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Holy guacamole. I can do nothing but stop, stare and possibly drool.
What is with these men in this building?
Chapter Eight
LACHLAN
A vision is standing in my hallway, and she’s staring at me. I blink away sleep and stare back. I think I heard her say something about men, but I’m running on a couple of hours of shuteye.
Am I dreaming? Is three hours of sleep making me delusional? The dark thoughts that had been seeping into my brain had me fixing things, running, lifting weights, fixing more shit that didn’t need fixing. All to get my mind away from where it wants to drag me down. If I don’t I’ll let the thoughts take over. It doesn’t happen enough that I can’t deal with it. Usually I call Knox or Finn, but this time I’m trying to deal with my shit alone.
“Are you okay?” The woman in my doorway says.
So, not a mirage then.
Dark hair that looks all sleep-rumpled falls over her shoulders. Tall and curvy in all the right places, she’s smoking it in a mathematical equation T-shirt that Knox would probably understand. Jeans and boots finish the picture. Silver hoops in her ears. Big brown eyes that spell trouble. Her mouth drops open and words spill. Something about a door and a bed. I refuse to give into that vision.
“What’s the craic?”
“What’s the what?” Her soft, southern American accent skims over me and sinks into my pores.
I scrub another hand over my face. “What’s happening?”
“I moved in today.” She gestures down the hallway. “I was told it was furnished. I’m here for ten days, and I stopped by earlier, but it isn’t. Now the door won’t open,” she spills in a heated rush.
Her gaze drops from my face and zooms around my body. I’d thrown on a pair of jeans when the thumping on my door woke me. I barely got the zip up, so the button is hanging loose. Her face flushes and a tooth snags on her bottom lip.
I clear my throat, and whippet fast her eyes are back on mine.
“Let me look at the door.” I move past her, catching the scent of flowers and something entirely feminine.
The door is indeed shut. I use the override code and nothing. I frown back at my new tenant who shrugs.
“It’s not like they can get in or take any furniture that isn’t there.”
I itch to grab my toolbox and fix it now, but it’s late. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.
A tapping toe brings me back to the present, and the frustrated beauty before me.
“What are ya talkin’ about?”
“I was told the place came furnished.”
That’s a new one. We bought this pub a few years ago. I renovated this flat first after the refit of the pub on the floor where we all currently live individually. I did it completely with my own hands, and it looks fucking fantastic. Next up are the four flats upstairs. After the reno we’ll rent the four upstairs plus the one the vision is staying in. This room is listed on our website but it says nothing about furniture. Our plan is to rent all four flats when I’ve finished, then buy houses of our own.
I blink at her. “Someone did a shite job of setting you up, sweetheart. We’ve never offered this room furnished. It’s a short or long-term rental. Bring your own gear. I knew a G. Henry from a company called Baumann, Elborne and Veliscek in Dallas was booked for a week but I had no idea whether the G could have been Gary or Griselda.”
“Oh.”
We stand there staring at each other. God, she’s gorgeous. My castle in the sky. My gaze roams over her like a pirate who’s found priceless treasure. It doesn’t take me long to notice her nipples harden under her shirt. It doesn’t take her long to see me hardening behind my jeans. Jesus, she can fill out jeans, but it’s her ruby, plump lips I’m drawn to. The thought of her lips around my cock makes me swallow. Hard.
“I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” Again, adorable red slashes across her cheeks. “I’m Georgia Presley Henry.” She holds out a delicate hand with pale blue painted nails.
My hand swallows hers. Her fingers grip mine, delicate but with strength.
“Lachlan.” Neither of us wants to let the other go. I make a split-second decision. The only decision really, given my manners and the time of night. “Come on. You can sleep at mine.” Her eyes widen, and she pulls back her hand. I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Wariness battles exhaustion on her face. I grab her handbag when she nods and walks back through the office and into my flat.
