RIAN
Pierce runs inside to change and returns a minute later—sadly he’s covered his magnificent chest with a T-shirt and he’s changed into cargo shorts, but he’s still gorgeous, so I’ll take it. Trip follows behind him, tail down between his legs, eyes sad and anxious.
He stays close to Pierce’s legs when they reach the bottom of the stairs. “Is he okay?”
“Just nervous. Lawson’s temper tantrum freaked the poor guy out.” He scratches behind Trip’s ear.
“Does he have tantrums like that often?”
“Not typically. He’s had a bug up his ass the past week. I don’t really know what’s going on there.”
I take off my strappy-heeled sandals and fix them to my purse while Pierce slips his feet into bright-green running shoes, and we hit the beach.
I revel in the soft warmth of the sand between my toes. One day I hope we’ll be able to live on the beach again, not just buy and sell houses here. “So what happened to make yesterday so bad?”
He regards me carefully for a moment. “I’m sorry about the messages last night. I wasn’t in the best headspace. The reason I have time off this summer is because I made a mistake with a patent; it caused a few issues and we’re still sorting them out. I was stuck in a meeting I didn’t want any part of for most of the day, and we made virtually no progress.” We pause as Trip leans to one side and marks a bush, no leg lift necessary. “And then I ran into my ex.” He’s not looking at me as he says this. His gaze is focused off in the distance and the words come slowly, like they’re being dragged out of him.
My chest grows tight; it feels a lot like jealousy. “Is this the three-year relationship you were in?”
His eyes shoot to mine, surprise quirking his brow.
“It was on your questionnaire for the dating site.”
“Right. How could I forget about that? The one that deems us pretty much as incompatible as two people can get?” I’m sure he means it jokingly, but there’s a dark bite to his words. He shakes his head a little. “Sorry. I’m being an asshole. But yeah, it was the three-year relationship.”
“It ended badly, then?” I don’t know if relationships ever end well. Mine never have.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets, seeming suddenly vulnerable. “We were engaged. She broke it off.”
That’s not at all what I expected to hear. I stupidly assumed he was the one who couldn’t commit. Maybe I should know better by now, considering the way he’s relentlessly pursued me. “I’m so sorry.” I want to ask why she broke it off. What happened to make a woman walk away from him, but I don’t, because I like that he’s opening up to me without any prompting. I want this connection with him, even if it makes me uncomfortable.
“It was a long time ago. I’m over it. It’s not like I’m still hung up on her or anything. She proved to be untrustworthy and a ladder climber, so I’m much better off without her in my life.” He licks his lips and shakes his head. “What was the point of me telling you this?”
“Why yesterday was so bad,” I remind him.
“Oh, right.” He runs a hand through his hair, his smile sheepish. “The meeting, some stuff with my family, running into my ex … just a shit day. I was looking for a ray of sunshine to make it better.”
“Ray of sunshine? That’s a first.” I drag my toes through the sand. “I meant to message you this morning, but then we had the meeting with the Paulsons. I didn’t expect it to go so long.”
“I can see why you wouldn’t have, messaged me back, I mean.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.”
We pass beach house sixty-nine. The last time I was here we had counter sex. Clearly this attraction isn’t waning, and I’m past caring that we’ve gone about this the opposite of normal. What makes me nervous is that I want to spend more time with him, and more time means I’ll eventually have to reciprocate his sharing with pieces of myself.
When we reach the Franklin bungalow, Pierce pauses. “Do you mind if we stop here for a minute?”
“Sure. Are the renos coming along okay?”
Pierce nods, his face lighting up with his smile. “We’re making good progress.”
The smell of fresh paint and new finishes are sharp in the air as he opens the door and ushers me inside.
“Are you doing most of this yourself again?” It’s a lot of work in a short span of time.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, regarding the space with a critical eye. “Since the goal is to rent and not flip, it doesn’t make sense to put the same amount of time and energy into the project. We want to get it on the rental market as quickly as possible.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that.”
He lifts a shoulder. “We could’ve gotten top dollar with higher-grade finishes if the point was resale. This is like half-assed cosmetics. It’s not economical to go high end if we’re renting. Things are going to get damaged no matter how good the renters are. Plus, I’m committed to having pet friendly rentals, so I have to take that into account with the finishes.”
“Makes sense. Does that bother you?”
He runs his hand across the counter. It’s granite, so he certainly hasn’t cheaped out there. “I’m not big on half assing.”
Flashes of how not half assed he was when we last had sex have my stomach and thighs clenching. “No. You certainly aren’t.”
One corner of my mouth turns up and his eyes heat. “I’m not sure you’re referencing my carpentry skills anymore.”
I mirror his smile. “It was sort of an all-encompassing statement.”
He steps over Trip, who’s plunked himself down on the floor at his feet. I have a moment of panicked conflict. The intimacy that comes with his honesty pushes at the boundaries I keep in place. The chemistry between us is ever present and undeniable, but this emotional connection scares me because it’s only a matter of time before I can no longer keep them separate from each other.
His rough, callused fingertips glide gently up my arm. I shiver and my skin breaks out in a wave of goose bumps. I can handle this, the physical need. I can focus on this. He drops his head, lips close to mine. I don’t dare move, already aware of how much joy he seems to derive from tormenting me. “I’m so glad you stopped fighting this.”
“Fighting what?”
“Us.” The tip of his nose brushes mine. “I want in you.”
Panic flares at the possibility that he means it beyond the literal.
I slip my hands under his shirt, fingers gliding over bare skin as I lift my head. It’s too late to stop this. Whatever the consequences, I’m already in this so much deeper than I mean to be, but I can’t seem to walk away, even if it’s the safer option.
Pierce’s lips find mine, and my worries get lost in the spark of desire.