Chapter Five #3
He rested his hand on the bench between them, so close that she swore she felt his fingertip sweep along her leg.
Her ex always told her she was losing her mind. Maybe she was proving him right.
She leaped up and took off toward a section of birdhouses to escape her disturbing thoughts. But when she studied the birdhouses, it was impossible not to grow excited by the bright colors and even one shaped like a fat ladybug.
She opened her mouth to squeal at the cuteness of it, caught Crew watching her, and snapped it shut.
Slowly, she wandered over to the fountains.
Crew trailed behind and stepped up beside her. Even though he was staring at the concrete fountain, she felt his attention on her. “That was a really cute birdhouse.”
She blinked. “The ladybug?”
“Yeah.”
“It is!” She clamped her lips shut again, determined not to embarrass him. “You probably think I’m insane, getting excited about a birdhouse shaped like a bug.”
He turned his head. She turned hers too. Their gazes locked.
“I love your enthusiasm, Fern. You were born for this job. Your parents even knew it when they named you.”
The air bottled in her lungs gusted out, and with it, a puffed laugh. “That means a lot to me.”
“What do you say about getting some photos of these items you like?”
“Great idea.” She pulled up her phone camera and Crew followed her around while she snapped photos of the options. “I can print the photos and create a presentation board for Willow. Maybe we can even put it up in the lodge for everyone to get a feel for how it will look.”
“They’ll love it.”
The way he said it, gritty and low, made her wonder if they were talking about the garden anymore.
When they got back in the truck, another one of her favorite songs was on the radio. It always got her moving, and she tapped her foot. Seeing her response, Crew turned up the music and started belting out the tune, a country lilt in his tone that brought out the meaning of the words.
With a laugh, she joined in with her own less than perfect voice, and a dozen songs later, they reached the greenhouse.
One look at the glass walls and her morning forced its way back—the objects in places she knew she hadn’t left them.
Crew put the truck in park.
She gripped the bag containing the security system. “Were you serious about installing the security system for me?”
Any spark of amusement in his eyes cooled. “I’m serious.”
She wasn’t wrong about his beard. In only a few hours, the shadow on his angular jaw had sprouted to full-on stubble, which made her fingers itch with the desire to run her fingers over it. To find out if it was soft or coarse.
While she definitely needed the security system for her own peace of mind, there was more to her question. If she was honest, she wasn’t ready to end their time together. She liked Crew. But was she ready for more? She hadn’t gained her independence all that long ago.
But who said they had to jump into a relationship? She could just throw herself into his lap and kiss him like she wanted. She could skim her fingertips along his jaw and learn the rasp of his stubble.
“You want me to follow you to your place?” he asked, jolting her from her thoughts.
“That’d be great.”
She climbed out, bag in hand, and gave him a smile before she closed the truck door. He watched her unlock her car and slide behind the wheel with the intensity of a man who’d take a bullet for her.
Fighting the throb that had started low between her thighs, she drove to her apartment and led him up the flight of stairs. Showing him around her apartment took all of two minutes.
“The place is much bigger inside than it looks on the outside.”
She spun to face him. “Yes! That was the real selling point for me.”
When they reached the kitchen, she spotted the dirty mug in the sink…and familiar panic crashed over her.
She froze, muscles locked for a heartbeat. She darted forward and switched on the water. She squirted dish soap in it and grabbed the dishcloth to quickly wash the mug. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have left that there. I’ll just—” She scrubbed the cup much harder than necessary.
Silence throbbed in the air. Then a big hand reached across her and switched off the faucet.
She went still.
Gentle fingers touched her arm, gliding down to her wrist. Crew took the mug from her and set it in the sink.
Oh god. He knew how crazy she was. How crazy her ex had made her.
Head bowed, she fought back stinging tears.
Crew stood close but didn’t touch her. “After our grandma passed, my sister sold the house and moved in with her boyfriend.”
Fern’s heart hurled itself against her ribs.
He went on. “He wasn’t good to her, but she didn’t know that until she lived with him. He was pretty controlling, and it escalated until she got scared. Thankfully, I had a long leave at the time she needed me. I helped her pack her things and leave.”
Unable to speak around the knot in her throat, she only nodded.
“I’m glad I could be there for her at that time. Because a month later, my life fell apart.”
She jerked around to meet his stare. The depths of his eyes roiled with emotions that took her breath away.
Without thinking, she reached out and curled her fingers around his arm. The sinew hardened under her touch, but he didn’t pull away.
“I was a pilot. In a training exercise, there was a malfunction in the system. I ejected…my copilot didn’t.”
“Oh, Crew.” Her eyes swam. He might not appreciate her tears for what he went through. To hide them, she stepped forward and put her arms around him.
As soon as they touched, her body took over and molded to his.
Crew pulled her tight. Like they’d done this a thousand times, she rested her cheek against his chest, right over his pounding heart. Neither of them blinked for one beat…then two.
Suddenly, they both moved at the same time. He slid his knuckle under her chin, lifting her face to his at the same moment she surged onto her tiptoes. Their stares collided for only a second before a noise of want escaped her.
His mouth crashed over hers. The heated pressure slammed into her, tearing another sound from her throat. Clutching at his shoulders—she’d been wanting to do that since the minute she laid eyes on him—her mind whirled as she kissed him back.
His lips were surprisingly gentle for such a hard man. When he angled his head to deepen the kiss, sensation swept through her. His answering growl had her digging her fingers into his muscle to pull him closer.
Gliding his tongue over her bottom lip, he urged her to open for him. On a gasp, she parted her lips and his hot tongue swished over hers. Knees weak, almost buckling, she gripped him tighter, and he lashed her against him.
Every inch of that enticing bulge swelled against her lower stomach. It terrified her—not because of her past but because the need pounding through her veins was unlike any she’d felt before.
He whirled, locking her against the counter and the painted cabinets with the cute floral decals, and plundered her.
The kiss sent sparks through her limbs, making them heavy even as she felt like she was floating. Then she was floating—in his arms.
Without breaking the kiss, Crew lifted her onto the counter.
She spread her thighs to pull him between them, matching his tongue stroke for stroke. Crew pushed close and yanked her pussy up against his body. With a will of its own, her body rocked, seeking release from the pressure building inside her.
Groaning, he twisted his lips free and stood there, chest heaving, staring down at her. “I don’t want you to think I came here to take advantage of you, Fern.”
She shook her head, confusion muddying her senses but not dulling the passion still thrumming through her veins. “I know.”
He slowly loosened his hold on her. When he took a step back, her stomach dropped at the loss of his body heat.
“I should install that security system.” He jerked a thumb toward the front of the apartment.
She nodded, watching the man who’d stolen her mind for several dizzying minutes back away. She remained seated on the counter, next to the dirty mug that started it all.
Soon the apartment would be secure. Her heart wouldn’t be.
Not from him.