Chapter 6
We started our tour in the kitchen. I pointed out a few small things that needed repair: the garbage disposal that was prone to clogs, the dripping pot filler over the stove, the faulty latch on the dishwasher.
Xander’s keen gaze took in each problem, and I could practically see his mind working behind his green eyes, puzzling out the solutions.
I had to admit, he wasn’t behaving like a guy who had a concussion or any other kind of cognitive impairment.
So, once and for all, I let that idea go.
I pushed open the other swinging door that led to the dining room. “And this is where we serve the guests breakfast,” I said, gesturing inside. “When we have guests, that is. We also rent the space out for small parties and such.”
Xander came up beside me to peer through the door at the neat, cozy arrangement of tables and chairs. “Lovely,” he said, right next to my ear.
He was talking about the dining room. And not about me. Nevertheless, I felt a little thrill zip through me as goose bumps rose on my skin.
Lowering my hand to let the door swing closed again, I turned to Xander and smiled. “Thank you.”
He smiled back, his eyes trained on me. I thought I could see the gears of his brain spinning again, but now it seemed like he was trying to puzzle me out. Or maybe puzzle us out—puzzle out the parameters of this new relationship of ours.
Or maybe I just needed to stop making eyes at my new handyman and get on with the damn tour.
I quit my staring, and Xander took a step back.
“And what’s through here?” he asked, indicating the door that led to my family’s private quarters.
“My bedroom,” I said without thinking.
“Is there anything you’d like me to do in there?” he asked.
I bit my bottom lip as his question hung in the air between us.
Quickly, I reminded myself about our little communication gap.
He probably didn’t even realize his words could be construed as having a sexual implication.
Except, the longer we stood here, looking at each other, the more I wondered if maybe he knew exactly what he’d just said.
Was Xander flirting with me?
Or was I reading too much into this?
“Let me show you the back deck,” I said, not-so-smoothly changing the subject. “There’s a lot for you to do out there.”
* * *
Out on the deck, the wind had picked up, bringing the briny marine odor up from the ocean. I hadn’t bothered to grab my coat, so as I gave Xander the ten-cent tour, I folded my arms and huddled my shoulders against the chill. But hey, at least the brisk weather gave me an excuse for my goose bumps.
“You’ve also got some rotting boards out here,” said Xander, squatting down to examine the deck’s flooring.
I nodded. “The railing is a little shaky too.”
He peered up at me. And frowned. “You’re a little shaky,” he said.
“What?” I asked. Then, I realized I was shivering. “Oh, it’s just the cold. I’m—”
In a flash, Xander stood back up. As another gust of coastal wind blew his long hair back like a fashion photographer’s fan, he unzipped the velour track jacket, whipped it off, and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“How’s that?” he asked, his green eyes full of concern.
His hands lingered briefly on my upper arms. When he let me go, I felt the absence of his touch more than I should have.
I snuggled into the jacket, still toasty warm from his body heat, appreciating the kindness of the gesture. And because he was naked again—at least from the waist up—I couldn’t help appreciating other things too. Like his incredible six-pack abs.
Unconsciously, my eyes continued to drift downward.
My father’s old track pants hung low on his hips, revealing a deeply cut V-line.
“Nice,” I said, making what was probably the understatement of the century.
“I mean, thank you,” I added, pulling the velour jacket tighter around me as I forced my gaze back up to his face. “For the jacket.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
It took me a moment—okay, maybe more than a moment—to regain enough self-possession to remember what we were even doing out here.
“Oh,” I said eventually. “And the biggest job in this area is going to be the hot tub.”
“The hot tub?”
I led Xander over to where the large spa sat in the corner of the deck, covered with a tarpaulin for the winter. Apparently, only Xander didn’t require protection from the weather. Although shirtless, he seemed completely unfazed by the cold as he followed me over.
“The hot tub,” I said, indicating the jewel in the crown of any Jersey Shore rental property with a little flourish. “It started malfunctioning toward the end of last summer. I think the water jets are clogged. They stopped firing.”
Xander’s eyes ignited with interest. He bent over to get a closer look, peeking underneath the tarp and surveying the motor. I tried not to gawk, but it was hard to tear my eyes away from the way the muscles rippled beneath the skin of his bare back. I felt almost mesmerized by the movement.
So, while Xander checked out the hot tub, I checked out Xander. Shamelessly. As his ass strained against the seat of the track pants and his waistband slid lower, I found myself silently rooting for plumber’s crack.
God, what was the matter with me? I really wasn’t a shallow person. I wasn’t normally reduced to a puddle of drool just by someone’s appearance.
Although, if I stopped and thought about it, well…
it had been quite some time since I’d had sex.
I hadn’t dated anyone on a regular basis since college.
And while living with my parents was good in a lot of ways, it wasn’t exactly great for my love life.
Yes, I was an adult woman, with an adult woman’s needs and desires.
But the idea of bringing someone back here—back to what was essentially my childhood home—made me feel self-conscious and embarrassed, like a naughty teenager trying to sneak a boy into my bedroom.
It was silly, I knew—but regardless, it was true.
So, over the last few years, aside from one rather steamy vacation fling and a few stray hookups here and there, I’d been keeping my carnal appetites satisfied with a regular diet of romance novels purchased from Rita’s bookshop and a “sexual wellness” device ordered discreetly online and shipped in a plain brown wrapper, so Joey D hadn’t known what he was delivering. Thank. God.
But if this arrangement with Xander was going to succeed, I really needed to find some way to keep my libido in check and maintain a measure of professionalism between us. Still blatantly ogling his naked torso, I set a mental reminder to dig up a few of my father’s old shirts.
After a bit, my new handyman glanced back over his shoulder. “This should work well,” he said with a happy smile and a nod.
I nodded and smiled back. Although my brain was still preoccupied, I translated his statement to mean that he thought he could fix the hot tub.
He stood back up and brushed his palms together. “What else can I get my hands on?” he asked.
To my credit, I did not say any of the naughty replies that popped into my brain.
* * *
Back inside, I returned the jacket to Xander.
Once he was fully clothed again—and I was mostly composed—I continued our tour.
I showed him the main housekeeping closet underneath the stairs where we kept all the tools.
I also pointed out my father’s collection of DIY home fix-it manuals, in case there was something he had to look up.
He surveyed everything with delight, like a kid in one of the boardwalk candy shops.
“And if there’s anything else you need to do the repairs,” I said, “just let me know.”
I gave him a key card so he could access the closet, and I demonstrated how to use it. Then, I led him upstairs to see the guest rooms.
The stairwell was lined with a gallery of old framed photographs that showed the Sunny Side Bed-and-Breakfast in a bygone era.
When I was a girl, these photos of my grandparents and great-grandparents had totally given me the creeps.
I’d been big into fantasy and the supernatural then, and I’d gotten it into my head that these ancestors were watching me.
Judging me. Disapproving of me. Of course, as I’d grown up, I’d gotten over all that.
Mostly, anyway. But today, for some reason, the pictures made me self-conscious.
Brushing it off, I took Xander through the guest quarters.
The rooms were all decorated simply but comfortably in a fresh, beachy palette of blues and whites.
I indicated the windows where I’d noticed some rainwater seeping in.
I also described the various plumbing issues that had been cropping up lately.
Xander listened, asked a few intelligent questions, and basically acted like any contractor would.
And we both ignored the fact that we found ourselves standing alone together in one cozy bedroom after another.
Eventually, I led Xander all the way up the stairway to the fourth and final floor. Unlocking one of the Sunny Side’s two largest guest rooms, I flipped on the lights and motioned for Xander to precede me inside.
This bedroom was dominated by a king-sized four-poster bed crafted in whitewashed wood. There was also a comfy sitting area with a fireplace and a spacious bathroom, but the four-poster was the real star. The bed was impossible to ignore.
Still, I did my best to look anywhere but.
I pointed upward, focusing my gaze on a corner of the ceiling. “I just noticed some staining up here a few days ago, after a thunderstorm,” I said. “I’m afraid the roof might have a leak.”
Xander peered up and nodded sagely. “Water is hard to control,” he said. “It can be like a naughty child. If you give it a chance, it’ll find its way into places it shouldn’t go.”
I looked at him and grinned. It was an interesting analogy, and I liked the way his mind worked. “Sounds like water really is your area of expertise,” I said.
He lowered his eyes and grinned back, flashing that enigmatic smile of his that tugged at my heartstrings, yes, but at my memory too. Once again, I had to wonder if I had met him before. It seemed unlikely I could have forgotten someone so charismatic. And yet, my gut told me I knew him.
Or maybe it was just his effortless charm that made me think so…?
Whatever.
I gave myself a mental shake and returned to the business at hand. “You can take this room,” I told him.
“You want me to sleep here?” he asked.
And just like that, we both turned our attention to that big, inviting bed. I felt heat rise between us. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like it wasn’t just coming from me.
Since the B and B was completely vacant, there was no reason not to give Xander one of the premium rooms. Although, admittedly, I had another motive for keeping him up here on the fourth floor.
I figured it might be wise to maintain some distance between us.
Or whatever distance we could, considering our situation.
“And I’ll be downstairs,” I said, hopefully making the boundaries clear. “On the first floor.”
“Okay,” he said in his agreeable way. But the twinkle in his eyes seemed to say something else.
It made me think he might be like a naughty child too.
Like, if I gave him an opening, he’d find his way into places he shouldn’t go.
Places that needed to be off-limits if this arrangement of ours was going to work.
After all, romantic entanglements made things complicated. And I didn’t need complications right now. This was a pivotal time for me, and what I needed was help with the Sunny Side.
Miraculously, Xander had agreed to give me that help. In exchange for nothing more than a leaky roof over his head and my cooking. I was already getting the better end of this bargain, for sure. I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize things.
I handed him the key card for 401. Then, we both lingered by the doorway.
“Why don’t you relax up here for a while and settle in,” I said. “And I’ll go downstairs and get dinner started.” I paused, trying to remember what I had in the fridge. “Do you have any kind of dietary restrictions? I have some chicken thighs I can make.”
“Then, I look forward to tasting your thighs,” he said.
It could have been an innocent reply. But the twinkle in his eyes was back. And—God help me—the throbbing I felt low and deep inside was anything but innocent.