10. Gemma
10
Gemma
T he next morning, I awake to banging on the door. What the hell? Startled, I hop out of bed and walk across the old wooden floor as quickly as I can with a thud, thud, thud from my bare feet. When I pull the door open, I am met with a tall, muscular figure blocking my doorway.
I am immediately taken over by the scent of him. It's almost a combination of soap and hay. I let that combination rattle around in my head for a minute. It isn’t something I would usually find attractive. I would probably find the smell of the outdoors gross normally, if I’m honest. But somehow, in this moment, it is almost intoxicating. He is intoxicating.
I had been so taken aback by being woken up so abruptly that I opened the bedroom door without even taking a moment to think. If I had taken that moment, I would have had the time to remember that I slept in my satin pajama short set last night. They are the perfect pajamas to beat the heat of the south, that is still persisting, even in September. But they are not the best pajamas for morning conversations with the owner of a small-town bed and breakfast’s son.
It isn’t until I see Brooks smirk and follow his eyes to my chest that I realize how thin the top is. After a few days here, I know the family cranks the old AC each morning to get a head start on the inevitable heat of the afternoon. But here I am in my thin top, and each nipple is standing at attention. It is as if they are showing off for him under the fabric.
I roll my eyes at him and huff, “What do you want?” But then I turn away from him quick enough to hide my smile. I know I have great boobs, and I actually get a bit of satisfaction knowing that. Based on his lingering gaze, he thinks so too.
I know better than to fall for some random guy in some random town. I most definitely am not ready to even think about dating after the disaster that was Gavin. Hell, I still cry some nights over him even though I know I am better off with him in my past.
But Brooks sure is gorgeous in a rugged type of way I have never known before. We are both young and single, and I only plan to be here for a short time. Why not enjoy his appreciative looks and have some fun with it? A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone. Right?
With that in mind. I walk over to the window slowly with a slight swing of my hips. I bend forward ever so slightly as I pull the curtains to let the light in. With a sly smile, I take my time as I start to make the bed. I am fully aware that my breasts are on display again and I can’t help but hope that it has caused Brooks to stagger in his thought process.
As if he notices that I know he is looking at me, he snaps out of it. “What do you mean, what do I want? You are the one who asked for my help!” Brooks retorts.
I roll my eyes. “Because you weren’t gonna quit until I did! But still, it’s early as hell! What is your problem? Don’t you like sleeping like normal people?” I almost whine that last bit at him.
Brooks actually snorts. Snorts! “Early? I’ve been working bulls since 4:30. I cut out early to help you. But I’m not waiting all day. If you want me, you get me now or not at all.” He pauses as he digests the innuendo that just came out of his mouth. “I got other shit to do this afternoon, like helping with this place,” he grumbles.
Men and their damn need to have everything on their own schedule. This man, in particular, seems extra pigheaded and inflexible. He seems to get even worse when I notice the effect I have on him. Well, this is a game I was born to play. Brooks can think he’s in charge all he wants, but it is easy to see what I have to do to pull his strings.
I might as well have some extracurricular fun while I’m here. Isn’t that what single girls my age are supposed to do anyways? Have carefree fun with hot guys and then flit on to the next one? It isn’t something I have ever done. I have never really been good at the casual, no-strings-attached stuff. That was evident with Gavin.
But Brooks is fucking hot, and I am great at flirting so why not give it a try? Harmless flirting never hurt anyone, and it will sure help keep my mind from wandering back to the asshole back home.
After hours of Brooks showing me the town and introducing me to all the little shop owners, we head back to the gorgeous old ranch house his parents call home. I have grown to love the place in just the few short days I have been staying here. Something about the peeling white paint and the wrap-around front porch makes it look like it has stood the test of time and will continue to do so. It is comforting and gives off a sense of safety and security. Maybe that’s what makes it so perfect for a bed and breakfast.
When I see Brooks glance at his watch and let out a frustrated sigh, I feel my body tense. I begin to feel a little guilty for the amount of time I have taken from him today. He had seemed to enjoy every minute, and the townspeople all seemed pleasantly surprised to see him out and about during the daylight hours. But I know him well enough by now to know he is pretty serious about his ranch work. He gave some of that up to help me. But why? Why did he sacrifice his precious time to help a random stranger? It doesn’t make sense. Especially when he seems like such a prick 90% of the time.
I guess it also doesn’t make much sense that I am standing outside sweating with this man. Okay, it makes a little sense with all those muscles peeking out of his shirt. Here I am trying not to drool and painting a fence to a house I don’t actually live in. I have painted on canvas and done various art projects with my mom over the years. But I have never painted a fence before. I am doing an okay job.
Well, I thought I was until I looked over at Brooks. This is obviously not a new task for him. He is completing his section swiftly and efficiently. His face is sculpted into a focused mask, and it is as if there is nothing in his world but the fence in front of him. It drives me a little nuts. How can he be that focused on a fence? I am using all my might to keep my focus off his arms.
So, to entertain and distract myself, I decide to pick on him here and there. He just takes it and keeps working silently, which drives me even more crazy. I take it up a notch and tell him he missed a spot, lean over him, and take my own brush to it.
He finally breaks his serious facade and grumble-laughs at me. “Okay, petty ass.”
“Damn right, I’m pretty!” I say without bothering to stop what I am doing and look up at him. I am determined to look as serious and focused as he is.
He laughs a full laugh this time. It is a deep rumble that shimmies down my spine. “I said petty,” he clarifies.
I school my face into an unphased mask. “Oh, I know.” I shrug nonchalantly. “But we both know you think I’m pretty, so I just went ahead and said it for you.”
He loses a breath and lets the silence settle between us once again. I can’t help but let the smile dancing in my eyes spread to my lips. I have won this one small battle, and I am content to let him see me celebrate it this time.