Chapter Seven

 

The next evening, at six o’clock sharp, she pulled back around in front of Wade’s massive house, heart calm, pulse steady, determined to do this thing—the one thing she did know how to do.

Sign the contract. List the house. Sell the house. Happy client. The end.

Without allowing herself the luxury of panic or indecision, she got out, tugged her linen skirt down, and tossed her hair off her shoulders. She noted the massive truck she’d parked behind at the party yesterday in front of one of the three garage doors. The late afternoon was oppressive, weighing heavy on her chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.

Yeah, blame it on the weather, Sam. Jesus. Stop it. He’s just a man. A man you fucked and walked away from, and hip-hip-hurray for you for doing that. For breaking your drought and in a relatively spectacular fashion. Rest assured that it barely registered with him. He probably does shit like that every day.

Sh marched herself across the paving stone path and up to the double, dark walnut doors with fancy inlaid glass. For the second time in her life, she rang Wade Roberts’s doorbell. She waited, then rang again. With a sigh, she did it one more time, then cursed and started back to her car.

He’d invited her. She’d shown up. He’d blown her off again. If she had any doubts about how much he’d been impacted by their hookup at the party, this put those to rest. “Fucking Roberts,” she said, yanking open the SUV door.

“Hey, uh, Sam?” She closed her eyes at the sound of his low voice. “Sorry. I was in the shower. Come on back.”

She sighed and slammed the door, then marched up to him. Wade stood in his open doorway, dressed in nothing but a towel. Water dripped down his neck and bare chest. She blinked at the six-pack perfection of his abs, at the remembered—okay, memorized—musculature of his arms. “My eyes are up here,” he said. She tore her gaze from the towel and glared at him. His deep, chocolate-brown eyes shone. His full lips turned up in a smirk. Anger buzzed through her brain.

“You know, I’d sure be interested to know what you look like with clothes on,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning away from him. Her throat was closing up, but she couldn’t let him know that. She swallowed hard. “Considering we’ve yet to encounter each other with you wearing much more than that.” She jerked her chin, indicating the towel he had gripped in one fist.

The smirk morphed into a real grin. Unable to stop herself, she mirrored it, then looked away when she sensed her neck, face, and ears heating up, giving away her inner turmoil.

“Yeah, you’re right.” His drawl wasn’t thick, betraying him as a non-native. “Come on in. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

She peeked in, looking left and right. “No company this time?”

He chuckled. The sound made her shiver. “Nah, I’m all alone. Waitin’ for you.”

“Don’t try and charm me, Roberts. I’m here to work.”

He raised a light brown eyebrow at her, and the gesture was so innocent, so devoid of guile or flirtation, it made her fluttery all over. She set her jaw. “Go on,” she gestured for him to move away. “Get some clothes on, already.”

His grin widened as he passed a hand around the back of his neck. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. He let the towel drop before he ambled down the long hall. The show-off. She bit her lip at the sight of that sweet, muscled ass but then looked away, determined to make this visit go the way she’d planned.

By the time he graced her with his fully clothed presence, she’d done a quick sweep of the combo living-dining room with its limestone hearth and mantle and had taken the measure of the fabulous kitchen. Sam had seen her fair share of over-the-top kitchens. It took a lot to impress her. But the Roberts kitchen was a work of art, a perfect combination of commercial-grade and luxury touches. The island alone probably cost twenty thousand, what with the solid hickory base cabinets and the vast expanse of stainless steel atop it.

“So, whaddaya think?”

She jumped, allowing a tiny tingle of satisfaction that, at this particular moment, she had the upper hand. Turning slowly, she fixed a neutral expression on her face. Wade leaned against the rare granite hightop eating bar, dressed in dark jeans and an unnecessarily form-fitting polo-style shirt with the Dallas Fire and Rescue emblem where the little horse and rider would normally be. His feet remained bare. His hair gleamed wet. His jaw was smoothly shaved. His arms, crossed over his chest, transfixed her for a second until she got a grip on herself.

“I need to see the rest of it,” she declared, mirroring him by crossing her arms. That raised eyebrow again—she tried to suppress the whole-body shudder, frowning instead, feigning impatience.

“Of course,” he said after an inordinate amount of time spent staring at her. “This way.” He held out one arm, indicating she should precede him out into the dark hardwood-floored hallway.

She squared her shoulders, gave him her best non-committal smile, and headed across the enormous kitchen in his general direction.

“You know,” he said as they passed within inches of each other, freezing her on the spot. “You do that a lot. It can’t be good for you.” He touched her arm, sending a shock all the way through her.

She blinked fast, willing her feet to move. They disobeyed her. “Do what, exactly?”

“This,” he said, his voice low and soft in an uncharacteristic way. His fingertip grazed her jaw. “I can see you clenching it from a mile away.”

Sam closed her eyes at his touch. “I . . . it’s . . . I don’t know.”

He exhaled and tightened his grip on her arm. They stood, her facing down the hall, him facing her, for more seconds than she could account for until he let her go, leaving her oddly bereft. She allowed herself a quick peek at him, regretting it the second she met his deep brown gaze. “Headaches,” he said. “You must get real whoppers.”

Her hand shook when she touched her temple, still slightly swollen from her klutz move the day before. He brushed past her and ambled down the hallway, opening doors as he went.

“Two smaller bedrooms,” he pointed out. “All set up with furniture that I also want to be sold.” He opened the third door. “A room for my, um, supplies,” he said. “Doubled, once upon a time, as an office.”

Sam made a point to enter each of the rooms, unable to stop admiring the classy furnishings and art. Each room looked staged, unused, and her brain spun at the cost put into the decorating choices. He lingered in the doorway as she perused the office, which was dominated by a gigantic partner’s desk and a mostly empty bookshelf. She frowned when she noted the storage chest. Almost as big as the massive desk, it was the old-fashioned kind, the sort that could contain a pirate’s treasure.

Wade cleared his throat. “It’s nothing,” he said. She glanced at him, noting the sudden high color in his cheeks. “I’ll get it out before you show it to anyone.”

She put her hand on the dome top for reasons she couldn’t express, other than to see how he’d react. He flinched and moved toward her, inserting himself between her and the thing as if shielding her from it.

“Got a body in there or something?”

“Nah, nothing that exciting. Come on, let’s finish the grand tour.”

He rushed her through the rest—the master suite with its heavy furniture and spa-worthy bathroom; the basement with his state-of-the-art weights, cross trainer, rowing machine and spinning bike, all facing a wall of windows that looked out onto the vast expanse of green lawn alongside the patio and pool; the media room with huge screen and sound system; and the fifth bedroom, complete with its own private bath.

As they made their way back upstairs, she let her hand trail along the heavy wood banister, as she lost herself in thought. “You put a lot of money into this,” she said. “You inherited it, right?”

He turned before opening the French doors to the patio. “How’d you know that?”

“Public record. It’s sort of my job to know who owns what.”

“Huh, well, yeah. I did. I’ve owned it for—”

“Twelve years,” she interrupted him, sensing his sudden discomfort. “All your renovation permits got pulled at once, including the exterior stuff—pool and all that—about nine years ago.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So . . . tell me what happened. This is hardly a bachelor pad.”

Wade’s eyes darkened. “I’m sure Skye and Jax filled you in already. Come on. I gotta get to work in a few, so let’s wrap this up. You bring papers for me to sign or what?”

She didn’t move. She had brought the entire listing packet, including the contract, but had left everything in the SUV. After spending the past twelve or so hours in a stew of anticipation, remorse, and anxiety, only to circle around back to eager, shivery anticipation, she’d made a decision about Wade Roberts.

She took a long breath. “I like you,” she declared, crossing her arms.

He seemed to relax at that, which gave her a modicum of encouragement.

“I mean, I’m not terribly proud of what I . . . what we did yesterday. But I want to be totally honest with you, Wade. I haven’t been with a man in nearly five years. Not since I finally got rid of the man who’d held me emotionally hostage for a solid four years in college.”

Wade stood up straighter. His eyes flashed, and his fists clenched at his sides.

“Spare me the caveman act, please. He did a serious number on my psyche, but he’s long gone.” She shrugged and leaned back against the island counter top, her pulse calming, which was the clue she needed to know she’d done the right thing coming here and telling him this. “It’s taken me right about this long to get over it, I think. You . . .” She made an awkward up-and-down gesture with one hand. His grin widened. “You came along at a good time for me. I was . . . ready, I guess.”

“Glad I have such great timing.” His low voice set fire smoldering in her belly. But she quelled it and held up her hand to keep him from moving any closer. She had another message for this man. An important one.

“I’ll list your place, Wade. I don’t need to see any more of it. It’s worth about two million, but the problem is that it’s a little overbuilt for the area and size. I mean, most buyers willing to shell out that kind of coin are looking for more than five acres, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know.” He slumped back against the French doors and swiped a hand across his lips. Sam saw how much that hand shook. “Honestly, I don’t care what you list it for. I want it gone. I don’t owe much on it, but . . .” He hesitated. “Well, I guess you know what I owe on it, huh?”

Sam nodded. Anything over two hundred grand would be pure profit for him, even after he paid out the commissions and closing fees.

“Here’s what I propose,” she said, putting her hand on the cool countertop to steady herself. “You take me to dinner tomorrow night.” She smiled when his eyes narrowed, confusion apparent on his face. “Someplace nice, as in we have to dress all the way up for it. You choose the place. You can pick me up at seven o’clock. Here’s my address,” she said, putting her card on the counter, having already handwritten her condo’s location as part of her plan to initiate this craziness.

Her voice was steady, thank goodness, because she was shaking all over inside as she kept her gaze on the man across the room from her. “I want to know more about you, Wade,” she said, smoothing her already smooth skirt along her thighs. A nervous tick that drew his gaze up and down her body in a way that made her mentally put on the brakes to keep from launching herself across the room at him.

“But even though I really would love for you to pick me up and carry me into that over-the-top bedroom of yours, I won’t let you. Not until we get to know each other better.”

He blinked fast, processing this, she assumed. She sucked in a breath. “I want to see you dressed all the way up,” she reminded him, crossing her arms again and giving him an obvious once-over. “And I want to share a good bottle of wine and a great steak with you. Then we can talk about . . .” She gave a flick of her fingers. “The listing plan.”

He chuckled. She smiled and resisted the urge to clench her jaw, still feeling the cool tips of his fingers from earlier, calming and soothing her the way no one ever had. “Deal?”

He frowned, scratched his chin, looked up, then down, then back at her. “I get to pick the place, right?”

She nodded, losing her ability to control herself so much her knees were about to be useless in the holding-her-up department.

“Deal,” he said, moving away from her and heading for the front door. She waited a beat, gathering her wits about her before following him. He stood, holding one of the large dark wooden doors ajar. “Better go now, Sam,” he said, caressing the one syllable of her name in a way that made her shiver. “I make no promises about my ability to control myself around you. So, if the lady wants to be wined and dined, then that is what the lady will get.” He bowed low and made a grand, sweeping motion with his arm, indicating she should leave.

She walked out, heart pounding in her ears. When she reached her SUV door, she sensed him behind her. Determined to make her exit and not give in to what every cell and molecule in her body were screaming for right then—to make him take her back inside and not emerge for days—she swallowed and turned to face him. Wade was close, too close for anything but a personal moment. But she let him do it. She wanted him close.

He smiled and traced the line of her jaw once more with his rough finger. “You sure you want to know all my secrets?” he asked in a whisper, his lips hovering, teasing and tempting her.

She nodded, biting her lower lip in yet another nervous tick. He made a sound deep down in his throat—a sound she remembered, a sound that made her entire lower body feel like it was dissolving—then slid his hand alongside her face and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, giving it a little nip before letting her go and stepping away. She stumbled forward, having already been leaning into him, ready and willing to toss off the whole ‘take me out on a date’ thing right then and there.

Wade grabbed her elbow to keep her from face-planting, then let her go. “See you tomorrow night, Sam,” he said, then turned on his bare heel and headed back inside, leaving her breathless and fairly thrumming with lust.