Page 17 of Oops I Fell For The Electrician Next Door

The mountain casts a long shadow across the water. Sunset colors the opposite shore in copper and rose, and the lake reflects the pines so clearly that the world seems doubled. I have worked in beautiful places before, but I usually see them through a windshield or from the roof of a half-finished building.

"You were right," I say.

Kelsey unwraps her sandwich. "I enjoy those words. What was I right about this time?"

"Traveling somewhere isn't the same as living there."

She looks at me, her eyes softer. "Do you like moving so much?"

"I liked it at first. Every job was a step up. Bigger crew, bigger project, more money. Then moving became the thing I did because I was good at it."

"That isn't the same as actually wanting to move frequently."

"No."

The truth surprises me. I have been telling myself that the next promotion matters, that supervising more crews and covering more states is the natural reward for the years I spent learning the work. I have not asked whether I want the life attached to it.

"What would you choose if work didn't choose for you?" she asks.

I look across the lake, but the answer is sitting beside me with dirt on her cheek and one purple pair of safety glasses tucked into her hair. It is too soon to say that.

"I don't know," I admit.

Kelsey nods instead of pressing. We finish eating as the sun lowers, talking about smaller things. She tells me which cabins have regular guests and how one couple has returned every anniversary for twelve years. I tell her about an apprentice who labeled a circuit absolutely not this one after spending two hours tracing it through an old factory.

By the time darkness falls over the lake, Kelsey's thigh rests against mine.

"We should go in," she says.

"Probably."

Neither of us moves. I turn toward her and brush the dirt from her cheek with my thumb. Her skin is soft beneath the grit. Her lips part, and the last of my restraint disappears.

"Tell me to go next door," I say.

"No."

"Kelsey."

"You asked me to tell you what I want." She places her hand on my chest. "I want you to kiss me again."

I slide my hand behind her neck and take her mouth.

The kiss is nothing like the one in her kitchen. There is no ringing phone, no dirty dish, and no wall close enough to hold us apart. Kelsey turns fully into me and meets every stroke of my tongue with one of her own. Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer until the softness of her breasts presses against my chest.

I lift her onto my lap, and she settles astride me with a low sound that tears through what remains of my control. My hands span her waist before moving over her hips, holding her where I need her. Even through two layers of denim, the heat between her thighs burns against my erection.

"Marc." My name breaks against my mouth.

I kiss along her jaw and down her neck. She tips her head, giving me access, and I taste the warm skin beneath her ear. The scent of lake water, earth, and Kelsey fills my lungs.

"I want you," I tell her. There is no point pretending otherwise. "But not out here where any guest can walk down that path."

Her hips move once against mine. "Then where?"

The question sends blood pounding through me. I grip her thighs and stand with her wrapped around my waist. Kelsey gasps and clings to my shoulders, then laughs softly as I carry her toward the shore.

"Your cabin or mine?" I ask.