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“You might need a plumber to look at that. Here,” I say, passing her a different robe I find hanging on the back of the door. It is thicker and longer than the other one, and I give her my back as she puts it on. Once she is clothed, I walk over to her and gather her under her arms, lifting her off the floor. She smells amazing. Fresh, floral, and it dawns on me that she is completely naked under this robe.
“I can walk,” she mumbles, the anger we both had having dissipated. Her hands wrap around my shoulders, the fight all but left her.
“I know,” I tell her, not wanting her to think she can’t handle anything, because she can. Shit, just moving here on her own is enough to show me she is fiercely independent and capable. I put her back into her room on her feet near the bed. She sucks in a breath as her hands slowly run down my neck from where she was holding me, and we stand facing each other, and she looks up at me like she is trying to figure me out.
The air around us is thick. I try to ignore the feel of her soft body and the way her wet hair falls in waves down her back, making her look like aSports Illustratedmodel who is walking out of the ocean.
“Thank you. I think I’ve got it now,” she says, her voice low and breathy, and I immediately step away, nodding.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I confirm before walking out of her bedroom, closing the door behind me, and taking a big breath.
I head straight to the kitchen, seeing her laptop, files,and rough sketches on the counter. I pick one up. It is a sketch design of a kitchen, and it looks amazing. She has the whole room opened up in an open-plan style, her eye for detail and her spatial awareness not something that can be easily replicated. There is another sketch of an outdoor love seat. Looks like she has plans to place it on the porch. The design is a little different than what you would normally see. More of an oval with soft edges, and I stare at it, appreciating her design skills. I know just by looking at it that it will blend in well with the outdoor area and also complement the house.
My cell vibrates in my pocket again, calling me back to reality.
It’s Connor.
“Hey,” I say quietly as I walk around the old kitchen, thinking I will start something for dinner since she will find it difficult to do it herself tonight. She is exhausted.
“Where are you?” he asks, sounding concerned.
“The neighbor’s house,” I murmur, not really concentrating on his question as I have tunnel vision to get food for Victoria. I look inside the cupboards, pulling out some dried pasta that I can cook up quickly for her.
“The neighbor? Lacy has been trying to call you all day. No one knew where you were…” His concern changes to relief, but I can hear his curiosity.
“She hurt herself,” I say, boiling the water and diving back into the cupboard for some sauce that I can use. I spot some ready made in a jar, and deciding not to poke around in her cupboard further, I pull that out, a basic pasta meal now in the works.
“Is she okay?” Connor asks.
“She hurt her foot and can’t really walk. I’m just locking up the animals.”
“Yeah, yeah, just doing the neighborly thing, I am sure,” Connor teases, and I sigh.
“Son. I need to ask a favor.” The heaviness I thought I would feel in my shoulders at changing business strategy doesn’t present like expected.
“What’s up?”
“Tell Sawyer to rip up the adverse possession.” I know that is the right thing to do. She has plans here, plans to make this house and home and to maybe even stay here. I rub my eyes, the feeling of not going after the thing I want nipping at me. But the image of her sexy-as-sin body wrapped in that towel imprints on the back of my eyelids, so it is all I see whenever I close my eyes, reminding me that there is now something else I am interested in.
“Are you sure? I mean, we have planned on having that land for months now.” He is pushing me to look at all angles. It is the smart, sensible thing to do. But I know what is right, and I need to leave Marie’s place alone and go with expanding my business on another parcel of land.
“I’m sure. Make the call,” I confirm.
“Fine. Our plan B is just as good anyway. I’ll call Sawyer now. I’m coming home tomorrow. I managed to get everything sorted this afternoon while you were playing nurse,” Connor says, and I smile as I stir the pasta.
“See you then.” We end the call just as I hear her.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you.” I look up,seeing her in her sweats, her hair piled high on her head, her face makeup-free and gorgeous. She’s like all my dreams rolled into one.
Breathe, Tanner. Just breathe.Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I cooked for a woman. As a teenager, I never cooked for Connor's mom. I was too shell-shocked that we were pregnant, and we were still kids ourselves, our own parents managing those type of chores. When Connor arrived, she ran out of town so quickly, there was no time to play domesticated family together. I have dated, sure, but I go out for dinners, never cooking for anyone.
“You’ve got to eat,” I say, wondering if I sound as bad as I think I do.
“Thank you. Kitchen has seen better days, hasn’t it?” she says, hobbling a little easier now as she pulls a stool at the counter to sit and watch me.
“I saw your design. It's pretty good,” I tell her, and she smiles, and if that doesn’t make me want to tell her jokes every damn minute I'm with her, I don’t know what will. We have been too busy arguing, and I never really saw her smile up close. Not at me, anyway. Her whole face lights up.
“Thanks. I love interiors and designing new spaces.”
