He’d died and gone to heaven. Nick couldn’t stop smiling as he walked to the knife block on Eva’s kitchen counter and pulled out one of the shorter blades for dividing the cinnamon roll. He could level with Eva about the food situation because she was as crazy for him as he was for her. It would be okay.
Taking his seat, he sliced the cinnamon roll in half and pushed the plate so they could both reach it. “Before we make our plan, I have a confession. I ate a big breakfast at the ranch before I drove over here this morning.”
“You were already full?”
“Yes, ma’am. Very much so. Garrett puts on a good spread.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Rafe thought your decision to cook was a sign that you liked me. When I saw how hard you’d worked, I figured you liked me a whole lot and I’d better show my appreciation by eating a substantial amount.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You stuffed yourself to please me?”
“Don’t get me wrong. Everything tasted amazing. Normally I might’ve been able to handle two big breakfast meals. But my stomach was in knots about how today would go. I knew what I wanted, but—”
“What did you want, exactly?”
“This. You looking at me like I’m the best thing since sliced bread.”
“Nothing more?”
“Well, logically, if that part worked out, eventually other things would, too.”
She smiled. “But you didn’t bring condoms.”
“Are you kidding? What kind of SOB would agree to work in a woman’s home and pack condoms just in case?”
Her smile widened. “You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You don’t pretend to respect women so you can get what you want. You genuinely respect them.”
“Of course. I work for Henri Fox.”
That made her laugh. “Should I be giving her the credit?”
“Maybe not all of it. I like to think I had potential when I arrived at the Buckskin. But if I didn’t respect—not just women—everyone, including myself and the critters, I wouldn’t be employed there. It’s a zero-tolerance zone.”
“I always believed that, and it seemed to bear out with the guys who’ve come into the salon, but I haven’t spent time alone with any of them until today. You’re the first.”
“Didn’t realize I was representing the team.”
“And doing a great job.” She leaned toward him and propped her chin on her fist. “What’s the plan, cowboy?”
His body heated. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
“That’s the plan?”
“That would torpedo the plan. I just had to say it.”
“I really want to kiss you, too. But clearly that’s not in our best interests.”
“I don’t think so. Here’s how I see it. You bid on me with the expectation I’d tackle two jobs that are important to you.”
“No, I bid on you because you rode in on a beautiful palomino and I couldn’t let anyone else have you for twelve hours.”
“Oh.” The urge to kiss her grew stronger. “But originally, you—”
“Yes, and you’ve accomplished one big job already, despite my interference.”
“Except for the mirror.”
“And the coat tree.”
He could stare into her eyes all day. They were the color of new leaves. “I brought the coat tree down just now.”
“You did?”
“That’s why I took longer than ten minutes. I wiped the dust off, but you might want to—”
“Where’d you put it?”
“By the front door. Seemed logical.”
“Perfect spot. Then the mirror is the only thing left?”
“That’s it. Then I’d like to tackle the stones.”
“What about lunch? It’s already past noon.”
“If I skipped lunch, I’d finish up earlier.”
“Hm.” Her tiny smile said she liked that plan. “You’re sure you won’t get hungry?”
“If I do, I’ll munch on cinnamon rolls.”
“Tell you what. I’ll leave the chili on low so it’s available if you need it.” She picked up her half of the cinnamon roll. “Now I’m itching to get that mirror down and be done with the attic.”
“Works for me.” He took his half. “But don’t you want to hear the plan?” He bit into the roll.
“I can guess what it is. Once the attic’s cleared and the stones are dug up, we can have fun. Am I right?”
His groin tightened. “After I head back to the bunkhouse for a shower and those little raincoats.”
“Understood. Too bad I don’t have that item on hand. You could clean up here.”
“I won’t take long.” Quickest shower in history. “But there’s one other thing. I mentioned creating a fountain with the stones. Or a waterfall. Some sort of water feature that fits the space. If you want me to do that today, I—”
“It can wait. I’m fine with completing the two jobs I had on the agenda.”
“Are you sure?” He polished off his part of the roll.
“I’m sure. But do you need to create it?”
“Need?”
“Clearly you’re determined to finish the attic and dig up the stones or you’ll think you short-changed me. If you feel the same about the water feature, then—”
“I don’t feel the same about it. If it appeals to you, though, I’d like to tackle it sometime.”
“It appeals to me and I want to help build it.” She gazed at him. “I assume we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
“I certainly hope so.” He shifted in his chair. All this talk and no action was having a predictable effect.
“Count on it.”
“Oh, I will. So now that we’ve figured out—”
“You do remember what I said, though, right?”
“About what?”
“I’m not looking for… well, let’s just say I’m not looking for a life partner.”
“Ah. Yes, I remember.” A few hours ago he’d been amused that she’d felt the need to announce it so early in the game. Wasn’t quite so amusing now.
“I just wanted to check, because you said you want to get married someday.”
“Someday.”
“Then I hope you find the perfect woman for you.”
“Thank you.” What if I already have?
“I’m guessing you’d like to have kids, too.”
This topic wasn’t random and he answered the question with care. “If it works out.”
“It will. You deserve that.” She made the statement as if checking a box. Now she could relax about the subject of marriage and kids. She’d reminded him of her position. They could move on.
He was more than ready to move on. He’d get the mirror out of the attic, check that box and go out back to dig up stones. He drained his glass of iced coffee. “Do you have duct tape? If not, I might have some in my truck.”
“I think I saw some in a drawer. Let me look.”
“I can head up there and wipe the worst of the dust off while you’re looking for the tape.”
“Sounds good.”
“See you in a few minutes.” He rinsed his glass and set it on the counter before leaving the kitchen. The Brotherhood had a system for loading the dishwasher but she likely had a different one.
As he climbed the stairs, he congratulated himself on not reaching for her, not kissing her during that extended conversation. Hadn’t been easy.
It helped that he was a filthy mess. His shirt had been relatively clean when she’d needed comforting after finding out about Miss Barton’s cancelled wedding. But now—only a case of extreme lust would override his better judgment about pulling her into his arms.
On the other hand, extreme lust wasn’t totally off the table. When she looked at him the way she had when she’d asked about the plan, he’d hooked his boots around the legs of his chair to keep from rising to his feet.
She tested his self-control as no woman ever had. That was a clue that she could be the one. Ah, who was he kidding? He didn’t need clues.
He’d been convinced from the first time he’d settled into her chair at the salon. But her crush on CJ had been a problem. Now he faced a far more complicated one.
He’d just finished wiping the dust off the mirror’s wooden frame when her light footsteps on the staircase announced her approach.
He went to the open door. “Did you find some?”
“I did.” She brandished a roll that should do the trick.
He held out his hand. “I’ll tape it. You can stay out there where it’s cooler.”
“That’s silly. I’m not some fragile flower. I’ve spent time in the attic this week. I know what it’s like.”
“But—”
“Taping is easier when you have two people, one to hold and one to tape.” She stepped over the sill.
“You have a point.” Clearly she was determined to help. If he hadn’t moved back she would have bumped into him. “Would you rather hold or tape?”
“Tape.”
“Go for it.” Gripping the mirror’s curved frame near the top, he stepped back, extending his arms so she could duck under them as she worked.
Their close proximity ramped up his heartbeat and his breathing, but the ripping of the tape made enough noise to cover it. Maybe.
Why should the attic be more intimate than the kitchen? Likely because the heat intensified her scent, a combination of soap, body lotion and aroused woman.
He was fragrant, too, but not in a pleasant way. His smelly self should kill any sexual urges she had. A guy with class wouldn’t reach for a woman when he reeked.
“I figure taping around the middle should be good enough.” She’d started on the far side, which put the mirror between them.
“That should do it.” He was hoarse. Dusty up here. Yeah, that was it. His vocal cords weren’t reacting to an attack of extreme lust. Of course not.
She rounded the mirror, leaning over in concentration. Rip, rip, rip. “You’re right about the temperature. It’s like a furnace up here.”
And getting hotter by the second. His jeans pinched something fierce. “Listen, I can—” He paused to clear his throat. “I can finish up.”
She ducked under his left arm and her hip brushed against his fly. “That would make it harder.”
His laugh sounded like tires on gravel. “Not possible.”
She stopped ripping the tape from the roll. Silence.
Well, not quite. He was breathing like a freight train. So was she. Nothing aerobic about taping. “Eva? Are you—”
“Going insane?” Straightening, she left the tape dangling and turned, caged between his outstretched arms. Her eyes flashed green fire. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
He held onto the mirror for dear life while his heart raced and his cock throbbed.
“And I’m going to do something about it.” Clutching his sweat-soaked T-shirt in both hands, she yanked it from the waistband of his jeans.