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CARSON
If she’s trying to seduce me, it’s working. With her hair up the way I like it, loose tendrils hanging down by her neck, and her leg pressed to mine in the booth, there’s little else I can do but be seduced by her.
“Let’s get another drink,” she suggests.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s early still.”
Early by normal standards, sure, but I’ve been getting up at the crack of dawn in order to work. No, in order to work out my sexual frustration. Libby walked off on me that day, left me out in the rain without any kind of outlet. That in itself had been hard—but worse because I felt like she was fighting a war against herself. Convincing herself to stay far away from me because of the kind of person she thinks I am.
More than once since then I’ve thought about Kyle’s offer. It’d probably be easier for everyone all around.
But I just can’t make myself walk away from the Devereaux house. Or Libby.
Our round of drinks arrives and she slides her wine in front of her. “Tell me how you learned so much about houses.”
I shrug. “Not much to tell. My dad was gone a lot when I was young. My mom liked to remodel and renovate about every ten minutes, so I learned how to do it. We’d take classes at the local hardware store, and it all started to stick. We fixed up our house from scratch pretty much. I took classes in college, too. Thought I might get into architecture, but all I really wanted was to get my hands dirty.”
Her eyes drop down to my fingers curled around my glass of beer. She bites her lip, and it kills me not to reach out and kiss that mouth. To take her bottom lip between mine and tug. And then work my way down her jaw and then her collarbone. And then…well, the rest of what I want to do isn’t fit for a public place. Even a bar as dark and moody as this one.
“Your turn,” I say.
“Oh.” She takes a long swallow of wine. “Not as interesting as your story. Like I said, it’s sort of a family business.”
A song starts up, loud enough it’s hard to hear her quiet voice over the sound of drums and the electric guitar. But I don’t give up, just pitch my voice higher and lean in. “You’re not going to get away that easily.”
Her eyes come up to meet mine. “I’m not trying to get away from anything.”
“Good.”
Her leg presses against mine when she shifts. She licks her lips. Hell. I can’t help myself.
I reach out to set my hand on her knee, and she smiles before saying “My dad used to be in real estate. Then one day he decided the real money was in flipping houses. So he started small, but soon he was buying up houses and condos all over the place and turning them around. He had a whole team of people, got my brother on board—I even worked with them for a bit. But it was all very corporate by that time. On our end. And I wanted…well, what you said.”
“To get your hands dirty,” I murmur.
Her fingers trace the top of my hand. “Yes.”
“You miss working with your family?”
She laughs and drinks more. “Not at all. My dad was always off with whichever girlfriend he wanted that week—same with my brother. Like it was all one big game. It—” She breaks off and gives a small smile. “Family stuff. You know how it is.”
My jaw clenches when the reality of what she said hits me. “Wait. Is that why you are the way you are with me? Why you said what you said that first week we were in the house?”
She angles her head. “What did I say?”
“You said you know my type. Why type is that exactly?”
She drops her gaze. “I didn’t…I didn’t know you then.”
“You didn’t answer my question. What type was that?” I squeeze her knee gently. “Like your father and your brother?”
“Like I said, I didn’t know you then. I thought…” She lifts her chin. “I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me.”
“You didn’t trust me,” I say quietly.
She leans in, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. It makes my gut clench. “It’s not because of you. It’s because of me.”
“Do you trust me now?” I ask.
“I think…I do. You’ve been working so hard and you haven’t walked out on the project. That means a lot to me. And it feels like the place means a lot to you, too.”
“It does.”
She flashes a smile, completely disarming me. “So I thought I’d make it up to you. Show you I can let loose.”
“It wasn’t a challenge, Libby. I didn’t mean to make it seem like you can’t have fun.”
She moves a little closer and her lips brush my ear. “But it’s true. Sometimes I get too caught up in schedules and rules. I want to have a little fun.”
She stresses the last word, and a jolt goes straight through my body, hitting me in the groin. Part of me thinks she’s still trying to prove a point, but then I remind myself she’s a grown woman. A woman who smells like flowers and looks like a goddess. A woman who’s sliding her fingers up and down my thigh.
“I have an idea,” she says.
I turn my lips to her ear. Her hair brushes my cheek. “You’re killing me, Libby.”
“Really?”
The surprise in her voice shocks me. Does she think she’s not capable of bringing me to my knees? “Do you know how bad I want you right now?”
She presses her lips to my cheek. “I feel the same way.”
I shift in the seat. “Shit. Please tell me that’s part of tonight’s plan.”
“If you want.”
“Exactly what I want.” I move to get out of the booth. “Let’s go.”