Chapter 3
Emilia
“My God, you all weren’t kidding,” Haden comments as he passes me at the top of the stairs. “There’s no rhyme or reason to the hallways and doors.”
“Exactly. As people move in, they wander around up here, decide which rooms they like, and claim them.”
“Show me yours.” He doesn’t look at me as he makes that request. He just keeps moving forward.
This takes me by surprise. “Uhhh…”
He glances over his shoulder. “What? Is that a problem?”
I practically have to skip to keep up with him, and when I reach his side, he looks at me and slows as if suddenly realizing his legs are much longer than mine. He did this outside, too.
I’m not that short. I’m five-two. Has the man never walked alongside an average-sized woman before?
Maybe not. I know very little about Haden.
He comes to Brody’s house for the holidays because he doesn’t have family in San Antonio.
But I don’t have a clue how many girlfriends he’s had or even if he’s been married.
I’m pretty confident he doesn’t have a wife or any other serious woman in his life at the moment because if he does, she’s still in Texas.
Unless he’s planning on having her join him later…
The idea makes me shudder inside.
He’s still looking at me, an eyebrow lifted, reminding me he asked me a question.
“Oh, my room. Right. Sure. But I’m warning you. I’m not tidy. I probably left it a mess.”
He smirks. “Why am I not surprised?”
It’s my turn to narrow my gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “You’re a bit of a jitterbug. Full of energy. I don’t picture you being tidy. I bet your dorm room was a hot mess, but you knew exactly where your chemistry notes were. Probably on a yellow napkin tucked under a plant that needed water.”
It’s impossible not to spin to the side and give him a playful shove. “That’s so specific.” I’m unnerved. For one thing, I’m stunned that he’s so spot-on. For another thing, I had no idea the man paid so much attention to me.
“I’ll have you know the napkins were off-white because that’s what they had in the cafeteria, and I only used them when I suddenly needed to jot something down that I needed to remember.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me again. This time I’m touching him. I didn’t lower my hands after I pushed his arm. “But I was right about the plant?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, but I never took chemistry.” I stick my tongue out at him and stomp off down the hall.
This is the most I’ve ever engaged with him.
In the past, when he was around, there were always other people with us.
Both my brothers, for one thing. Sometimes, other friends of theirs.
I’ve never been alone with Haden like this.
When I reach my room, I take a deep breath. I honestly have no idea what state I left it in. The thought that Haden might see it at some point never entered my mind.
Here goes nothing…
I cringe as soon as I open the door and then rush forward to gather up the clothes that are strewn on the floor, including my bras and panties. My face heats as I try to minimize the chaos.
“Interesting…” Haden comments as he barges in behind me.
I groan and continue snatching clothes before carrying them all to the attached bathroom and stuffing them in the hamper. Why didn’t I just put them in there in the first place? It’s never a priority. I usually make a sweep through and pick up my clothes from the floor when I decide to do laundry.
My bed is unmade, too. It’s kind of hard to insist I’m not a child, considering all evidence leads to the contrary—including my hot-pink bedding—but Haden doesn’t point that out.
He wanders to the window and fiddles with the latch. “Have you tried to open this?”
“No.” After tugging my comforter up over my bunched-up sheets, I join him. I’m frazzled.
Haden tries to lift the window to no avail before dragging a finger along the frame. “I think it’s painted shut. Probably has been for a long time. I wonder if all the windows are like this.”
“Well, there are dozens of rooms in this monstrosity. You’re welcome to check them.” I don’t know why anyone would want that information. Seems boring to me. But I’m not the one who was hired to do renovations. Windows might fascinate Haden.
“Can I see the bathroom?” he asks, ignoring my comment.
I don’t bother to respond because he’s already walking in that direction.
Great. It’s messier in there than out here. Makeup. Hair products. More clothes… I’m a slob.
Haden makes no comment about my slovenliness. He simply moves a few things out of the way and turns on the faucet. He leans close to the vanity to watch the water running out. “How’s the hot water supply?”
“Uh, it’s fine. I assume there are several water heaters.”
He moves closer to the wall and rests his ear next to it as he closes his eyes.
It’s like I’m taking Sherlock Holmes on a tour of a crime scene. I’m surprised he doesn’t whip out a small notepad and an ink pen so he can take notes.
“Do these outlets work?” He points toward them when he finishes listening to the wall. I know he was trying to hear the pipes. They do make a lot of noise. I’m getting used to it.
“Yes.”
“I see they were updated,” he muses as he turns off the water, “but I bet the wiring behind them will make me cringe.”
“Probably.” I haven’t thought much about it. My hairdryer works. That’s all I care about.
“Can I see some of the other rooms?”
“Sure.”
For the next two hours, I lead Haden on a tour of the house. He doesn’t really need me. I’m just tagging along because I’m fascinated by every facet of him. Most of the time, he’s serious and pensive. Occasionally, he cracks a smile, but it’s more of a smirk.
I’m used to smirking men. This house is filled with them.
I should tell Haden I have other things to do and leave him to explore on his own. It would seem he could spend days wandering from room to room, taking in every detail. If he were anyone else, I would be bored out of my skull.
But this is Haden. The man I’ve secretly lusted over for four years. I enjoy watching him. He’s fascinating.
“What about the third floor?” he suddenly asks, jerking his gaze toward me.
I’m kind of shocked he’s even remembered I’m following him around. He hasn’t addressed me in a while. It’s like he goes into his head and zones out, high on the most exciting subject—this mansion’s structural integrity.
“Uh, there is a third floor. Yes.”
He gives me that smirk again. “I could see that from the outside, jitterbug. Let’s go check it out.”
A strange warmth spreads through me when he calls me that new nickname he’s apparently assigned me.
I’m not sure I want him to use it in front of other people, but I doubt he will.
He’s probably just teasing me. Jitterbug is ten times better than squirt, plus Haden came up with it on his own. Not my brothers.
I jump down from the desk I’ve been sitting on in a random room no one has claimed and skip toward the door. “This way.”
He follows me.
“There are several large rooms on the third floor,” I tell him as we climb the stairs. “Tiago claimed one of them for an art studio. He’s a painter. I don’t think we should go in that room unless he or Reagan is with us.”
“Okaaay…”
I giggle at his confusion. “The thing is that Tiago paints a lot of nudes of Reagan. She refuses to let him share most of them.”
“Ah. I see. Well, we won’t go into his studio then.”
I guide Haden into one of the other spaces. It’s mostly empty.
Haden stands in the middle of the room and turns in a slow circle before tipping his head back to examine the ceiling. The man is incredibly intense about his job. I’ve never seen him at work, so I had no idea. It’s always a holiday break when I see him.
Suddenly, he looks at me. “I think we’re done for the day. Thank you so much for the tour. I have a lot to think about. This job is going to be enormous.”
I nod. “Yes. I assume so.”
He glances at his watch. “What time is dinner?”
“Six.”
“Is there a dress code?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Most of us clean up a bit, but we don’t dress fancy or anything. And sometimes we have no choice but to come straight from working hard in a dusty room. It’s no big deal.”
“Good. I think I can make my way back downstairs without getting lost. I should probably find your brother and get moved into the RV before dinner.” He hesitates for a moment and then strides quickly out of the room as if he just remembered he left the burner on in the kitchen.
I’m dizzy from the change in the atmosphere and his absence. It takes me a few minutes before I head back to my room. What a mess. I’m so infatuated with Haden that I can’t think straight. It’s a wonder I’m able to remember where my room is.
After spending several hours watching the man, I’m trembling. His worn jeans fit him like a glove and made his ass look like it belonged to a butt model. He’d been wearing a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and there’s nothing sexier than a man’s forearms.
Gah. I sound like the inside of a romance novel. There’s nothing sexier than a man’s forearms? What the hell? That’s possibly the dumbest thought I’ve ever had. I’ve never paid a bit of attention to any man’s arms, except Haden’s. I paid a lot of attention to his today.
And his hands. The man works hard. I bet his fingers are rough and would feel amazing against my bare skin.
As soon as I’m in my room, I shut and lock the door. I have plenty of time before dinner. I should use it to clean my room and bathroom. Doing laundry. Making my bed properly instead of just pulling the comforter up over the tangled sheets.
Instead, I strip off all my clothes, grab my favorite vibrator from my nightstand, and crawl under the comforter. I’m already panting as I spread my legs, set the blunt end of the toy against my clit, and turn it on.
It takes me about three minutes to orgasm. That’s how much sexual tension I’ve been carrying around for half the day.