Kayla
The next morning, my stuff arrived from New York. The movers plopped the boxes in the living room, collected their money, and quickly left. Not too long from now, I’d have to move again, so I only unpacked a few things, stuff I could use while I was here even if it was temporarily.
But for how long? I wasn’t sure how much time it would take to sell the place. I had no clue what the real estate market was like in Fosterman. Taylor had said there would be a high demand for the house, but what did that mean, exactly? Could he have meant if the house was fixed up, instead of as-is?
Coffee finally brewed, I poured myself a cup and leaned against the kitchen counter. I pulled out the card of the agent Taylor had recommended and stared at the picture of the woman. Laura Fontaine. Pretty name and a pretty face to match. How did Taylor know her? Were they friends? Had they dated? Had they ever—
Knock it off, Kayla, I ordered. My stupid insecurity was showing again. What did it matter if they’d slept together?
I called the number and spoke to Laura. When she asked who had recommended her, I told her Taylor Riggs had come over to do a repair and given me her business card.
There was a moment’s pause before she said, “Oh, Taylor, of course! I’m glad he still thinks of me. Great guy.”
My curiosity got the best of me. “S0, um, did you two date, or something?”
“Yes, we used to date—we were roommates, actually—but that was a while back. College,” Laura clarified, and the jealousy I’d been trying to hold back reared its ugly head. “The three of us—he, I and our other roommate Dominic—were thick as thieves, back in the day. Those two were so much fun. Great guys—the kind that would do anything for a friend.”
I was trying not to let the enthusiasm in her voice annoy me. Jealousy wasn’t what I needed in my life at the moment. Or ever, really. “We met only yesterday, but Taylor seemed trustworthy and kind.”
“Oh, definitely he’s both! And more.” Her voice rose and I could almost sense her pulse rate increasing.
“So Dom and Taylor were roommates back then, too? They didn’t say when they were here.”
Her breath seemed to catch, and her voice came out a little high-pitched and airy when she said, “Oh, you met Dom, too?”
I frowned. Taylor had seemed enthusiastic about referring Laura as a real estate agent, but had they not kept in touch the way I’d assumed? “Um, yeah, the two work together. They have a construction company, the Fix-It Guys. They came here yesterday to fix my sink and do an evaluation on the house.”
“Right. How was Dom? Did he seem…okay?” Concern hung in Laura’s voice. I wondered if she was referring to him getting dumped by his fiancée.
I sensed some regret in Laura, maybe even pity for Dom. But I didn’t want to throw Dom under the bus without knowing the exact history between him and Laura, so I simply replied, “He seemed fine. Why?”
“We had some history. I think maybe he fell in—never mind. He’s doing good, though?”
History, huh? Was she about to tell me Dom had fallen in love with her while she was dating Taylor? My jealousy magnified tenfold. I glanced down at the photo of Laura on her business card. What an amazingly beautiful woman. Every hair in place, makeup perfectly applied, no evidence of curves…the opposite of me. I swallowed and gave myself a lecture: whatever had happened between this woman and the two men wasn’t my business. That was then. This is now. And I wasn’t going to stay in Fosterman long enough to make Taylor and Dom’s past into a thing.
I added false enthusiasm to my voice and answered with, “Yep, he’s doing good! Kept to himself doing the house inspection, mostly. He’s kinda…intense.”
She let out a light laugh, a change from her earlier worry. “That he is. But don’t let that fool you—that man would go to the ends of the earth to protect anyone who needed it. I once watched him stop three lanes of traffic to rescue a frightened dog and return it to a crying kid. Made a friend for life that day. Two friends, actually. The dog wouldn’t stop licking Dom’s face, and last I heard, the kid still keeps in touch. But yeah, you wouldn’t know he has that protective side when you first meet him.”
“I got that sense. He’s really professional, too. Both he and Taylor seemed to work together well.”
“Oh. Yeah, they do. Work together well, that is.” Her voice grew throaty. “It’s good to hear they’re both fine. I sure had fun with the two of them. Mmm hmm.”
Wait. With the two of them? My mind immediately leaped to the same place it had gone that first night I’d arrived in Fosterman, when I’d fantasized about the two men taking me at the same time. College could be a weird time for many, with lots of experimentation, so maybe the three of them had tried some things out in bed, but I wasn’t sure my brain could handle imagining Taylor and Dom with this gorgeous woman.
First off, I was jealous. And secondly? Things like that didn’t happen in real life. They were just that—fantasies.
But Laura hadn’t sounded like she'd been referring to the three of them going to concerts and partying. Nope, the way her voice had gone all low and throaty, she was making it sound like her time with Dom and Taylor had been way more than that.
I squirmed in my seat, then cleared my throat and tried to clean out my dirty mind. Getting back to business, I asked her if she’d be interested in taking a look at Aunt Tabitha’s place. When Laura explained she wasn’t taking on new clients because she had a newborn at home, I was surprised. Had Taylor known she’d had a baby?
“I see,” I said. “Sorry to have wasted your time. Congratulations on the little one.”
“Thank you. She’s a real charmer, like her daddy. He was one of my clients a little over a year ago and things went from zero to sixty. First I’m showing some hot guy a house, and the next thing I know, I’m walking down the aisle in a white dress and ditching my birth control. Hard to believe your life can change so fast.”
I laughed along with her, but a tingle sizzled up my spine as I imagined that moment in Tabitha’s bedroom, when I’d been in a towel, with Taylor standing so close to me. Then my mind flipped to Dom, and the tingle heated like the flicker of fire.
It took me a moment to realize Laura was still on the line. “It was nice chatting and going down memory lane,” she said, hastily adding, “Hey, look up another real estate agent by the name of Logan Raider. He’s friends with Taylor and Dom. He might be able to help you out.”
I jotted down the name before thanking her and hanging up.
So much for my first task of the day. Did I cross off Call Real Estate Agent, or leave it blank?
A loud knock at the front door startled me. I got up from the kitchen counter to answer it. I barely managed to open the door when Dom ploughed past, marched straight into my house, and with his muscular arm practically shaking, pointed up at the ceiling.
“Do you know how rare original crown molding from the late eighteen hundreds is?” he asked me.
Dumbfounded, I alternated between glancing up at the ceiling and back at him, my mouth gaping open. His hair was a tangled mess, as if he’d been tugging at it on the drive over. In whatever mad fury he’d been in, he hadn’t even taken the time to button his flannel shirt, which meant I could see his carved abs moving with every one of his frustrated breaths.
When I’d first met Dom he was reserved, quiet, broody. But it was clear to me then that he had a whole different side to him: a wild, untamed, hot blooded side. An animal side. Taylor was smooth like honey. Dom was like a whiskey that would punch you in the mouth when you were least expecting it.
I found his intensity yummy. Maybe it was because of what Laura had said, that Dom was a protector, or maybe it was because my gut trusted him, or maybe it was because his muscles flexed and bunched—
“Do you not see these floors?” He dropped to his knee on the hardwood floors and ran his hand over the surface.
I couldn’t focus because when he kneeled, his jeans pulled tight over his crotch and I was fairly certain I could see both his size and girth. It made my mouth dry. I tried my best to pay attention to what he was saying about original installation and the best valley oak he’d seen and sanding and buffing and stains and ruining the integrity of the character, but it made it difficult every time he said “wood,” and he said it a lot.
“Don’t you see that you can’t let just anyone work on wood like this?” he asked loudly, impatiently.
“Umm…”
Before I could mumble out some nonsense, he stood and stalked out of the foyer, boots thundering. I found myself grinning. Dom in a mood wasn’t scaring me—quite the opposite. How awesome it must be to be this passionate about something. The last time I’d felt passion like this was…well…never, really.
“The stained glass in this reading nook? Can’t you see it’s worth preserving, protecting, caring for?” I heard him call from halfway across the house. That man could move fast.
He appeared again from the living room. “The staircase, this railing. It’s beat up, sure, but all it needs is some devotion and it’ll be fine. You can’t throw it away.”
I sobered. Somehow I suspected Dom’s current intensity wasn’t entirely about my aunt’s house and his interest in protecting it. This was personal.
“If you sell this house,” Dom said, turning to me, “someone will either tear it down to the studs and replace everything as cheaply as possible to make a quick buck, or they’ll tear it down entirely.”
I sighed. “So I’m guessing Taylor told you about our text conversation. That I’m selling, not renovating.”
“Damn straight, he did. He also told me you were sick with pneumonia when Tabitha died. That I was…” He growled and ran his hands through his hair.
“That you were what?” I said, not sure what my having pneumonia had to do with anything.
“Nothing. Never mind. But Kayla, I can’t believe you intend to sell the house. To leave Fosterman just when you got here.”
Dom was breathing heavily and I couldn’t help but imagine that as out of control and wild as he seemed at the moment, he must look even more so after a particularly athletic round of intercourse. Perhaps on the kitchen table…
Focus, Kayla. Focus.
“Did Taylor tell you why I have to sell the house?”
“Yeah, it’s bullshit.”
His flippant attitude toward my money problems ignited a flame of anger inside my chest. How dare he come waltzing right inside my home and start stomping around? How dare he insist that he knows best about my house?
“It’s not bullshit, it’s numbers.”
“Bull…shit,” he repeated, slowly.
I gritted my teeth and took a determined step closer to him. His eyes followed me. “Stop saying that,” I said. “It’s true. I can’t afford a renovation. Any renovations. My house, my decision.”
Dom moved in closer and pointed a finger at my chest. He towered over me, so I stretched a tiny bit up onto my tiptoes.
“If you wanted to keep this house, if you wanted to stay,” he said, his voice low and almost trembling with anger, “you’d find a way. The amount we had in our estimate was high but workable, with projects split out over time. Even someone with a crappy credit score could get a mortgage on this place to pay for the renovations. So I’ll say it again. Bull…shit.”
I poked my own finger at his chest, which was now heaving just as much as mine. “Why are you being such an asshole?” Our breathing was raspy and our chests heaving and we were no more than inches from each other.
“Why are you afraid?” he countered.
“Afraid of what?”
“To take a risk. On the house. On us.”
I dug my fingernails into my palm. How did this man cause such a fierce reaction in me? I didn’t even know him.
“I’m not afraid.” Wait, was I afraid of them? Not of Taylor and Dom as it related to this house, but of them in a completely different way? Was I afraid of how I’d reacted to them the first time we met, and how I’d continue to react to them if we continued to see one another? Had I convinced myself I was leaving Fosterman so there was no point in seeing them again because of fear rather than practicality?
“You are,” Dom insisted.
“Am not.” We were both shouting.
“Then prove it.”
“Fine!”
“Go to lunch with me.”
My voice caught in my throat and I looked at him in surprise. Had Dark and Broody Dominic just asked me out? My mind whirled. “Did you say lunch?”
Dom leaned back and crossed his arms across his wide chest. “Yeah, I guess I did. Lunch. With me.”
“Like a date?” I asked dumbly.
“Yes. Unless you’re afraid.” He cocked a challenging brow, a ghost of a grin slowly replacing his earlier scowl.
I let the words sink in. “Yesterday, you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even thank me for the cake or say goodbye.”
“Maybe that’s because I didn’t want to say goodbye. And yesterday things were one way. Now they’re another way.”
“How come? Because I turned down the bid? Because Taylor told you I had pneumonia a few weeks ago?”
“Because of those things and other things, too. Because I thought I couldn’t handle things a certain way, and now I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I exclaimed.
“Then come to lunch with me and I’ll try to explain,” he said, and the intensity of his gaze and his voice had me catching my breath. I tried, really hard, to remind myself why I’d turned down Taylor’s dinner invitation last night. I tried telling myself I needed to keep my focus on my future, and my future didn’t include either one of the Fix-It Guys.
I tried, but somehow, I still ended up saying, “Okay.”
And that’s when I saw Dom smile—really smile.
And my heart almost melted.
Dom and I took his work truck, and the first few minutes of the ride were spent in awkward silence, save for the hum of the engine and the whip of the wind. Then Dom drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and sighed. “I’m an asshole,” he said finally, still staring straight ahead.
“Yes, you are.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and caught him doing the same. We each chuckled softly.
Before the awkwardness could set back in like a damp, mildewed blanket, Dom spoke again. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. Yesterday and today.”
I looked over at him. Everything about him was sharp, hard. His jaw line, his eyebrows, the angle of his shoulder, the muscles down his arm that I could see past his rolled up flannel shirtsleeve. But I knew there was hurt and vulnerability and complexity behind all those sharp, hard lines.
“I accept your apology,” I said.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
We settled into an easy conversation, with Dom telling me he was taking me to a diner he’d been going to for years. He’d even taken his first date there a long time ago.
“Aww, that’s so cute.” I smiled. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen?” He squinted, trying to remember. “I’d just gotten my license. I really liked this girl and wanted to take her out, but I didn’t have money for a fancy place, so we went to Frawley’s instead.”
Sixteen. Before Laura and college. “Hey, it’s not the price tag, it’s the fun you have, right?” I reassured him.
“I guess so,” he said quietly.
“How long have you lived in Fosterman?”
“I was born here, grew up here. Only left for college.”
“And how’s it been since you came back?”
“Good. My family’s here. Plus, Taylor’s not a bad roommate and he’s a great business partner. A lot of people are moving out of the Bay Area to remote locations like Fosterman, so work is steady.”
I considered asking him about his fiancée…maybe even telling him that I’d spoken with Laura. Why stir up old emotions, though? Dom was finally relaxing around me, and I wanted more of that.
In no time, we were pulling into the diner. The place seemed a little run-down around the edges but cheerful, with a bright neon sign announcing that Frawley’s was named Fosterman’s Best Eatery for the sixteenth year in a row.
“Looks nice.” I climbed out of the truck and noted a few more trucks parked around us.
“Doubt it’s got much on all the places you’ve been to in the big city, but—”
“It’ll be great,” I interrupted, reassuring him. I saw a shadow in his eyes, as though he was worried I would turn my nose up at this restaurant, deem it not good enough for my high standards. Right, because broke ol’ me who couldn’t afford to renovate Tabitha’s house would turn my nose up at a diner?
I took his arm as we walked in. He looked down at my hand for a brief moment, seeming surprised at my touch. The air felt charged between us and time slowed down ever so slightly.
I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Good, because I wanted to have a connection with Dominic so much, despite his moodiness the day before, but bad, because I shouldn’t have been feeling anything for anybody when I wouldn’t be staying in Fosterman. Once again, however, I pushed that thought out of my mind and decided to simply focus on the here and now.
We headed inside where the diner was even more old-fashioned than on the outside. Gleaming tiled counter, a couple of coffee pots percolating away, and a rotating stand showing off glistening donuts and thick wedges of pie. A few waitresses in short skirts and big smiles walked briskly about, pausing to chat with people here and there and letting out enthusiastic gales of laughter.
My heart warmed. This was community, real community, something I’d lacked back in New York.
In the kitchen, a large, older man worked his ass off at the grill, wiping sweat off his brow. Dom led me to a leather-clad booth in the corner. Someone in the booth next to us was drinking a vanilla milkshake out of a tall glass, which made me smile. So classic. If I ever needed a reference for what a small-town diner looked like while writing one of my food articles, I’d only need to come here for lunch.
Something tugged in my chest—anxiety. Would I ever go back to writing food critiques again? Did I even want to? What path should my career take? Where did I go from here?
“You’re in for a treat,” Dominic said, nodding toward the short-order cook. “Nathan’s great. He puts the word ‘home’ in ‘down-home cooking.’”
The cook looked up and noticed Dom, and called out, “My man! Can’t resist my fries, right?” He flipped a burger onto a bun, placed the plate on the pass, and came out from behind the grill.
“And who’s this?” Nathan asked, smiling down at me. “Don’t think I’ve seen this lovely lady around here before.”
I reached out my hand to shake Nathan’s as Dominic made the introductions. “I just moved to town,” I explained. “I inherited my Aunt Tabitha’s place. Taylor and Dominic came by to give me an estimate on some things the house needs.” Some things. Boy, what an understatement.
“The Fix-It Guys,” Nathan said with a twang in his voice, imitating what I guessed was a TV commercial. “And Tabitha, huh?” The old man’s eyes took on a twinkle.
“Hmm…sounds like you may have some history with my aunt. Good or bad?” I ventured, cocking my head.
He burst into laughter. “You come back here when it’s a little less busy, and I’ll tell you some stories about Tabitha Vanderzee.”
I grinned. Tabitha had told me many of her own wild stories and so far, everyone who’d mentioned her seemed to genuinely love her. “So, what do you recommend?”
“Anything with waffles,” he replied at once.
“Give me anything with waffles, then.” I smiled. “As long as there’s coffee on the side.”
“Will do. Nice meeting you, miss. The usual, Dom?” After Dom nodded, Nathan ducked back into the kitchen. A young waitress stopped by with two coffee cups and expertly poured for Dom and myself.
Dom wrapped his long, suntanned fingers around his coffee cup and stared into the hot steam swirling up from it. Every few seconds his eyes flickered to mine, only to catch me looking, then he’d glance away. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t tell what. What did he want from me? What could I possibly give him?
As I grabbed my coffee cup, he suddenly moved, and our fingers brushed. I didn’t pull away and neither did he. When I looked up at him, the look on his face made me catch my breath.
“Listen, Kayla,” he finally said. “Taylor and I were talking about the house, how you don’t have the money to do the repairs right now. And we wanted to run something by you—”
He stopped when the sound of a cell phone ring filled the air. Wincing, he dug into his back pocket and said, “Sorry. I’ve been expecting an important business call. Mind if I take this outside?”
I nodded even though I was anxious for him to finish what he’d been saying. After he got up and walked out, phone at his ear, my gaze firmly locked on his tight ass, I blew out a breath. What had he and Taylor talked about exactly? What did they—
“I don’t remember every face I see, but I know for a fact I wouldn’t have forgotten yours.”
A man’s throaty voice pulled me out of my reverie. I jerked my head around, ready to reply to whoever this irritating flirt was—had he not noticed I was on a date with one of the sexiest men in town?
The reply of, “not interested, sorry-not-sorry,” froze in my throat when I caught sight of a drop-dead, insanely gorgeous magazine model giving me a dazzling white smile. The blond man looked like he was in his mid-thirties, in a suit that fit him like perfection. He was shamelessly and obviously undressing me with his bright green eyes. He tore my T-shirt in two with his gaze and feasted on my naked breasts with his widened pupils. I shivered as if I was actually standing exposed in front of all these strangers.
“New around here, or just passing through?” he asked.
“Umm…”
Why couldn’t I form words?
“If you’re passing through, I just need fifteen minutes to pack my bags,” he continued, a joking grin on his face. “I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Don’t worry, my passport is current.”
I made a show of rolling my eyes, but damn, it was hard to play it cool. Mister Tall Dark and Handsome’s flirtation was a little on the strong side, but his suit fit him like perfection.
“So,” the man said, “could I buy you lunch?”
“Um, sorry, I’m actually with someone right now. He’s taking a phone call, outside,” I said, pointing to the door. I could see Dom outside, intent on his conversation. He glanced up right as I was pointing, and the line over his brow furrowed even deeper when he saw my new companion. I had a naughty, childish desire for him to feel jealous. Dom snapped something into his phone, then shoved it in his pocket and headed back to the diner.
“Of course you’d be with Dom,” the man in front of me said, drawing my attention back to him. “Too bad. He’s not one to share. Not anymore, at least,” he added, winking.
While I was gaping at that statement, Dom strode up, all quintessentially dark and broody but with a slight smile on his face, and the new guy cheerfully called out, “Dom, my man!” The two guys gave each other a quick hug, showing me another side of Dominic in the flash of an eye. He could be sweet, affectionate when he wanted to, even though he was still warily eyeing the other guy.
“Haven’t seen much of you lately, Dom,” the suited hunk said. “How the hell are you?”
“I’ve been out of it for a while, but getting back in,” Dominic said. “Kayla, this is my and Taylor’s friend, Logan. We all grew up here in Fosterman.”
“Nice to meet you, Kayla.” Logan stuck out his hand as Dom slid back into the booth. Logan’s gaze traveled down my face and caressed the swell of my breasts, appreciating the vee my cleavage made. I went wet at the intensity of his gaze. If I’d felt attracted to him the moment I first laid eyes on him, that attraction had now intensified a hundredfold.
And for the third time in twenty-four hours, I had the pleasure of sliding my hand into yet another gorgeous man’s hand. Strong, soft, hands that I knew could satiate me if given the chance. “Logan…” I narrowed my eyes.
“Raider,” he said.
“Ah, the real estate agent?” I asked.
Both Dom and he seemed surprised.
“Yes, have we met?”
“No, but I got a recommendation from someone who said I should call you.”
“You want to sit down with us?” Dom asked.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed when Logan said, “Thanks, but I’m with my group over there.” He pointed to another table where two other guys were sitting drinking milkshakes. “But I do hope to see you around sometime, Kayla,” he added, focusing his full attention on me. “She makes quite the impression, doesn’t she, Dom?” He remained standing watching me very, very carefully. So much that Dominic eyed what was going on between us like a tennis match and sat back, frowning.
“Good to see you, buddy,” Dom said, ignoring Logan’s question. It was clear Dom was telling him he was now dismissed and could go, get the hell out, leave Dom’s woman alone.
“You have a business for sale, Kayla?” Logan asked, sticking his beautiful hands in his pockets where I couldn’t see them. The action made me think of other things hiding in there. “Because I only do commercial real estate. Closed on a big deal today, actually.”
“Congrats,” I said, feeling a little deflated that he didn’t sell individual houses. “Well, if you don’t sell homes, then I guess I’ll have to keep looking.”
“Listen, I can still run some comps for you, do some research, and see what comes up. I was just passing through town, but give me your number and we’ll keep in touch.” Logan was a smooth talker, and from Dom’s now narrowed gaze, one who could weasel a woman out of any man’s arms.
Something felt tense between Logan and Dom just then. It could’ve been some normal male competition, but it was hard to tell with both of them trying to say all the right things in front of me. I gave Logan one of my old business cards from the e-zine that had my cell phone number on it.
“Life in the Big Apple?” he said, examining my card.
“My old work in New York.”
“Ah, a New York girl.” He flashed me a sexy smile. “A woman after my own heart.”
Dominic cracked his knuckles, as if to remind Logan that he could break him in two if he didn’t stop flirting with me ASAP. It snapped Logan back to his senses, and he shook both our hands again and was off. My gaze and mind went with him. What a dashing, handsome man. Mouth-wateringly sexy. My goodness.
When I turned back to Dom, the heat of his expression almost had me exploding like Mount Vesuvius. What the heck was in the water in this town to make all the men sexy as hell?
When Nathan brought out the food, Dominic flipped sides of the booth and came to sit next to me. Either he felt possessive after the Logan encounter or he just preferred sitting this way. I felt shivery with him so close. First Taylor, then Dominic, then Logan Raider, and now Dominic again. It was enough to make a girl die from swooning.
“Um, what was that about?” I asked quietly. “There was like, tension between the two of you.”
“He was attracted to you.”
“And?”
“And I’m attracted to you, too. You know it. I wanted to make sure he knew it.”
“Why?” I felt breathless with him talking to me this way, with him making our silent feelings known and out in the open. “You want something from me while I’m here? Even though you know I’m not going to be staying in Fosterman, right?”
“I want something from you, yes, if it’s what you want, too. And I think you do. And as for whether you’re going to be staying, well…who knows what’s going to happen, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I started telling you about an idea Taylor and I had, before Fancy Pants arrived.”
I had to giggle. Fancy Pants! “Okay, I’m listening.”
“We know you don’t have the money for the renovations, but we still want to do it. It’s an old Victorian, and we specialize in historic buildings. We’ve always wanted to fix up Tabitha’s place, and we’d hate to see some other Joe do it instead of us.” He turned in his seat now to face me and used his hands as he explained. Clearly, he was excited about this idea. “Why don’t you let us fix the place up, with no cost to you?”
Stunned, I flailed for a response before managing to finally say, “What would you get out of this if I can’t pay you?”
“A show home. We could use your house to show potential clients the work that we can do, how good we are, instead of showing them pics of our work. I’m talking about major historic renovations, not piddley stuff like fixing a sink. So there wouldn’t be a lot of clients coming over to check out the work—just a few who’d be interested in a historic renovation. What do you think?”
Wow. This was big. And generous. Insane really. Given what they’d quoted me to fix up the house, they’d be donating not only their own time but the cost of materials, as well? To pick up more clients? Would most clients even come to another person’s home to see the work they’d done?
“Dom,” I began, my voice full of skepticism.
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, and you’re probably wondering what the catch is, but there’s no catch. Taylor and I work for ourselves. We don’t answer to anyone, and we have goals to expand our business big time. It would be great for all of us. Think about it. You could stay in the house you love so much.”
Well sure, that would be amazing. And I could also give input during the renovation. Maybe even consider turning the house into a B&B, the way Taylor had suggested, if I could get over my concerns about privacy.
I’d been looking for something to feel passionate about. My life had been okay, for the most part, which had been fine.
But that was just it—was “fine” all I wanted?
Suddenly a memory of Tabitha slipped into my mind. I’d been about eight, and Tabitha and I had been out in Tabitha’s gorgeous garden, one of her many lifetime passions, when a bee had stung her.
“Fuck,” she’d sworn at the top of her lungs.
“Ooo, you said a bad word,” I said.
“What?” Tabitha had said in surprise. “What did I say?”
“The f-word, Auntie.”
She laughed.
“Silly girl,” she grabbed my chin with her dirt-covered fingers, “fuck isn’t the f-word you should never say. It’s F-I-N-E.”
I’d sounded it out in my head. “Fine?”
“Shh,” Tabitha had hissed quickly before smiling and giving me a kiss on the forehead. I could remember knowing I’d heard something naughty, but profound.
Tabitha was filled with passion, love of life, joy and a sense of adventure. And her house was a part of it. Maybe fixing it up with Taylor and Dom could be my passion? Maybe that’s why she gave it to me and not anyone else in the family which probably would have made more sense.
All I knew was I wanted more than FINE. I wanted it all.
I could see Dom studying me as I pondered all of this. “I don’t know what to say. It’s beyond generous of you guys to offer this, but I don’t think I’d feel right taking that much from you. Maybe if I could pay you fair compensation for even a fraction of what you’d be doing, I’d be okay with it but I just don’t see how that can happen. I mean, once I got a job, that would help, of course, but then there’s the taxes, living expenses…” I shrugged.
“Kayla, we’re not hurting for money,” he said. “Taylor and I, we do fairly well. Business is booming here and in the nearby towns, and we always have work. But this could take our business up a notch, especially from the big dogs in Henderson, a few miles up the road. It could lead to a lot more business for us, doing what we love: historical renovation.”
When I remained silent, he sighed. “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, so why don’t you just think on it, and the three of us, you, Taylor, and I, can talk more tomorrow.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it some more,” I said, then bit my lip. “I just… I refuse to take advantage of you. I’m not rich, but I’m independent and I have my pride, Dom.”
“Just keep an open mind. We can come over around noon, and we can go over everything again with Taylor there.”
“Okay, I’d like that. And no matter what, thank you for even making the offer. It means so much to me.” It really did. Here Taylor and Dom were strangers, and while they probably were trying to make an arrangement that would benefit their business, some part of me knew they wouldn’t make the offer to just anyone. They liked and trusted me, and I definitely liked them. I trusted them, too, as much as I could trust virtual strangers. I just wasn’t sure if that made me a good judge of character or an idiot.
When Dominic got out of the booth, he stretched his arms up in the air, and I caught sight of his bare stomach. His shirt rose a couple of inches, and some crazy part of me wanted to reach across the table and rake my nails over his skin. God, I had to see more of those perfect abs.
I quickly averted my gaze when I found him looking down at me with a victorious grin on his face.
The trickster—he’d made that move on purpose.
We headed out to the truck, and the fresh air outside felt good. Not that the diner had been stuffy, but with Logan interrupting and then practically undressing me with his eyes, I was definitely feeling off kilter.
I leaned against the truck door and briefly closed my eyes, the sun warm on my face, while I waited for Dom to unlock it. But when I didn’t hear the click of the lock, I opened my eyes and was surprised to find him standing right in front of me. He hadn’t reached for his keys in the front pocket of his jeans that were slung so deliciously around his hips. He hadn’t moved to the driver’s side of his truck. He hadn’t even glanced at it.
His eyes were on me. And me alone.
Dom seemed to be looking for something. He searched my eyes like some answer lay hidden just beneath my hazel irises, then he slid his gaze down, taking me all in. His head was slightly tilted to the side, like the curve of my waist was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. It wasn’t like how Logan had blatantly undressed me with his eyes, leaving me hot, hungry, and wet. Dom’s gaze was more...in-depth. Deep. Emotional.
I squirmed beneath Dom’s attention and glanced at my dusty sneakers because the intensity of his gaze left me feeling vulnerable, open, exposed in a way far more intimate than a naked body.
“Door’s still locked,” I said, pretending like that was the reason we were both still standing there.
“I know.” And yet his hands did not move to unlock the truck.
“Is there a reason we’re not getting into the truck?” I asked, tucking a hair behind my ear partially because the wind tugged at it and partially because I could not have been more nervous under his gaze.
“Taylor thinks we should do this,” he said, ignoring my question. “He thinks it’s a good idea.”
I frowned. “I’m assuming you mean this house proposal. Are you not convinced?”
“I wasn’t. And then I was. And now….” He gnawed on his lip like he was pondering some great, unknown question.
Wait—did he mean he didn’t want to work on my house, or was he talking about something entirely different? “Look,” I said, still slightly confused, “if you don’t want to do the reno—”
“I think it’s dangerous,” Dom interrupted, his voice dark and low. “I think it could be very, very dangerous.”
His words made my stomach flip. The way the word “dangerous” slipped from his lips, oh, I wanted to hear it again and again and again. But I also wanted to understand what we were talking about here. Because this intensity could not be about replacing crown molding and rewiring a kitchen.
“Someone could get hurt,” he continued, suddenly moving in closer to me.
“Like falling off a ladder?” My voice was nothing but a whisper. I wasn’t even sure he heard it over the slight breeze.
“Not exactly,” he said with a hint of a smile. He stepped forward and twisted his finger around the strand of hair I’d tucked behind my ear. He pressed one hand against the window and for a moment, I thought he would kiss me.
“And you’re not sure if I—if my house is worth the risk?”
He shook his head. “Not your house. You. We knew from the moment we laid eyes on you, you were worth the risk,” he whispered, his face inches from mine.
Oh, we were most definitely not talking about the renovation job any more.
I gasped when he leaned forward, invading my personal space, his scent permeating my senses. “We want to work on your house, Kayla. But more than that, we want to spend more time with you.” He pushed his key into the door’s lock, then, right as I thought he was about to kiss me, he winked and disappeared around to his side, leaving my lungs burning and my knees ready to give way.
What was that? What the hell was that?
I paused with my hand on the door handle before climbing inside when something struck me.
Wait. Had Dom said… “we”?