Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
RORY
From the moment I had said yes via text last night, I’d questioned my sanity. What was I thinking, inviting a man like Nash King into my home—into my life —more than was absolutely necessary? I wasn’t thinking, and that was the problem.
The trouble was, I couldn’t discuss my concerns with…anyone. It might’ve been something I confided in my best friend about, but Sarah Beth’s and my sharing days were over. As long as you didn’t count my ex-husband in the mix.
I certainly couldn’t tell my sisters. They were already privy to my money troubles, to my ex-best friend and ex-husband’s betrayal, and to my strained relationship with my oldest daughter. How was I supposed to tell them that a man made me stupid on top of all that? And not just any man, but one I’d known his whole life? One I’d babysat .
I shook my head and glanced over at the man in question. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of those inappropriate calendars they sold for charity—the blue-collar edition.
July in Havenbrook meant near-hell levels of heat, and my place only had shoddy window air-conditioning units in the bedrooms. Which meant it was hotter than Satan’s armpit everywhere else in the house.
Nash had lasted all of ten minutes inside before stripping off his shirt and getting right back to work. And I most certainly had not been staring at him every chance I’d gotten, trying to make out the individual designs of his tattoos.
Currently, he stood clear on the other side of the kitchen with his tape measure out as he scrutinized my cabinets. He mouthed something to himself, then plucked the pencil from behind his ear to jot a note on a piece of scratch paper.
He was so intense when he worked. So focused. So precise. What would it be like to have all that concentration directed solely at me?
“What’re you thinkin’?” he asked.
I snapped my eyes up to his, my cheeks flaming scarlet. Not only had he caught me gawking, but apparently, he was a mind reader too. That was just fantastic. “What?”
He stared at me for a beat, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he tapped his outstretched tape measure on an upper cabinet. “In here. You gonna try to reuse these or get all new?”
An exhale left me in a loud whoosh, and I nearly sagged against the wall in relief. “Oh, um, I’d like to save the money and just repaint them. If you think they’re salvageable?”
“They’re in pretty good shape, so I think you’ll be okay.” He reeled in the tape measure and hooked it onto his tool belt.
Leaning back against the counter, he crossed his arms over his gloriously hard and bare chest, his biceps bulging at the move. I’d had no idea men looked like him in real life. Heaven knew Sean hadn’t.
“If you’d like, I can price out adding a short set above these so the cabinets go all the way to the ceiling. That way you can maximize your storage space since the room’s on the smaller side.”
There was something really wrong with me when my knees went weak over a man talking to me about kitchen cabinets. Of course, it didn’t help when said man was downright indecent. Everything from his broad shoulders, to his cut biceps, to his corrugated abs, to that distracting trail of hair leading straight into his?—
I jerked my gaze away from his zipper. “That’d be great, thanks.”
Without another word, I spun back around and continued attacking the wallpaper with a ferocity better suited for war.
But this was war as far as I was concerned. A war between my traitorous body and my absolutely-knew-better mind.
It was just a dumb infatuation, that was all. My libido was sick and tired of being shoved into the bottom drawer along with the pocket vibrator I should’ve thrown out—the one Nat had gotten me as a gag gift one Christmas. No doubt for the sole purpose of watching me lose my mind when I’d opened it.
But, well, when your orgasms had only ever come by your own hand—despite having been married for more than a decade—sometimes it was nice to spice things up a bit. And keeping that little toy was a hell of a lot easier than worrying about ordering something new. How were those items packaged, anyway? Would it show up on my credit card bill? Did the shipping label spell out SEX TOYS in huge block letters for all the world to see?
It made my heart leap into a gallop just thinking about what Edna would have to say about delivering something like that to one of the Havens. That woman was nice as could be but was a huge gossip, and the last thing I needed in my life was more of that directed at me.
“I’m surprised you’re takin’ down the wallpaper,” Nash said from right beside me.
I jumped, bracing myself against the wall so I didn’t totter off the chair. I’d done well so far today, making sure to keep a decent distance between us while we worked. And now he’d gone and shot it all to hell.
He stood so close, I could feel the heat pouring off his body. What would all those hot muscles feel like under my hands? Or my mouth? The thought lit a match inside me, stoking a fire in my lower belly that hadn’t been kindled in far too long.
With me standing on the chair, my breasts were nearly eye level with Nash, and absolutely nothing good would come of that. I was already primed, the apex of my thighs growing warm as my nipples tightened beneath the ridiculous excuse for a top I wore. Thankfully, I’d had enough forethought to don my most heavily padded bra so my body couldn’t give me away.
“What?” I asked, not recalling a word of what he’d said.
One side of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin, his eyes never leaving mine. “The wallpaper.” He tipped his head toward it. “I’m surprised you’re gettin’ rid of it.”
That snapped me out of my stupor. The wallpaper in this house was horrendous and covered every square inch of it. Rainbows and lily pads and geometric shapes. No rhyme or reason to the designs at all, which was a nightmare in and of itself. Nothing went together, and it drove me absolutely mad.
In the kitchen and dining area? The walls were covered from top to bottom with a farm scene, complete with barns and enough roosters to fill them.
“I’m offended by that. Why in heaven’s name would you be surprised? It’s hideous.” I gestured toward the remaining paper on the wall. “Do I seem like the kind of woman who likes hideous things?”
He shrugged. “Not really, no. I just figured every woman needs a good cock in the house.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know anything at all about a good cock.”
It took me half a second before I realized what I’d said, and I whirled toward him on a gasp, the move upsetting my balance and sending me teetering toward Nash. Without missing a beat, he caught me before I could fall, but that might have been better than the current situation.
His thick arms held me flush against his body, my feet dangling off the floor like I was nothing more than a rag doll. And why did the proof that he could manhandle me if he wanted send shivers up my spine?
I rested my arms against the chest I’d been daydreaming about all morning. It was hard. And hot. And the light dusting of hair that covered it was so soft. Softer than I’d imagined. I knew that because I couldn’t still my fingers. They smoothed over his pecs, ran back and forth in an almost unconscious effort.
All the while, he stared at me, his eyes dark with lust, his breath sweeping across my lips. And then, before I could blink, before I could push away or tell him to put me down, he inched his face forward. Slowly. So slowly there was absolutely no excuse for me allowing it to happen. Yet I did. I didn’t say a damn thing as I waited for Nash’s lips to touch mine.
And when they did, I lit up like a firework.
I melted against him, opening my mouth for his seeking tongue, whimpering when it touched mine. His answering groan sent shudders through me, and I matched him stroke for stroke.
Nash groaned and clutched me closer as he worked my mouth over with his own. He reached down and gripped my ass, lifting me higher and tighter against him. The move did nothing to disguise the hard bulge pressing against my stomach, and I’d never been more desperate to feel anything in all my life.
This man fried my brain, made me lose my mind. Death by sexual tension.
While I’d wanted desperately to know what it felt like to have his hands on me, I wasn’t sure the reality of that was such a good idea. Until my last breath, I’d never be able to erase the memory of Nash’s long, thick fingers clenched tightly around my side, his other hand gripping my ass so hard, I’d be surprised if I didn’t end up with finger-shaped bruises. And I couldn’t even bring myself to care.
Just as fast as the kiss began, he pulled away, set me down, and stepped back. He locked eyes with me—his so hungry and full of want, I could barely breathe—and brushed his thumb across his swollen bottom lip. He looked like a man desperate for me. Like he wanted to devour me right there in my kitchen, hideous cocks as witnesses to the whole sordid affair.
“I— Um…” I said, my tone husky thanks to the impromptu make-out session.
“Well, aren’t y’all cute!” a voice called from the front porch. “Hope I’m not interruptin’ anything.”
I pried my gaze away from Nash’s hypnotizing stare and shot it toward the front of the house.
Edna stood on the other side of the screen door, waving a handful of mail in greeting, her eyes positively gleaming. “I swear, Rory, I haven’t seen Nash toddlin’ around you since you used to babysit him and Nat when they were knee-high to a grasshopper!”
The words might as well have been a bucket of ice water to my libido. What the hell was I doing? Allowing myself to entertain this nonsense with Nash. Allowing him to kiss me and get me all worked up. Hell, I’d practically writhed in his arms, desperate to get closer and rub myself all over him. Had, in fact, been closer to coming from that mere activity than I’d ever been with Sean.
It was Nash, for heaven’s sake. My pseudo-business partner. My youngest sister’s best friend, not to mention that he was eight years my junior. I had absolutely no business even thinking of him as I had been, let alone kissing him.
And I’d best remember that.