Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RORY
I could hardly remember why I’d been nervous about maintaining a working relationship with Nash while we were sleeping together. Turned out, working with him was as easy as breathing. Sure, we argued and it was a constant battle of wills between us, but I even enjoyed that part. He challenged me in a way no one else had ever even dared.
“Rory?”
I tore my gaze from the tile samples spread out in front of me and glanced over my shoulder. Nash stood in the doorway, his tool belt slung low on his hips and a stack of wood braced over his right shoulder. The way he had to secure it with both hands allowed a sliver of skin to peek out between the hem of his T-shirt and the waistband of his jeans. Not enough for me to really see anything good, but enough for me to remember.
My stomach flipped when I realized that I knew what his skin looked like beneath the material and had mapped every dip and valley of his muscles with questing hands. Knew what it felt like to have all that weight pressing down on me while he kissed me and whispered to me and thrust inside me. I could barely restrain a shudder from racking my body.
“Hey, you still with me?”
I snapped my eyes up to his, my cheeks flushing at the single raised eyebrow he greeted me with. Yep, he’d definitely caught me staring, and I had no doubt that every bit of my completely inappropriate thoughts was written all over my face. Thank heavens I had the wits enough not to say them aloud while we were in a client’s home. That was a line I wouldn’t allow myself to cross. I had to have some dignity.
Swallowing hard, I met his gaze, hoping my need wasn’t broadcast through my eyes. “What can I do for you?”
He stared at me for a beat too long, and I felt the heat of his gaze straight between my legs. How could a single look have me longing for so much more?
Finally, he patted the wood he held over his shoulder. “Just wanted to verify Miss Sally decided to put these in the master before I haul ’em all back there.”
Sally Ward, our fourth client, had been back and forth on which wall she’d wanted covered in the gorgeous reclaimed wood, but I had eventually convinced her that the master bedroom was the way to go. Never mind that it was exactly what I’d told her at our original consultation.
“Yep. But you might wanna hurry and get those up before she changes her mind again. There’s no tellin’ with that one.”
“I’m on it, boss.” He winked at me before strolling down the hallway toward the bedroom, mindful of the load he carried as he went.
I’d never been one to ogle men. Sean hadn’t ever been much to look at, and I’d just never before felt the need. But watching Nash walk away, his tight ass cupped perfectly in those well-worn jeans, his shoulders flexing even through the cotton of his T-shirt as he hefted the wood… Sweet fancy Moses. I leaned backward just to be able to catch every last glimpse of him I could until he disappeared through the doorway at the end of the hall.
As soon as he was out of sight, I shook my head and twisted back to focus on the tile samples in front of me. If we were going to keep on track with our future bookings—yes, plural —then I needed to stay on task and stop lusting after my… my…what? Friend with benefits? Fuck buddy? I sort of hated both of those terms, especially in relation to Nash and me. They belittled what we’d been doing together. At least for me…
It’d come to be about so much more than sex. He’d managed to pull me out of my shell, had introduced me to so many other facets of myself. Ones I hadn’t even known were there. Ones I’d been too scared or nervous or embarrassed to explore—both sexually and personally.
Nash strolled out of the bedroom, his eyes clear as he watched me, as if the whole sexually charged incident from minutes ago had never happened. “What’s her current stance on adding the beams to the living room?”
I nodded once. “Still in favor. Though I suggest you move fast with that too.”
He grinned. “I’ll bring ’em tomorrow and make sure a couple guys can come help me with ’em. Hopefully she won’t change her mind in the next twelve hours.”
“Even though she’s stayin’ at her sister’s and not even supposed to be over here, you never know with her.”
Nash pulled his phone from his back pocket to glance at the time. Could’ve been three in the afternoon or eight at night—didn’t matter to me. Ava and Ella were at Sean’s tonight, and that meant an empty house to go home to.
Some days, it didn’t bother me, but others, all that quiet pressed down on me so hard I could scarcely breathe. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to not lying with my girls before bed and talking about their days. Not being able to tuck them in and kiss their foreheads every night. The loss made my chest ache.
When my empty house was too much to bear, I just…didn’t go home. I worked late or I went to one of my sisters’ places or I popped into The Willow Tree under the guise of looking for Will or chatting with Mac if she was working.
“You about done here?” Nash asked.
I shrugged, running my fingers over one of the tiles. “I’ll probably stick around for a bit so I can get this narrowed down for her. Better for everyone involved if I only give her two to choose from.”
He laughed under his breath, tucked his phone into his pocket, and folded his arms over his chest. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I—what?”
“Food, princess. Have you eaten today?”
I furrowed my brow, thought about it, and…nope, I sure hadn’t. I’d forgotten completely, which sometimes tended to happen when I got into the groove. “I’m fine.”
“Course you are. You’re Rory Haven. You’re always fine.” He stepped closer…close enough that my nipples perked up at his proximity. “But you can’t run forever on empty. Why don’t you put down the tiles for a while and come with me to The Willow Tree?”
I opened and closed my mouth several times, never quite able to produce actual words. Was he asking me out on a date? I had no earthly idea. It’d been nearly fifteen years since I’d been asked out on one, and I was woefully out of touch. But was that even what this was? Or was it just a friendly invitation between two coworkers—who happened to know what the other looked like naked—to grab a bite to eat?
“Ah, got it,” Nash said before I had a chance to respond.
“Nash, I didn’t?—”
He waved my concerns away with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was just supper, Rory, but I get it. Nothing public.”
“But that’s—” I clamped my mouth shut to keep the denial from spilling out because, yeah, that was exactly what we should be doing.
He stepped even closer until our bodies were flush, rested his hand so low on my back, his fingertips grazed my bottom, and brought his lips to rest against my ear. “Don’t worry, princess. I have no plans to stop fucking you, even if it’s only in secret.” He turned his head, his lips just a whisper along my neck, and then he walked out the front door.
I had to reach back to brace myself on the counter just to keep from collapsing into a puddle on the floor. Nash had absolutely no problem getting my blood flowing or making me crave him every minute of the day.
But he was right—what we had needed to be kept a secret. If Nash and I walked into the only bar in Havenbrook, even to do something as innocent as share a meal, I had no doubt what’d come next—more talk, more whispers, more barely concealed finger-pointing. The townspeople had only just begun to move on from gossiping about my divorce every chance they got.
And I had no intention of being thrust back into the limelight again.