13. Now, We Need Some Ground Rules
Now, We Need Some Ground Rules
Doug
‘You have got to be fucking kidding me, Jess,’ I hiss angrily as my day is made worse by the presence of Satan’s lovechild.
‘I have a date.’
‘Well, isn’t that nice.’ I roll my eyes and turn to make sure the door is closed, and that Bo can’t hear this conversation . ‘Why is it you get to do whatever the fuck you want, and I just have to sit here waiting for instruction?’
‘Because, Doug, you didn’t wear a condom and put your dick in me and ruined my fucking life.’
I see red.
‘Get off my porch.’ I snap. ‘That’s your daughter you’re talking about, Jessie.’
‘Tonight, she’s your daughter,’ she calls out as she climbs into her car, and anger vibrates out of me.
What happened this morning with Cara put me in a bad fucking mood, worse than usual, and if it weren’t for the she-demon driving away from my mom’s house right now, it never would have happened. Shit, if it wasn’t for Jessie’s bullshit ultimatums, I might have even made contact with the old me—the one that was confident with women and liked getting fucking laid—and actually made a move on Cara. Instead, I let her think I don’t like her while I wait for Jessie to tell me just how high she wants me to jump.
‘Daddy, it’s starting.’
Bowie’s sweet voice behind me has me gripping the railing and taking deep breaths. My baby girl is waiting for me to watch a movie with her, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. I have a good job starting in a matter of days. One that’s going to give me enough money to get that little girl under my roof permanently. I just need to toe the line until then.
Play Jessie’s game and stay the hell away from Cara. I can do this.
‘I made you breakfast, honey,’ Mama says with a huge smile on her face when I enter the kitchen.
‘I helped.’ Bowie beams next to her, and I grin, leaning in to kiss my baby’s head.
‘Thank you, guys.’
We sit together at the table, and Mama reaches over to squeeze my hand.
‘Big day, honey.’ I nod in agreement. ‘I’m so proud of you. Your daddy would be so proud of you.’
I hear the break in her voice—the croak of emotion at the memory of my dad. We always used to talk about the Reynolds’ house and how much we loved it. I know he’d be proud, but more than that, he’d be so goddam excited to see me finally getting my hands on it.
I take a deep breath.
‘It’s just day one, nothing too big is happening today.’
‘It’s day one, honey,’ I look up and meet my mom’s watery gaze. ‘Day one of the rest of your life.’
Crazy how my future is so tied up in a house that’s not even mine, but it is. I need this house and this job to go well so that I can set everything right in my life.
This is day one, and I can’t wait to get started.
Cara isn’t at the house when I arrive. I wanted to offer to give her a ride, but that went against my plan to keep away from her, so I didn’t. Letting her walk up here doesn’t sit right with me, but she’s my employer, not my girlfriend, so it’s not my business.
We still haven’t agreed on the final plans for the house, but initially, I need to turn this old shell of a house into something safe, secure, and functional so I get to work. I’ll have to bring in some other guys at some point, but right now, I just want to get my hands dirty and work until my body aches.
I stop at lunchtime, sweaty and dirty, surprised there’s still no sign of Cara. My mind starts to run through scenarios of her being hit by a car on the way up here, and I’m about to get in my truck and go looking for her when I see her approaching the house from my spot on the front steps.
Staying away from this woman is going to be harder than I thought. She’s fucking beautiful.
She turns up in jeans that are a little baggy and rolled up at the ankle above her Converse and a gray t-shirt that fits her just right. Her hair is tied in two braids, and her cheeks are a little pink from the walk up here and, Lord, I apologize for the thoughts I’m having, but you can’t put a woman like that right in front of me after years of abstinence and expect me to not dream about burying myself in her.
‘Hello,’ she says as she comes to a stop in front of me, and I lower my gaze to the remains of the sandwich in my hand.
‘Hey.’
‘Sorry I wasn’t here this morning. Your sisters convinced me to drink with them again last night, and well, I’m sure you know how that went. They are either a very bad influence, or I am very impressionable.’
She smiles so fucking sweetly, and I feel my jaw tighten. I knew Bree and Zoe were going to the bar last night, but I didn’t know Cara was with them again. Cara and basically every man in this town, the fucking asshole construction workers included—the construction workers staying in cabins right next to hers.
‘Good night?’ I grunt, not wanting the details.
‘Really good, although my head would not agree.’
She grins as she opens her bottle of water and takes a sip, and my focus trains on her throat. The motion of her swallowing has me rubbing my hand over my face hoping for an intervention.
‘Well, you don’t really need to be here,’ I push up to standing and turn back to the house. ‘It’s just ripping out and clearing down right now.’
‘I want to help.’ Her voice is strong and full of that pep she seems to have in spades.
‘Cara.’ I turn to look at her, finding her close behind me, and I take a step back. ‘No disrespect here, but this is tough, nasty, dirty work. You’re paying me to do a job. Just let me do it.’
‘I will not get in your way, but I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty, and I’m stronger than I look. Put me to work. Humor me, give me an hour, then I’ll get out of your way.’
She smirks, fucking smirks, and it undoes me. I release a low growl of all the different kinds of frustration I’m feeling and do as she asks.
‘That was fun.’
I glance across to a beaming Cara. She’s sweaty and dirty, and her once-neat braids are now messy, with hair coming out in all directions. She looks elated and ridiculously gorgeous.
She is stronger than she looks, and as she said, she’s not afraid of getting her hands dirty. She didn’t shy away from anything I asked her to do. I didn’t once catch her wiping her hands or checking for bugs before she picked something up. If something was too heavy or awkward, she simply asked for my help, no big song or dance about it. Something about the way she worked with me today reminded me of my mom and my sisters. Cara has these innocent eyes and an ever-present smile that makes her look like she’s this sweet little thing that needs protecting, but I was wrong. She is sweet, definitely, and she has these little quirky ways about her that I want to get to know, but she’s tough too, resilient, and she’s becoming harder to resist by the minute.
‘Glad you thought so. Now, we need some ground rules.’ I push up from the steps and turn to face her. ‘You employed me to do a job. I know this is your house, but if you want me to get it done, please let me get it done. I can’t work if I’m constantly having to supervise you.’ She opens her mouth to protest, but I double down. I need her not to be in my space all the time. I can’t stay away from her if she’s always right there. ‘Cara, this is a construction site now. It’s dangerous and going to get more so, the more work I do. You are the owner, not a worker. I can’t keep you safe here—my responsibility to every person who steps onto this site—and be expected to get the job done. You need to stay away until I tell you it’s safe to come up. Can we agree on that?’
‘But, if I’m not here, what am I going to do?’
The expression on her face is not one I expected to see. That strong, joyful woman is suddenly a lost little girl. I remember at that moment she just left her whole life to move here. She doesn’t have a job or family here.
‘I don’t know. Get a job, go spend some of that Reynolds money, stay in bed all day watching movies, go shopping, or get your nails done. I know you want to feel useful, but you can’t be here all the time. I can’t work with you around.’ I tried to soften the words, I tried to make them less of a blow, but I see the impact.
She stands and brushes her hands against the denim covering her thighs.
‘Got it.’ She starts to walk away.
‘Cara,’
‘Nope, it’s fine. I forgot for a moment that you’ve made your feelings about me clear, so I’ll leave you to it.’
I call after her as she walks away. ‘Let me drive you back to town.’
‘I have working legs, Doug. I’m capable of walking.’
And then she’s gone, back in the direction she came, and I realize every time I watch this woman walk away, I’m left feeling like a complete asshole.
As the hot water beats down on the back of my neck, I press my forehead against the tiles. The heat and the pressure feel good, but somehow, the tension there won’t release. I have the house to myself. Bowie is with Jessie tonight, and Mama is staying over at Merv’s, so my music is on loud, but not even Aerosmith is making me feel better tonight.
‘ Alexa, skip the track .’ I call out, but she doesn’t hear me. I wait for the end of the track, and before long, my favorite song starts up. That’s something, at least.
I inhale the steam and reach for the soap, squeezing it onto my hands and starting to lather up my skin, washing off the dirt and grime from a hard day of satisfying work. I loved getting my hands on that house, finally. I’m exhausted, but I already can’t wait to get back there tomorrow.
I used my body in a way I haven’t in so long, and I already ache, but damn if it doesn’t feel good. It’s the other ache that’s the problem. Cara.
Everything she says and does surprises me. Just a few days ago, she showed up out of nowhere and pissed me off. Now the tables have turned, and I’m the one wiping the smile off her face.
She really believes I don’t like her. I know that’s how it needs to be for me, but damn, I want to show her how wrong she is.
I blow out a breath when my pulse quickens at the memory of her working her little ass off in those jeans.
She was on her hands and knees, working on the busted-up floorboards. I should have been working, but I couldn’t focus. The thought of taking her right there kept me dangerously distracted, and I went over and over scenarios, imagining pulling those jeans down to her knees and sinking into that sweet pussy. Fuck .
My dick hardens, and I grip it, the soap making it agonizingly slick. I close my eyes and give in to the thought of her big eyes looking up at me while I fill her pretty mouth. I fist my cock, unable to stop myself now. I’m too far gone.
‘Jesus.’ I hiss, feeling the familiar pull of pleasure as I squeeze my eyes tight. I shouldn’t be thinking of her this way, but this isn’t the first time I have. Every morning when I shower, at night when I lay awake, I pull on my cock, imagining it’s her. Imagining her moans as I bury myself inside her. Imagining the tears in her eyes as she gags on my length but takes it anyway.
I exhale loudly, leaning forward against the tiles and resting my forearm there for stability as I pump harder, faster, and finally, I come, exploding with a loud groan of sheer fucking ecstasy.
I breathe hard, accepting the reality: fucking my own hand while imagining her is as close as I can ever come to losing myself in the woman I can’t stop thinking about.