I open my eyes to early morning sunlight streaming through a strange bedroom window, and it takes me a few disoriented moments to unfrazzle my sleepy thoughts and remember where I am. Aunt Rita’s guest house, visiting the Wolcotts, and Elias rocking my world on its axis.

Never. And I repeat, never, have I experienced anything like what had happened last night at Elias’s hands…his mouth…his… Yeah, better to stop there. A mouthwatering fragrance teases my nose. I sniff and glance at the bedside table where I find a thermos of what I hope is coffee, a muffin, and a note propped against a mug. Elias left me breakfast. My heart does a flip. I unscrew the thermos, and a waft of fresh-brewed coffee assails my senses. I pour a cup and sniff. Vanilla, maybe.

I plump the pillows behind me, lean back against the brass headboard, and take a bite of the muffin. Yum. Banana nut with chocolate chips. My favorite, and I bet homemade. Probably from Aunt Rita’s kitchen this very morning. I take a sip of coffee and can’t believe it’s exactly the way I like it. How did Elias know? I think back over the week we’d shared together, and only remember having coffee with him twice. Had he been that observant? That was kinda…sweet, actually. Something so simple and thoughtful makes me feel special. Was this how he’d been dubbed Heartbreaker by the media? Did he make women fall in lust with him by his crazy sex skills, make them feel as if he cared, and then break their hearts when he moves on?

No. I shake my head, even though I’m the only one here. I don’t believe that. The man I’ve gotten to know over the past days wouldn’t do that. He really is a nice, kind man, and I’m not going to overthink what we did last night. Other than the lack of a condom, I have no regrets about what we did. In fact, I hope we have a do-over before he leaves. Sex with Banks is good. But sex with Elias is phenomenal. I knew it would be.

After taking a few sips of coffee, I open the note from Elias. His handwriting is decidedly male with sharp angles and strong lines. No extra flourishes or curlicues. Much like the man.

Good morning sleepyhead. Meet me outside when you’re ready.

Enjoy,

Elias

I finish my breakfast, make a quick trip to the bathroom, then carry my mug and plate to the kitchen to wash. I catch a glimpse of Elias and Aunt Rita from the window over the sink. Elias is up on a ladder cleaning debris from the gutters running along the edge of the roofline. I probably should be concerned with how high up he is, but all I can really focus on is how nicely his jeans fit in the rear. I’m shameless, but not deterred.

I watch in silent appreciation as his muscles flex as he pulls gunk from the gutter and tosses it into a wheelbarrow on the ground. My breasts swell, remembering how those muscles felt under my palms. Elias turns and says something to Aunt Rita. My eyes go straight to his mouth. Those irresistibly kissable lips are turned slightly upward as he speaks, then he throws his head back and laughs at something Rita says. Ahh, that mouth. Last night, those lips completely wiped me of any intelligible thought. I would have gladly reciprocated. Actually, I’d been disappointed when I didn’t get to taste him. I know he was turned on—I saw and felt the evidence. The very impressive evidence. He wanted me. But he wanted to keep us safe at the cost of a very uncomfortable and unfulfilling night…for him.

I continue to enjoy the view as I wash the dirty dishes. Reluctantly, I dress, straighten the bedroom and bath, and grab my purse. I take one last look. Aunt Rita’s is a very special place. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what we shared here. I pull the door shut behind me and make my way to Elias as he climbs down the ladder and rolls the wheelbarrow to a refuse pile at the back of the lawn. He pauses when he’s beside me. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

“Yes. I slept very well.” I smile timidly, and want to feel his arms around me again.

His intense gaze makes me lightheaded. I see so many things in the depths of his green eyes. It’s strange—we’re swapping polite platitudes, yet our eyes are having a completely different conversation. I feel his penetrating gaze move to my lips. He wants to kiss me, and I want it just as much. Maybe too much. His gaze moves back to mine. “Regrets?” he seems to ask. I slowly shake my head. Not a single one. Well, I did regret that we weren’t able to share more.

Thirty minutes later, we leave Aunt Rita’s with a brown paper bag full of muffins for the road, which is good because Elias finished the cookies Ms. Blanche gave us yesterday before we even reached the Wolcott’s.

Elias takes my hand as we walk to his car. He opens my door and waits until I’m seated and buckled before closing it. I shiver when our eyes meet through the windshield as he walks around to the driver’s side.

“You okay?” he asks before he starts the car.

“Fine,” I’m quick to answer. Better than fine. He backs out, and when we turn the corner, Elias pulls to the side of the road and puts the car in park.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up straighter in the seat.

Elias takes my hand and pulls. “Come here.”

I slide over the console and into his lap and before I really know what’s happening, Elias’s lips take control of my mouth, my tongue, my senses. A passing car horn breaks us apart. We both smile, but I don’t move.

“There. I needed a morning kiss.” He smiles into my eyes and touches my cheek.

“Hum.” That’s really all I can get out. I’m still dazed as he buckles me back up and pulls back onto the road. He chuckles, and I glare at his delight at my inability to communicate just yet. “You’re dangerous.”

He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I snicker, not believing him for a second. He knows exactly what effect he has on women. “Of course you do. And I bet you use it to your advantage frequently. Your life must be very exciting. I may have seen some pictures of you in the news attending movie premieres and charity balls.”

His expression darkens. “Well, the media loves creating stories about me. Don’t believe everything you read or see. I’m far less exciting than they make me out to be.”

I’m not sure I believe that. We ride along in relaxed silence. I sneak a glance at his hands as they rest on the steering wheel. Rachael was right. He does have long fingers, and she was also correct about his knowledge of using them to their fullest potential. My core clenches from the memory of the touch of those fingers. I can’t explain why, but suddenly it’s very important to me that Elias knows that what I did last night isn’t normal for me. “I’ve never slept with someone that I didn’t have a relationship with first.”

He chuckles and glances my way. “Other than me, you mean?”

That didn’t sound exactly right. I agree, we haven’t known each other long, but I don’t feel as if he’s a stranger. But maybe last night only felt like more to me. Elias is certainly well-versed with brief encounters. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to think…”

“I know, April. Listen, I’m going to be in town until the wedding. Is there any reason we can’t work to give Belinda a dream wedding and enjoy our time together as well?”

“You mean you want to sleep with me again?” He picks up my hand resting on the console and presses his lips to my wrist. I shiver at his touch—my core tightens.

“I want to do much more than sleep, and this time I will make sure to be prepared.”

I want more time with Elias. But the most important thing to remember is he’s only here until after the wedding. That in itself is a good thing. Emotions won’t have time to complicate whatever this is we’re doing. “I want that, too. But if you don’t mind, could we use the condoms I already have at my apartment? This is a small town. There’s only the corner drugstore, and before the day is up, everyone in town will know. Trust me when I say it won’t take long for people to figure out who you’re using them with.”

He chuckles and squeezes my hand. “Small towns are great. Have you ever wanted to live anywhere else?”

Elias doesn’t turn my hand loose, and I’m good with that. “I’ve never really thought about it. I guess it’s just never been an option. I would like to travel someday. I’ve never really been out of North Carolina much. We went to Disney World when Rachael and I were ten, and our fifth-grade class went to Washington D. C. for a week. I’m afraid that’s the extent of my travels.”

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

I lean my head back against the seat and smile. “You’ll laugh.”

He crosses his heart and grins, “I promise I will not laugh.”

“I know you probably expect me to say some exotic and faraway place. I would like to travel abroad, but I’d just love to see all the sights our country has to offer. The places I’ve heard about, read about, and seen on television all my life. Those are the places I’d love to see.”

“Like what?” he asks.

“Well, like the Grand Canyon. I heard you can take a donkey tour to the floor of the canyon. And Niagara Falls. Sure, I’ve seen it in print and in movies plenty of times, but I’d love to feel the water misting over my face on one of those boat rides at the bottom of the falls. I’d love to go to Hollywood and see the sign and actually sit in the audience of some of my favorite shows. I’ve grown up surrounded by mountains and trees, and I can’t imagine what a desert would look like. I bet you’ve done all those things, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, except attend shows. I’ve been on some of my favorite shows.”

I watch his profile, and he seems genuinely interested. “I think I’ve seen you on several of them. Is Danni as funny and sweet as she seems on her show?”

“Even more so. I’ve actually done some work for her on several of her houses. Well, I didn’t actually do the work—we just collaborated, and I oversaw the completion of the work. I’m too busy with my own schedule to do much more than that. You know, you should come out and visit our set.”

That’s the first time he’s mentioned anything past the wedding. “Is that like an invitation?”

He didn’t say anything for a full minute, then slowly nodded. “Yes. Consider this a formal invitation to visit me.”

The fact that he had to stop and think about it made me pause with my own answer. I honestly don’t know if I want to see Elias after the end of next week. I already find him too compelling. So, I give him what I can live with. A vague answer. “Yeah, maybe.”

He nods and asks, “Why don’t you travel now?”

I watch the passing landscape as I answer. “Between the shop and working on the remodel, there’s just no time or money. We’ve sunk everything we have into the house.”

He pauses. “It seems we both had family responsibilities change our directions in life.”

“That’s why it’s so important to make White’s Manor a success. It’s the first thing Rachael and I have done that is just us. We never really considered buying the house or opening an event center. We’ve always loved the house. I use to dream about living there. When it came on the market, we never even considered buying it. The longer it sat with no interested buyers, the more it just seemed like it belonged to us. We did a lot of research and found that with Asheville being so close, an event center could be highly popular.”

“You have a business plan?” he glances over and asks.

“Of course.”

“If what you’ve done for Belinda’s wedding is any indication, then I know you’ll be a huge success.” He squeezes my hand, and I feel all fluttery inside from his praise.

We stopped for lunch at my favorite barbeque restaurant. Elias never had a barbeque sandwich with red slaw. Which, in my opinion, means he’s never had real pork barbeque. We’re very serious about our barbeque here in North Carolina. The rest of the trip home is spent in quiet reflection and simply getting to know each other. But not for a second did I forget our night together.

By the time we pull into White Oaks Apartments, it’s late afternoon, and I debate whether or not to invite Elias up. I want to. Badly. And that’s why I think I maybe shouldn’t. Would he even want to come up? I’m making a big assumption that he would. And I’m rambling…in my mind. How pathetic is that?

“April,” Elias says quietly.

My internal debate halts. I turn my head, and our eyes connect. He’s been watching me intently through my ridiculous deliberation.

He smiles and says, “Don’t overthink it.”

How does he always know what I’m thinking? “Do you want to come in? We can work a bit on the wedding and then I can make you dinner. Nothing elaborate, I’m afraid. Probably nothing like you’re used to.” I don’t want him to go.

“April,” he says, touching my chin.

I tip my eyes upward and find the corner of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

Our gazes meet, and he smiles. “I’d love to. But just because I enjoy spending time with you doesn’t mean we have to do anything more.”

“Okay.” I agree, but if I’m being honest with myself, I hope that isn’t the case. We meet at the front of the car. Elias takes my hand again. I’m beginning to get used to having his fingers tangled with mine, which isn’t a smart move. Yet, I don’t pull away. I close my fingers around his, and he squeezes mine in return.

Usually I can make it from the parking lot to the door of my apartment in three minutes. With Elias, it took more than thirty. Sometimes I forget I live in a hundred-year-old building that was once a thriving cotton mill. I don’t mind taking him on a tour of the building and explaining as much as I know about the original white oak floor, the handmade brick that came from a nearby brick mill, or how the new owner had taken care to keep the integrity of mill untouched while bringing modern efficiency to its residents.

When we get off the freight elevator on the fourth floor, we’re still holding hands. I take my keys from my bag and unlock the door. I can feel the heat from his body behind me, and I lean into him. His arms wrap around my shoulders, and we walk inside, then he closes the door with his foot.

I lead the way down the entry hall and into the living room. Elias stops just inside the doorway and takes in the room. It’s not that large in square feet, but the massive windows overlooking the river make it feel much bigger. The exposed brick and ductwork on the ceiling give it a rustic, industrial feel. I’d kept my furniture to a minimum, partly because I like to keep things neat and orderly, but mostly because it was all I could afford. A gray upholstered couch, a vintage cart coffee table that I’d scored at a flea market, and a big overstuffed chair were the only large pieces I had. Honestly, after working all day in the shop and then at the Manor, I’ve had little time to do much more than dust occasionally and keep my clothes washed. Which reminds me—I need to close my closet door. Elias doesn’t need to see my overflowing laundry hampers. If I don’t get around to washing soon, I’m going to run out of clean clothes. I refuse to act like my brothers and dig into the dirty clothes to do the sniff-and-wear method.

The kitchen is open to the living room with a small dining table between the two. A short hallway leads to my bedroom and a hallway bath.

Elias doesn’t miss a thing. “This is really incredible, April. Are all the apartments like this?”

“Kinda. The one-bedrooms are mostly identical.”

“I’ve been in a lot of industrial remodels. I’ve even done some, but nothing this historic. I can see the integrity of the mill everywhere.” He runs his hands over the interior brickwork.

“See the building over there?” Elias moves closer to the window to see where I’m pointing. Our shoulders touch and my stomach flutters.

“The one with the glass all around?” he asks and moves behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on the top of my head.

The intimacy of our position feels familiar and comfortable. “Yeah. That’s where the owner lives when he’s here.”

His hands start to move up and down my arms. “Who is the owner?”

Shivers speed through my body as his touch becomes more intimate. “He’s a really nice man. I’ve only met him a few times. From his accent, I’d say he’s from somewhere in England.” The flutters in my stomach are increasing. Some of my hair has escaped my ponytail, and his fingers move the strands behind my shoulder.

The air in the room changes. “I should probably tell you, I can’t cook.” I have no idea where that came from. I know why Elias is here. To finish what we started last night. Why am I nervous? Maybe excited would be a better word.

He looks like he doesn’t believe me. “At all?”

I turn in his arms, and his green eyes miss nothing. “Well, between my mom, grandma, and Rachael, I never needed to learn.”

“Soooo, takeout?”

I can’t hold back a giggle, which calms my raging hormones a bit. “I think I can manage something for dinner.”

His cheek touches mine as he whispers, “I know what I want for dinner.”

Said previous calmness is gone in a second. I wobble, and Elias steadies me with a hand to my back. I know what I hoped he meant by that. And from the wetness between my legs, I’m totally onboard.

He cups my face in his hands and feathers kisses over my lips. “Show me your bedroom, April.” His voice is deeply dominant.

I’m quickly losing brain activity from his teasing lips. “My…bedroom,” I stutter.

“Now, April,” he demands.

All I can do is point. My feet leave the ground as Elias carries me down the hallway. From the moment he enters my bedroom until we are both naked, skin to skin, and on the bed had to be a world record. I run my hands over his chest, exploring the warm, firm muscles. I wander lower, and Elias’s breathing quickens.

He hisses as my hands move lower. “I promised myself I was going to take this slow, but you’re making it very hard,” he admits.

I give him what I hope is a seductive look. “I certainly am.” My hand covers him and squeezes. My inhibitions have disappeared, replaced by a compelling need to have Elias inside my body. Taking me fast and hard.

“You are a little minx, aren’t you?” Elias says as I slowly work him with my hand. His breathing becomes labored and the sounds he’s making touch me deeply. “Okay, slow next time. Where’s the condoms?”

I point to the bedside table. Elias rolls over, grabs one, and tears the wrapper. I bite my lip, watching intently as he rolls the rubber sleeve down his beautiful cock. Which I make note to explore in detail later. My eyes close as he slides into me in one smooth thrust. The sensation explodes throughout my body. I moan, arching my body closer to his. He’s big in both length and girth. He stretches me as I’ve never felt before. There is no pain, but I feel every inch of his cock.

“You’re so tight.” He groans my name and begins to move. Slowly at first. Testing, learning, simply enjoying the coming together of our two bodies. He lifts my hips, adjusting until he finds the perfect angle to brush my clit with each slow, smooth stroke.

“Elias!” My voice sounds desperate, breathless. My fingers dig into the hard skin of his back as I try to calm the intense sensation beginning to shimmer deep in my core. Again, he thrusts into me, this time not as smooth, as if he’s waging a battle of his own. His breaths become erratic, his movements now wild and untamed, and I love it.

“Yes!” I scream. I can’t help it. I have no control over my mind, or my body. A tense, sparkly feeling begins to build. My climax is close. Glistening, just out of reach. “Elias!” I beg.

Closer. Deeper. Harder. He rears back on his knees and pulls my left leg up, stretching it up the length of his body. He thrusts again and buries himself even deeper than before. My orgasm slams into me and I come crying out his name. The shudders rise and fall with each wave that overtakes me. An intense pleasure spills through my body.

Elias thrusts hard again, and again, until with one final thrust he finds his own pleasure. My name leaves his lips as he collapses and rolls to the side, bringing me with him. I still feel the pulses of my orgasm as I press my cheek to his heaving chest. His arms wrap around me and for a time, we are both silent, complete. I’m not sure what would have happened next if my stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to rumble.

I giggle and roll onto my back. “Oh, gosh. Did you hear that?”

Elias chuckles. “It was kind of hard not to.”

I punch him in the arm. “C’mon. I make a decent omelet.” I pull on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, his eyes following me the entire time.