Luke had considered not going back to the classroom to talk to Harper, but he’d never been one to shy away from a fight.
And she still had the sexy tool belt on. Which helped. A lot.
‘I didn’t think you’d be back,’ she said, not meeting his gaze.
‘It seemed a waste of a good ‘I’ll be back’ not to.’ He looked at her, wondering if she got the Arnie reference. She stared blankly, jiggling a hammer for a second before shoving it into a loop on her belt. ‘And I thought we had a few things we should slug out in private,’ he said. ‘As in, not in front of an entire class of your students. Or even worse, my mother,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘What sort of things?’ Harper’s hand was back on the hammer, which made Luke extremely nervous. If forced to describe her right now, this very second, the words ‘armed and dangerous’ would be perfect.
‘I thought we probably needed to discuss this thing we’ve got between us, for starters.’
‘What thing?’ Her hand held the head of the hammer, lifting it and then letting it slide back through its loop. Lift, slide. Lift, slide.
‘You can pretend all you want, Harper, but there is a thing and it’s the reason we got naked together.’
For a second the hammer was still. Then lift, slide. Lift, slide.
‘People get naked for a whole lot of reasons. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.’
‘True. Only I get the feeling it is a big deal for you, which is why you turfed me out on my arse the way you did.’
Harper’s hand formed a fist around the hammer, her white knuckles the only indication she acknowledged his words. At least the lift–slide had stopped before it completely threw him off course.
‘Okay, so now we’ve talked about that. What else did you want to talk about?’ said Harper.
Luke took a deep breath. ‘Seriously Harper? That’s the best you can do? ’Cause the way I look at it, the problem here is who gets to wear the pants in this relationship.’
‘You’re assuming we have a relationship. You’re not my boyfriend, remember?’ Lift, slide. Lift, slide.
‘Hard to forget. But back to the pants. I’ve tried to wrangle it so we both wear the pants, but today you showed, yet again, that you prefer me pantsless.’
Harper’s eyes widened and she gave a bark of laughter. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Maybe not so ridiculous. I get you have reasons for how you do things and that me bowling in with my big feet isn’t always to your liking, but I genuinely want to help you. I think what you’re doing here is great. Mum’s happy and really proud of that thing she’s making.’ Luke pointed to the pile of macrocarpa sitting on the workbench.
‘It’s a seat.’ Harper said. ‘A sleeper bench seat.’
‘Great. Whatever. My point is, I’m not trying to sabotage things. I want to help because I can see your resources are stretched and you need another pair of hands to help take your class. Not just to make it easier for you, but because there are health and safety issues to consider. Ladders, cutting tools. These are dangerous in inexperienced hands.’ Luke felt the familiar chest constriction. Pushed it away.
‘I know all this. I take the safety of my students very seriously.’
The lift, slide movement started up again, though it seemed to Luke a little jerkier than before. He held his hands up, palms out. ‘Good. You should. Accidents happen every day … and they happen fast …’ He scrubbed his hand across his face as if he could stop the flood of regrets. They stood in silence, the heat of the classroom stifling him. Harper stared at him, her head tilted on the side, a questioning look on her face. But when she finally spoke, her tone was light.
‘Okay—I’d like to get back to the issue of the pants.’ Her face held a whisper of a smile, though her hand was still wrapped firmly around the hammer.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m not sure how it works anywhere else, but one thing I know for sure. In my classroom, I wear the pants.’
It felt like a compromise. Or as close as it was going to get today. Luke met her almost-smile with one of his own, felt himself go a little gooey on the inside as he looked at her. ‘Sure thing, Princess. You keep on rocking those tough-girl pants. Just do us both a favour and lose the hammer, okay?’
***
Luke. Pantsless. Oh the memories. What was the best tool to use to stab your own brain out? Because she couldn’t get him out of her head.
And the way he’d handled her disembowelling him—not literally, of course—in front of the class and yet come back to discuss it like a grown-up made her feel like the three-year-old. She should put herself in the naughty chair.
And now two days had passed with no sign of Luke, which felt odd. By Friday afternoon the weekend loomed long and lonely ahead. The fact that it could loom at all made her mad. Weekends never loomed before she met Luke. Thank goodness she had a thousand DIY jobs on her ‘to do’ list to keep her busy.
Only something niggled. And it seemed it started with a big fat ‘L’. For some unfathomable reason she wanted to see him. After their conversation the other day an idea had started to take hold and now it wouldn’t go away.
Maybe she could fit Luke into her schedule, as long as it didn’t clash with work. They could try spending time together in a neutral, non-work environment.
Crazy? Maybe. But maybe it wasn’t. Other than one dinner and what she’d started to refer to in her head as the night of the crazed nakedness, they’d only been together in work-like situations. In the classroom. Sawing up her tree. Back in her classroom.
Maybe she should try something else. Of her choosing. On her terms. See how it panned out.
It was a tough call. Weekends were precious: the only chance she had to tackle the larger more time-consuming jobs around her house. Would Luke be worth giving that up for? Harper toyed with the cell phone in her hands. Her finger poised over the call button. There was a concert in the park tomorrow, which might be fun. A day in the sun would be good for her. And if things didn’t work out she could fake sunstroke or pretend to get lost in the crowd. Limitless exit possibilities made the proposition more doable.
She pushed the button. Left a message. Swiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Rang back. ‘PS,’ she said, ‘if it makes you feel safer, I’ll leave my hammer at home.’ Hung up again.
Satisfaction that she’d taken the initiative swept through her and suddenly the weekend didn’t loom as much. Even if he couldn’t make it, she’d done something positive.
The phone ringing in her hand startled her from her thoughts. Luke.
‘Hi,’ she said
‘I got your messages. What time tomorrow?’ Luke’s voice sent a surprising surge of longing through her. She gulped, swallowing air that prevented her from answering for a second. ‘Harper?’
‘I’m here. About twelve would be good. That’s when the first band starts. We could go from my place.’
‘Okay, I’ll see you then. And Harper?’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s a rock concert, so we’ll both need to wear the pants.’ And he hung up.
It was all on. She’d invited Luke on a date.
Or just a day out, she thought. Depending how you looked at it. Two people wearing pants and going to a concert in the park on a sunny summer day. She could do that. She could take the day off from sanding the floor and the sky wouldn’t fall.
Said sky was clear and blue the next day when Luke’s truck pulled into her driveway. She peered out the window and watched as he stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the house. His confident swagger pulled her gaze to where his faded jeans hung on his slim hips. He wore a black T-shirt, which emphasised his arms and fitted snugly across his broad chest. She knew from recent experience that under that T-shirt were abs, if not actually of steel, at least of something pretty, jolly good. She knew this because she had a clear memory of her hands wandering along them. Slipping over skin. She’d liked it a lot and could possibly like it again.
Maybe.
She ran her fingers through her hair, which was in desperate need of a cut. It felt hot and heavy in her hand as she twisted the long curls on top of her head for a second to cool her neck, before releasing it all to tumble down her back. She wished she’d dressed differently, but there was no time to change now, as he stood, hand poised to knock on her front door.
A rush of heat swept over her as she opened up. Partially attributable to the midday summer temperature, the other part pure Luke. The prospect of a glorious day with a glorious man so much more appealing than battling alone with the floor sander.
‘Snap,’ said Luke, grinning as his gaze swept over her faded jeans, black T-shirt and sneakers. ‘We’ll blend in with the roadies.’ They set off down the drive.
‘We’ll take my truck,’ said Luke. He looked up at the sky, which spread perfect and cloudless above them.
‘We’ll never get a park.’
‘It’s too far to walk and I have a VIP parking spot, if that helps. It’s the only reason I drove my new truck today.’
‘You? A VIP? How?’
‘Friends with one of the bands. The Jetts.’ He opened the car door and reached into the car for his sunglasses. ‘You got sunblock on? I always forget my ears.’
Harper laughed. ‘And I was standing here thinking you were The Man. I love the Jetts! They’re my go-to music choice when I’m working at home. So cool.’ She tried to suppress another burst of laughter. ‘But then you start talking about sunblock.’
Amusement flickered in Luke’s face. ‘I’m also friends with the first aid guys at the venue. Half the casualties at these events are a result of too much sun and not enough water.’
‘Good to know, grandma.’
‘You do nothing for a guy’s ego, you know that, don’t you?’
‘The guys I’ve come across in the past are better off for it.’
‘For having their pride smashed underfoot? Seems a bit extreme, even for a woman like you.’ He walked around the side of the truck to stand before her.
‘What do you mean, a woman like me?’
Luke reached out an arm to rest it on the truck, leaning towards her. He made a soft humming sound in his throat, as he chose his words. ‘I mean someone who perhaps doesn’t know her own strength and has more of an effect on others than she thinks she does. A woman who draws people in but is then disappointed when they don’t live up to her own high standards.’ Luke tucked a wayward curl behind Harper’s ear and leaned a little closer. ‘The problem with us, is that I know, on some weird twisty Harper’s-world level, that you really like me—no matter how much you’re trying to deny it to both of us. It’s the only reason I’m here. If you really, really wanted to kick me for touch, you’d have done it by now.’
His thumb trailed down her cheek and along her jaw, a light brush that sent shivers of delight sparking through her system. Slowly dawdling across her bottom lip the caressing fingertip felt rough against her skin. She grabbed his hand, not sure whether her intention was to stop the wandering fingers or to hold them in place so she could freeze the moment. Savour the warmth of his skin, the slight callous on his palm, the scent of coconut sunscreen.
She was like a coconut. Luke had peeled away her outer fibrous husk and exposed the shell hidden beneath, which looked tough but was actually thin; feeble protection against someone undeterred by her defences. She breathed deeply, her eyelids fluttering as his face came closer, knowing he was about to kiss her. His gaze held hers fleetingly before his mouth descended in a crushing kiss. There was nothing gentle or gentlemanly about this kiss. He backed her against the truck, the length of his body pressing against hers as his hands moved to hold her head, angling her to deepen the kiss. The vehicle was hot beneath her back, as hard and unyielding as Luke. Trapped between a truck and a hard place, her last coherent thought was that there was nothing to do but kiss her way out of it.
And kiss she did, her lips meeting his with joyous abandon that washed all sensibility from her mind and wrung moans from her that could probably be heard from across the street. The man knew how to kiss. If he hadn’t had her pressed upright against the truck she’d have slumped to the ground on shaking knees. His magic mouth trailed hot and wet down the sensitive cord of her neck and she threw back her head, flagrantly offering herself up for more.
The resultant tingles ricocheted through her, rocketing down, down, down to her nether regions, where a steady hum had started to build. Luke adjusted his position, pushing his denim-clad thigh between Harper’s legs and she pressed herself against him, suddenly too hot, her jeans too tight. She sighed with frustrated pleasure against his mouth and allowed herself the tiniest wiggle against his thigh. Just one, before reluctantly giving him a shove.
He’d done it again. Reduced her to a sex-crazed beast, only seconds away from goodness-knows-what in the driveway. She was clammy and wanting and he was hard and waiting, his lips still trailing heat across her collarbone, his thigh still a persistent pressure between her legs.
‘The show,’ Harper mumbled.
‘What show?’ Luke’s gaze swung briefly round before zeroing back on her. ‘Oh, you mean the one we’re giving the neighbours?’ His eyes were hooded as he gazed down at her, allowing her a moment to focus.
‘The show—I mean the concert. The one we haven’t made it to because we’re making out in the driveway.’ Harper stared at Luke. His lips looked a little swollen, even as they lifted into the most adorable smirk, compelling her to lean forward on tip toes and kiss him again. ‘The Jetts—remember? Sunscreen?’
‘Oh yeah. That’s right. Though maybe you shouldn’t go out in the sun with such delicate skin,’ said Luke, running his hands up her arms, then down her back until they rested under her bottom. Gently, he pulled her towards him and she placed her slender arms around his neck as he lifted her till they were eye to eye. Forehead to forehead. Together they took a deep, steadying breath.
‘I think I’ll survive,’ said Harper.
‘That goes without saying.’ Luke pulled away and opened the door of the truck for Harper, who noticed for the first time the signwriting on the new vehicle.
‘Colton Construction? You’re Colton Construction?’ Her voice rose in pitch and she stepped back, staring at the truck.
Luke frowned. ‘Yeah. I told you I had a construction company. And my name’s Colton …’
‘That’s not a construction company, it’s a friggin’ conglomerate.’
‘Hardly. Though we do own a few holdings not directly related to the construction industry. What’s the problem here?’
‘Nothing. No problem. I just hadn’t—didn’t click it was you, is all.’ Harper stumbled over her words. She could hardly say ‘everyone will think I’m just using you to get a step up’, could she now?