Twelve
ELISE
“Knock, knock!” I call through the open door as I walk into my aunt’s beach house. Well, my beach house now.
My breath hitches as I stare at Smith, the muscles in his bare chest flexed and rippling as he smashes through the avocado green laminate countertop. A light sheen of sweat glistens on his tanned skin, and I can’t believe a man this gorgeous is interested in middle-aged me.
He glances up from the pile of rubble, a grin spreading over his face. “Hey, beautiful. Want to join in?” He nods at a sledgehammer in the corner and I laugh.
“You think I’m strong enough?”
“No doubt. It’s all in the technique. Grab the hammer and the extra goggles, and I’ll show you.”
I set my bag down, exchanging it for the hammer, and slide the clear safety goggles on.
“Good look, I’m sure,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“Sexy.” Smith winks at me and a flash of pleasure zips through me. I love the relationship we’ve created in the past week. He’s cute and funny and sexy as hell, always encouraging me.
Basically, the exact opposite of Harry the Horrible.
“Come here.” Smith winds his arms around my back, pressing his hips up against mine, his breath warm on my shoulder.
“Make sure your core is tight.” He runs a flattened palm across my middle, and I flex beneath his touch.
“Good. Same with your glutes. Now you’re going to twist and swing from your core, keeping your arms loose.
” He grips my hips, twisting me around and I lift the hammer up, careful to avoid smashing him in his face.
“Like this?” I ask, peeking over my shoulder.
He nods. “Exactly. Now I’m going to get out of your way and you go ahead and smash things up.”
Smith moves around to the other side of the counter, and I concentrate hard, furrowing my brow and following all the steps he told me. The hammer flies through the air and green linoleum cracks when I make contact, splintering beneath the blow.
“Nice! You’re a pro already,” Smith says, grinning.
I giggle. “I had a good teacher.”
Smith comes back to my side of the counter and we work in tandem for the next thirty minutes, until the entire surface is demolished.
“Great work, Elise,” Smith says, laying his hammer down and removing his glasses. He grabs my hammer as well, lifting the goggles from my eyes. With the pad of his thumb, he gently wipes a bead of sweat from my cheek. “You’re a natural. Maybe you can come to all my jobs with me.”
I smile as he grabs my hips, pulling me toward him and dropping his lips to mine.
“I do like watching you work, especially with your shirt off,” I say, running my hands over his taut pecs.
“I can make that happen every day if you want.” He slides his tongue into my mouth, sending a ripple of lust straight to my core.
“I very much like the sound of that,” I murmur into his open mouth and he cups my ass, squeezing. We kiss right there in the kitchen, the sound of the ocean behind us, and happiness blooms in my chest. Smith slides a hand up my shirt, palming my breast and my nipples pebble beneath his touch.
“What the fuck?”
A booming, familiar voice startles me, and I jump away from Smith so fast I might have pulled a muscle.
“Harry! What are you doing here?” I cry, pulling my shirt down as my face sears in shame. The last thing I need Harry to see is me making out with Smith.
“I had to come down early. I sent you a text, but now I see why you never answered.” He shoots Smith a dirty look, puffing up his chest.
“Mommy?” Cami appears in the doorway, Colton right behind her.
Super. I wasn’t going to introduce them to Smith yet, but here we are, courtesy of Harry and his shitty planning.
“Hey, guys. This is Smith.” I nod at him and he gives a little wave. Smith stands several feet away from me now, sensing this is the proper thing to do. “The contractor.”
“Nice, Elise,” Harry mutters under his breath, and my stomach knots even as I shoot him an eat-shit-and-die look. He’s one to talk, considering he’s HR’s worst nightmare.
“I’m assuming you’re not staying in this dump.” Harry spins in a circle, taking in the construction zone, a scowl on his face.
“No, Harry, I’m not. I have a great hotel room. Kids, you’re going to love it. The pool’s right on the ocean!” I turn to them, infusing enthusiasm into my voice. “Why don’t you guys check out the bedrooms here for a minute while I move your stuff to my car?”
The kids run across the room, heading down the hallway, and I grab Harry by the elbow, dragging him out of the house and down the wobbly steps.
“What the hell? You could have called earlier and told me you were coming, Harry,” I say, unlocking my SUV.
“Sorry to break up your little rendezvous. I can’t fucking believe you, Elise. The contractor? And how old is he? Twelve?” Harry sneers, his face uglier than I remembered.
“For your information, thirty. Not that I owe you one. Older than your office sidepiece.” Bitter acid rises in my throat as I spit out the words.
“She’s not a sidepiece, Elise. She’s my fiancée. We’re getting married. In September.”
I freeze, working hard to process these words.
Fiancée. Married. September.
My mouth opens, shuts, then opens again, like I’m a guppy on land, gasping for air.
So it’s true. Harry really is moving on.
“Wow. That’s fast,” I say, my voice quiet.
Although I shouldn’t care, his words still sting.
He ignores my jab. “I wanted you to hear it from me. I already told the kids.”
“You told the kids? You’re a real shithead, you know that, Harry?”
“And that’s why we’re divorced, Elise. Because you never valued me.”
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur. Sure, that’s the issue.
“You need help with the kids’ stuff, Elise?” Smith walks over, stepping between me and Harry. He’s taller than Harry by a good six inches, and much broader, making Harry seem small in contrast.
“I can get it,” Harry says, squaring his shoulders.
“Happy to help.” Smith smiles affably.
“Mommy!” Colton calls from the front porch and I hesitate, nervous to leave the two men alone.
“Just one sec, Colty. Be right there.” I hold up a finger.
“Go ahead, I’ve got this.” Smith squeezes my shoulder, and Harry’s eyes light on his hand, deep lines etching his brow.
“Okay, thanks.” I spin on my heel and move toward the house, a tension headache building. “Go find your sister and I’ll take you down to the beach.” Colton runs to find Cami as I climb the steps, Harry’s voice carrying on the wind.
“Smith, is it?”
“Yeah. And you’re Harry. The ex.”
“Good riddance,” Harry grounds out the words, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
Dickhead.
I slow my pace, straining to hear the rest of the conversation.
“I disagree,” Smith says, his voice confident.
“Why would a good-looking young guy like you be settling for sloppy seconds?” Harry says, and a hot rage bubbles up inside me.
How dare Harry get involved in my relationship? I held up my end of the bargain and didn’t reach out — not even one time — to his new girlfriend.
I duck into the house, but peer out the window as the two men square up in the driveway.
“That’s how you talk about the mother of your children?” Smith asks, his fists clenching at his sides. “Elise was too nice when she talked about you.”
“But she is still talking about me,” Harry chides, stepping forward into Smith’s space.
Smith rolls his shoulders back, glaring down at Harry. “It’s nothing good, asshole. Now get the fuck out of here before I punch you in the face. The only reason I haven’t yet is out of respect for Elise and her kids.”
Harry huffs and puffs for a minute, not sure what to do, then shoves a suitcase at Smith’s chest and stomps back to his Porsche.
Smith waves as Harry peels out of the driveway, and I sag back against the paneled wall.
Harry’s right. Why is Smith wasting his time with me? He has no idea what he’s getting into. Why would anyone in their right mind want to get involved in this mess? Harry alone is enough to make a normal person run the opposite direction.
I should let Smith go before I rope him in any further. The last thing I want is for him to get hurt.
My chest aches at the thought, but I know what I need to do.
Even if my heart is broken, at least he can be happy. A guy as great as Smith deserves that.