Chapter 3
LUCA
“Iswear I’m not a stalker.”
Those were the first words out of my mouth as we stood in the entry to a small shed on my property. The shed was a pottery barn—an actual workshop for making pottery, not the furniture store. The stalker part was that the far wall had shelves holding about a dozen of her creations.
“I inherited all this property when my parents died,” I said, “along with a bunch of money. It all started when I needed an urn for my mom’s ashes. You custom-made one for me, even though you didn’t normally do urns.”
She looked over at me, eyes wide. “That was you?”
I nodded. “Her favorite flower was—”
“Daisies,” Melanie finished for me. “I remember. I’ve only done one urn.”
“You didn’t have it as an option, but you had that whole daisy collection. I bought a few other items that I have in my house, and I just kept supporting you.”
She gestured at the wall of her pottery. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah, this was under a different name. My real name.
I felt like I was getting to know you through your work, so I kept ordering.
I wanted to talk to you, get to know you, but I didn't know how to start a conversation as just another customer. So I created Lumberjack47. You reached out to ask me a question about one of my orders, and we started chatting and, well, here we are.”
She studied me for a long moment, and I couldn’t read her expression. Then her lips curved into a slow smile.
“Here we are,” she said.
Our eyes met and held, and I felt something shift in me. It went beyond admiring her from afar, beyond imagining what it would be like to kiss her, to put my arms around her and pull her close to me, to feel her naked body beneath mine.
Here we were, standing inches apart in the dim glow of the barn’s single overhead light, the air thick with the scent of clay and her perfume.
I didn’t wait. I cupped her face and kissed her, slow and deep, swallowing her gasp. Her fingers clutched my shirt, pulling me closer. The kiss turned feverish, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. My hands slid under her shirt, tracing the dip of her waist. She shivered, then yanked at my flannel.
“Off,” she demanded.
I obeyed, shrugging free before pulling her top over her head. The pale lace of her bra contrasted with her flushed skin. I unhooked it with one hand, my mouth already on her throat.
“Luca—” Her breath hitched as I palmed her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers before sealing my lips around it. She gasped, fingers knotting in my hair as I worshipped her—licking, biting, devouring—until her knees buckled.
I caught her, lifting her onto the edge of the craft table. Her jeans and panties were gone in one swift tug, my hands spreading her thighs as I dropped to my knees.
Her scent was intoxicating. I pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then higher, dragging my tongue through her slick heat. She jerked, a cry tearing from her lips as I found her clit.
Her hips lifted, desperate. “Fuck—”
I hooked her legs over my shoulders, holding her steady as I feasted. Two fingers slid inside her, curling just right while my tongue circled her clit. She writhed, her moans pitching higher and tighter.
Then she cried out, her thighs clamping around my head as she came with a gasping breath. As she recovered, she pushed me back, her eyes dark with hunger.
“I want to see what we’re working with,” she said.
She slid off the table, her hands already at my waistband. My cock strained against my boxers, aching for her touch. She freed me with a slow tug, her breath catching.
“God,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around me.
I hissed, my hips jerking. Her thumb swiped over the head, smearing precum, and I nearly lost it right there. Then her mouth was on me. Hot. Wet. Perfect.
I groaned, fists clenching at my sides as she took me deeper, her tongue swirling around the head. Every nerve in my body screamed “too good, too much” but I couldn’t stop her. Didn’t want to.
Her lips stretched around me, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked. My vision blurred.
“Melanie—”
She hummed, the vibration shooting straight to my spine. My thighs trembled. I was close, too close, and—
“Wait.” I tangled my fingers in her hair, gently tugging her back.
She blinked up at me, lips glistening. “You don’t like it?”
“Fuck, I do.” My voice was raw. “Too much. If you keep going, I won’t last.”
A slow, wicked smile curled her mouth. “Maybe that’s the point.” She leaned in again, but I stopped her, lifting her chin. “Do you have protection?”
Her breath faltered. “No. Do you?”
“Wallet. My jeans.”
She reached for them, rifling through before handing me the foil packet. I tore it open, but her fingers closed over mine.
“Let me.”
Her touch was agonizingly slow as she rolled on the condom, her thumb brushing the tip. I gritted my teeth, fighting for control. Then voices echoed outside.
We froze.
“Luca? You in here?”
Shit.
I yanked on my flannel, not bothering with the buttons, while Melanie frantically smoothed down her hair. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, and there was no way Bobbi wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I called out, stepping slightly in front of Melanie.
The door creaked open and Bobbi appeared, clipboard in hand. She stopped short when she saw us. Her gaze flicked from my half-buttoned shirt to Melanie’s rumpled appearance, and her eyebrows shot up.
“Oh,” she said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “I was looking for you about the cleanup schedule, but I can see you’re…busy.”
Melanie made a small, mortified sound behind me.
“What do you need?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Just wanted to confirm the vendor pickup times for tomorrow morning.” Bobbi’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “But maybe I should come back later? Give you two a chance to finish your business meeting?”
“Bobbi—” I started, but she held up a hand.
“No need to explain. Your property, your rules.” She winked at Melanie, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. “Just remember, the festival grounds are still technically open to vendors until midnight. Might want to lock the door next time.”
With that, she turned and headed back toward the entrance, calling over her shoulder.
“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Luca. Have a good evening, you two.”
The door closed behind her with a decisive click.
Melanie buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God. She knows. Everyone’s going to know.”
“Melanie—”
“This is a disaster.” She peeked at me through her fingers. “She’s going to tell everyone that I slept with the property owner to get my partnership deal. My reputation is ruined before I even start.”
I moved closer, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “Hey, look at me.”
Her brown eyes were wide with panic.
“Bobbi’s not going to say anything. She’s not like that.”
“You don’t know what people will think. That I’m just some opportunist who—”
“Stop.” I cupped her face, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Anyone who spends five minutes with you knows you’re not like that. Your work speaks for itself. This partnership isn’t about what just happened between us.”
“Isn’t it?” she whispered.
The vulnerability in her voice hit me like a punch to the gut.
“No. It’s about your talent, your vision, your passion for what you create.
Everything I felt when I first discovered your work online—that was real.
Before I knew what you looked like, before I knew anything about you except that you made art that spoke to my soul. ”
She searched my face, some of the panic fading from her eyes.
“This thing between us,” I continued, “it’s separate. It’s bigger than business. And if you want to call off the partnership to keep things simple, I’ll understand. But don’t do it because you think I don’t believe in you.”
“I don’t want to call it off,” she said quietly. “I want both. The partnership and…this.”
Relief flooded through me. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, Melanie. Not now that I’ve found you.”
She bit her lip, a small smile finally breaking through. “So what happens now?”
I glanced around the pottery barn, then back at her. “Now? We go to my house and finish what we started. Properly. With a locked door and no interruptions.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, but her smile widened. “Lead the way, Lumberjack47.”
I laughed, taking her hand and heading for the door. “I think you can call me Luca now.”
“I don’t know.” She squeezed my fingers. “I kind of like having my own personal lumberjack.”
As we stepped out into the cool autumn night, smiles on our faces, my mind was already working overtime. I had to get her alone again. I had to finish what we’d just started. But first, I’d remove this condom as soon as we got back to my cabin. Luckily, I had plenty more where that one came from.