground.
“Did you build this?”
“Yep. Used to be a screened in porch. I ripped it out and built this deck. Dad and I sat out here as often as we could. Now, it’s just me.”
Bingo.
“It’s perfect,” she said. He smiled with pride, giving her a fuzzy feeling in her tummy. She pointed to the barbeque. “You like to grill?”
“I do,” he said, then gave a shrug. “Not home enough to do it. The guys go to Shep’s for cookouts.” He pointed to the houses lining his backyard. “The Berry Farm used to be there. I had hoped to save money and one day buy a section of land, but the old woman died and her son, who lives in Texas, sold it to a developer. Now I’m surrounded by a subdivision with neighbors backed right up to my garage.”
Cassie noticed a building at the edge of his driveway, but she’d heard the wistfulness in Mike’s voice. He didn’t like having people on top of him. She imagined him in a country setting, maybe even a farm.
“Okay. I know you’re anxious. Come on.” Mike headed down the steps and toward a building that had to be the garage.
Her feet danced along the grass in anticipation. He threw open the door and she stepped from bright sunshine to a darkened room, slits of light gleaming through high windows. Mike flipped a switch and florescent bulbs flickered to life, illuminating the entire space.
She blinked. Then tried to take everything in at once.
“Told you. It isn’t much.”
Cassie took a quick scan of the interior. Lots of tools and equipment to the left, some type of machines, an engine hoist and metal racks. Two cars were parked right in the middle of the building, each covered with a canvas. A tall wooden work bench, probably built to suit Mike’s height, lined the right wall from the door to the back of the room.
“Are you kidding? This is awesome.” She took a step forward. “I want to see everything. But first, I want to know what’s under those.” She pointed directly to the canvas in front of her.
He rolled one of the covers back. The Mustang. “Is this what’s had you acting like a jumping bean?”
“Wow.” She breathed in awe, just like the first time she’d seen it. Under the ceiling lights, the black paint shined, luring her like a homing beacon. “It looks just as spectacular as the day you took me for a ride.” She couldn’t wait to see what hid under the other cloth. “Do you have another one?”
Mike’s leering grin reminded her of the cliché about the cat that swallowed the canary. Damn the man was handsome. Hot with a capital H. Before he could remove the cloth, she slipped up behind him and slid her hands around his middle. He froze.
Then he slowly turned and wrapped her in his arms for a perfect hug.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on her mind. The same as him. Entirely too much time had passed without Cassie in his arms. From the moment he stepped into the house, he thought of taking her upstairs to his bedroom. For Christ’s sake, he didn’t want to pounce on her first thing. But now? All bets were off.
“You feel so good. I love being all snuggled up to you.”
He loved the way her voice got all throaty. He slid his hand up the center of her back and welcomed the delicious surge of arousal. “I can’t go five seconds without touching you.”
He leaned back and tilted her face for his kiss. Warm lips pressed against his. He cradled the back of her head, buried his fingers in her hair and kissed her slow and deep. He couldn’t touch her without wanting to possess her. She brought out every urge, every desire to own her. Before his passion took control, he slowed the hunger in his kiss.
When they broke apart, he ran his nose along her jaw and behind her ear, enjoying the feel of her skin. “I love the way you melt into me,” he murmured.
Her ragged breathing matched his. Her fingers tugged at the waist of his jeans. “Are you going to show me what’s under there?”
He groaned at her double entendre, then forced himself to let her go. Unable to resist, he brushed his lips across her cheek once more, then readjusted himself. He turned around and began folding back the car cover.
“I saw a for sale ad in The Bulletin Board for this.” He scrutinized the old Mustang that looked like it had gone through hell and back.
Cassie’s face puckered in a frown. “Who would do that to a car? What year is it?”
“1966 fastback. Some older woman had it in her barn. The chickens were living in it.”
“Oh, no.” She stuck her head inside and quickly drew back out. “It smells.”
Mike laughed. “You should have seen it when I picked it up. I cleaned the thing out before I put it in here. The whole place would be rank if I hadn’t.”
“Looks like it was in a demolition derby. What color was it? It’s so rusted.”
“The famous green that was so popular that year. Needs a lot of body work. Haven’t checked out the engine yet.” He pointed to the 1969 black convertible. “That one over there looked a lot like this when I started. Except for the crushed fenders.”
“I can’t imagine the effort required to get this one in good shape.”
“It will take a lot of work and time.” The image of Cassie beside him, grease on her face popped in his head. A nice dream.
He spent the next thirty minutes showing Cassie the things in his shop. He’d never seen a woman so engrossed in the tools and apparatuses a man toyed with. Most women would consider a garage a dirty space. Not Cassie. She questioned every item and listened with interest.
One more thing to love about her.
Before he could travel down that forbidden path, he shook off the fantasy. Her curiosity fed, he turned off the lights and closed the shop. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking of how the beautiful woman at his side would fit right in here. His space. His home.
His life.
He popped the tops on two beers and carried the bottles out to the deck. Cassie sat on a chaise, her long legs stretched out. He imagined them wrapped around him and an immediate stiffening hit his groin.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed her a brew.
He took the chair next to her. With the sun directing its rays on the front of the house, the deck was in shadow, making the afternoon temperature comfortable where he and Cassie sat in the shade. His mind flooded with craving. How he’d like to have his way with her. Right here. Right now.
He scowled, staring at the border of his property.
“Not much privacy,” he said aloud, damning the other houses’ presence.
“In my apartment, sometimes I can hear through the walls.”
He grunted in understanding.
“I don’t have a yard to plant flowers, I can’t see the mountains. The flip side is I feel safe. It’s a big building, but I have people around me.”
He was just the opposite. He hated people invading his living space. Everywhere he turned he saw more development. More houses cluttering up his view.
“I like wide open spaces and I’d rather have the woods and sky around me. I’d like to sit on my back deck and see the mountains, not the neighbor’s roof or their junk in their back yard.” Or have them witness an intimate moment. Damn, he felt suffocated.
“Why don’t you move?”
“Believe me, I’ve thought about it.” He wondered if Cassie might like living in the country. With wide open spaces, lots of grassland, trees, woods.
“I guess it would be difficult leaving the home you grew up in.”
Was she kidding? What did he care about this old place?
“After all, you’ve built that wonderful garage.”
“I can build a garage anywhere. I’ve been tempted to sell this place and buy land out in the country.”
“What’s holding you back?”
“Good question,” he answered with a sigh. “I suppose I haven’t had a reason to motivate me.” Would Cassie be his motivation? Would she give up the security of her apartment to live with him?
Christ.There he went again. Thinking of a future. With her.
Was it that farfetched?
“I’ve been saving. If I’m going to purchase land, I want a place big enough I won’t need to worry about someone moving in right beside me.” Or watching me from their window. He didn’t want another house within thirty miles of his. Fat chance of that happening. “I haven’t had the time or the inclination to actually purchase another property.”
“Would you sell this house or keep it?”
“I’d sell it. Dad’s happy in North Carolina. I have no attachment to the place. I’d use the money for a new house.”
Cassie took a swig of her beer and propped up her knee. “Tell me about the home you’d like to have.”
He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at his ankles.
A place like Shep’s.
“I don’t need anything fancy or big.” He remembered Cassie’s anticipation on the ride to his house. Did she want a big house?
All women did.
“A lot of land. Enough where I can’t see my neighbor.”
“Hermit.”
Mike angled his head and gestured with his bottle. “Would you like looking at that every day?”
“What do you imagine? Woods? Trees? Grass? Fences?”
“Haven’t really thought too much about it.”
“Why don’t you talk to a real estate agent? Just get an idea of what’s available.”
He thought on that for a good few minutes. If he wanted space, and land, and trees, and not freakin’ houses in his face, why didn’t he do something about it?