Chapter Seven

Micki

Getting up for my run wasn’t difficult, considering I’d slept a grand total of four hours…and that was combined hours, not concurrent. A certain blue-eyed surfer-sailor-turned-marine-architect had permeated every part of my brain and body, and there was no corner I could retreat to that didn’t have his face, his body, or his mouth filling my thoughts. I ached with a need for more, and anticipation of spending time with him in the islands left me breathless and parts of me heated to painfully needy levels.

I wiped the steam from my bathroom mirror and peered through the streaks. I didn’t look different, but I sure as hell felt different. Like nothing was the same. My house was no longer just my house. It was where Devin would be at eight-thirty and then after he left, I’d remember nothing but his being here.

What had happened to the pragmatic queen of common sense?

She’s thrown it all to hell and said yes to something…something…

Crazy. It was insane to think I could seal all the emotional baggage I’d carried all these years for him away and never give them a second thought.

But, God, I wanted this chance. Wanted to spend time with him. Make love in the sun. Feel the wind caress our bodies. Find out if we truly were destined to be soul mates, like we’d thought we were so long ago.

The faster the thoughts of him came, his mouth, his body against mine, the needier my flesh became. My breathing grew shallow and I burned for his touch between my legs. Closing my eyes, I pressed my hips against the cool marble vanity to try and douse the fire that was burning in me. The contrast between cool, polished stone and my slick, overheated flesh was erotic on a level I’d never experienced. I let loose a cry, my body shaking, craving him. Panting, I slipped my fingers between my legs, gliding easily against the silky, wet folds. A low moan rose from my chest and I gave over to the need for release. So incredibly turned on, it took only a few short strokes before my orgasm shook me, leaving my knees weak and my heart thudding.

Sucking in ragged breaths, I sagged against the vanity before opening my eyes and focusing on the new reflection in the mirror. What I saw now was a woman with high color in her cheeks and eyes almost jet black with desire. A woman lost in passion.

“Oh, careful, Micki. Be very, very careful,” I whispered to the vaguely familiar image.

A short while later, showered and dressed, I was putting the last touches on my makeup when the doorbell rang. Glancing at the small antique clock on my vanity it confirmed what I’d thought. He was early.

Jamming the mascara wand back in its tube, I took one last look in the mirror before sprinting to the door.

“Good morning.” His eyes swept my entire length, ending with a big, wide, appreciative look. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

I dipped in a playful curtsey. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” There was nothing playful about the way my heart battered about in my chest seeing the glint in his eyes and the memory of his kisses when my eyes found his mouth.

The wind gusted and pushed against the door. Letting it swing open, I gestured him in. “Welcome to my renovation station.” He walked into the small entry and smiled, producing an enormous bouquet of mixed flowers from behind him.

“These aren’t nearly as beautiful as you, but the florist named Bud said this was something he thought you’d like. But, boy howdy, he was a grumpy old cuss.” He shrugged, with an innocent look. “I guess he didn’t plan on opening his shop so early, but hopefully the tip I gave him made his day a little brighter. And who the hell names their shop Bud’s Buds anyway?”

“Obviously, Bud did, but—wait. You bribed the man to open up early?”

“I wouldn’t call it a bribe exactly. I merely assured him this was very important and I certainly recognized the inconvenience it caused him and that his time was obviously valuable.” He lifted his hands, palms up, in an I have no idea look. “Ultimately, he seemed pleased with the sale.” He looked pointedly at the flowers in my hand. “I hope you like them.”

If he’d handed me a fistful of poison ivy, I’d have loved nothing better. I looked down at the massive riot of lilies, roses, sunflowers, peonies, and some other flowers I couldn’t identify. It was exactly the kind of arrangement I would’ve chosen for myself. Wild, rustic, and unstructured. “These are gorgeous, Devin.” I looked up, feeling the crush of first love all over again.

He looked relieved. “I’m glad, but I have to confess. I, uh…I deferred to Mr. Bud on the choice. I’m not a formal roses kind of guy, but he assured me he’d done flowers for you before and he remembered you liked things colorful and more natural looking.”

I was flabbergasted. “He remembered that? Gosh, he hasn’t done any flowers for me in a—” Since the last time I dated. “A long time,” I finished. Sensing his eyes on me, I looked up to find an odd expression on his face. Just as quickly as it had come, it vanished.

“So,” he dropped his hands on his hips and surveyed my living room. “So, this is the money pit?”

I stuck my nose deep in the flowers and inhaled. “Mm, so, so nice. Let me get these in water.” I’d taken one step and remembered why he was here. I turned, with a sweeping gesture. “Oh, and this is the house that’s the reason I’m not able to charter one of your yachts,” I teased. I looked around the perimeter with a smile. “This is what two years’ labor of love looks like. Not to mention bucketsful of money. Late nights. Pure sweat equity and a couple of moments of near mental breakdown.” I grinned like a monkey with a fresh banana. “Care for the nickel tour?”

“I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll show you some shots of the before a little later. There hasn’t been a corner that I haven’t touched in some way or fashion. But I like this room; this wasn’t a tough room. But please stop and adore the medallion on the ceiling. Give that sucker all the reverence you can because I spent three weeks working on that alone. It had cracked and broken, but I loved it so much, I damn near put myself in physical therapy from working above my head like that. So much of it had to be repaired, but I couldn’t be more pleased with the result.”

He looked up and admired the intricate plaster design. “You’re a determined, DIYer, that’s for sure. That’s some pretty painstaking—not to mention, backbreaking—kind of work. It’s beautiful and the detail is amazing.” He looked over with admiration plain on his face. “Damn nice job, Micki.”

I tried to subdue the rush of pleasure I found in his praise. “Thanks for noticing. I won’t lie. I was damn glad when that was over. After that, I decided to give my body a break so I spent next week or so on the ground, working these baseboards.” I indicated the rest of the living room. “It gave my poor back and neck a break. And…” I looked around the room, remembering my hard work, “all the floors in the house are new. At some point, previous owners plastered linoleum over the original hardwoods in the house and, oh my God, what a hellish job that was.” With a shake of my head, I let loose a sigh. “Worst part about it was the floors weren’t salvageable so all new went in throughout. Took a big hit to the budget on that one.”

Right then, a soft meow came from the opposite wall of the living room. There, floor to ceiling bookcases stood that I’d carefully staged with a mixture of books and small art objects I’d collected or created over the years. A window seat anchored the middle with a large flat-pane window that looked out toward my neighbor’s house and their carefully manicured yard. Cosmo, my faithful feline housemate, stretched from his nap with a giant yawn.

“Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “And that would be…?”

“Yes, yes. That would be Cosmo, who is—as you saw—immortalized on my desk.”

“And your pet sitter said yes?” he asked eagerly.

“I’m sure she will and, no, I haven’t contacted her yet because I have to work on my schedule first and there hasn’t been a whole lot of time since I left you last night.”

“I’ve already messaged Linc so he’s on standby. All he needs is the day.

A shockwave of excitement raced up my spine knowing this was really happening. That he was that eager to get me there made my heart skip a beat. “I’m planning on attacking my schedule first thing when I get in the studio this morning. But in the meantime, c’mon and I’ll put these flowers in water and show you the rest of the place. And oh,” I pointed to one of my favorite features in the living room. “Those arched glass doors to the top half of the built-ins are new. I had those made and couldn’t have been happier with the look. I didn’t do anything more to the fireplace but paint the brick, but I like the way it turned out. Pretty much the same thing here in the dining room,” I pointed out as we walked through it to get to the kitchen.

“It’s really nice, Micki. I’m impressed with the work you’ve done. It’s elegant in a quiet, non-ostentatious way, but comfortable at the same time. It’s got a nice, homey feel.”

“Thanks.” His praise pleased me more than I expected. “Now, here,” we walked into the kitchen. “This was the really money pit. Everything was gutted here. Down to the studs, including a full house re-pipe that I didn’t see coming. That was a pricey little find, let me tell you.”

The kitchen was my favorite room in the house. It made me smile. The white cabinets and beautifully veined marble were classic and timeless. Clean and inviting. “This kitchen was really small, but I was able to open it up to what used to be the utility room and that gave me enough room to add this banquette. I pushed the utility room into the garage, which isn’t as convenient, but I use the kitchen every day and the washer and dryer once a week, so it works out. I honestly never use the dining room unless I’m entertaining and most times, it’s just my casual friends so we’re in the kitchen the whole time anyway.”

He was nodding his head as he slowly turned and took in the whole room. I watched as his eyes settled over every detail, and I decided that, in a way, marine architecture wasn’t far from house architecture. “I can appreciate the use of space here. You’ve maximized everything about this room to its most efficient and streamlined use.” He turned with a look of frank approval and respect. “Did you design this whole place yourself?”

“Yep.” I nodded, looking around the room with pride. “I sure did.” Me, and a large bottle of Tylenol. And the odd glass of wine.

“Hey, if the photography thing doesn’t work out, I could probably hook you up with some folks that refurbish yachts. It would be financially worth your time and, based on what I’ve seen here with working with challenging specs, you’ve got an eye for it.”

I surveyed his expression for signs of polite empty platitudes. Either he was really good at bullshitting or he was being genuine.

“Pffttt,” I sputtered. “I just get lucky now and then.” Walking to the pantry, I grabbed a vase and filled it with water, fluffing out the flowers into a massive spray. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, though. I appreciate your thinking I could do a good job.”

He walked over to the counter and fingered the backsplash. Eyeing the stacked glass backsplash, he asked, “You do this, too?”

“Yes, and it’s not as hard as it looks. Now the bathroom? That was a different story. You’ll see in a minute, but I’m pretty proud of the way it turned out.”

He nodded. “You should be. I had no idea you were this talented, Micki. I’m impressed. Truly.”

“Thanks, again. You’ll see the bathroom and know what I mean. But in the meantime, here’s my guest room slash home office. It’s not a large room, as you can see, but I’m pretty pleased with all the functions it serves.” I let him go in ahead of me. “You can see my little sofa there, but the coolest part about that is it’s the base for the Murphy bed right behind it.” I pointed out the smooth latches used to pull down the bed from the wall. “See? It’s not only a queen bed, but you have this great couch as well. And here,” I turned, pointing to the coffee table on wheels. “This top also lifts up and inside.” I pulled the wooden panel up. “This has a built-in filing cabinet.” I turned to smile at him. “No more ugly metal storage. And even better,” I walked over to the small desk centered on the wall under a large window, “not only does this function as a great desk, but if you clear off the top, you lift the tabletop up and inside are three bins that I store all my craft stuff in. You know, paints, and stuff like that.” I didn’t take everything off the desktop, but cracked the lid a bit so he could see inside.

He straightened, dropping his hands to his hips as he turned to survey the entire room once again. “Micki, I gotta tell you. I’m blown away and I mean, totally fucking blown away. You’ve utilized every ounce of space in this room to its maximum potential and it’s still functional, comfortable, and inviting.” He turned to look at me, his expression filled with awe. “I’m so impressed,” he shared, genuine sincerity clear in every word.

“Thank you again.” I replied, unprepared for the satisfaction and pleasure that filled me with his words of praise.

With a backward glance into the room before we moved to the bathroom, he added, “I’m telling you, Micki. You should consider branching out.”

“I’m flattered you think so.” And I was, but I didn’t take him seriously.

How the man knew what I was thinking, I couldn’t know, but he seemed to be able to read my mind at times. “I’m not blowing sunshine here,” he said in all candor. “Think about it.”

One look at his face told me he meant it. “I will, and now let me show you the bathroom that gave me migraines.”

I stood behind him as he stepped into my nicely sized, for a small home, bathroom. Good thing, since it was the only one. “I’m seeing all the cuts and starts of tile, so I get it, but I have to admit that,” he pointed at my clawfoot tub that sat at the far end of the bathroom under a wide window overlooking the back yard, “now that sparks the imagination.”

With each nuanced comment, every flirtatious comment, my protective shell cracked a bit. “Oh, it does, does it?”

He moved to stand in front of me, inches away, but not touching me. He didn’t need to. I’d never been more aware of what intense male magnetism could do. My lips parted to ease my quickening breath.

“Mm hmm,” he murmured, his deep voice a smooth purr. “It conjures up all kinds of images of you in it.” One corner of his mouth curled into a wicked, sensual smile. “Maybe I should think about installing a clawfoot tub in my house before you get there.”

I swallowed hard. “One room left on the tour,” I pointed out in an oddly tight voice. With effort, I yanked my eyes from him and turned to walk down the hall. “Everyone stay together,” I called over my shoulder in my best tour guide manner. “It gets tricky here and I don’t want to lose anyone along the way.”

He followed me the six steps it took to get to my bedroom without another word. My heart thumped an extra beat as I stood to the side to let him step into the room. Muted grey walls with crisp white trim, it was a bedroom of serene retreat. Plush bedding and just feminine enough to know a woman lived there. One large peaceful painting hung over my bed, and I’d sprinkled smaller, similarly themed landscapes around the room. Three paned windows, carefully and painfully costly to restore, allowed natural light in to bathe the entire room. I’d kept the entire color palette quiet and understated. Sea glass colors sprinkled around in just the right amounts.

I watched as he took in the entire room before fixing his attention on the bed. The room couldn’t accommodate a king-size bed and still have room for the chaise I had to have, so I’d opted for a queen. He continued to stare until I wondered if he’d found a bug.

“It’s not the largest master bedroom, so that’s why—”

“It looks like you.” The hoarse note in his voice caught me off guard. He turned to face me and something akin to pure, unadulterated lust raced through my veins. “And this is where we should go back to the kitchen because this room gives me way too many ideas that we don’t have the time to explore.” Pinning me with one long look of dark promise, he raked a hand forcefully through his hair. “And when that time comes, I want the whole fucking day, not just an hour before you have to go to work.”

I stood rooted to the spot as he strode down the hall and disappeared around the corner. Pressing one hand hard against my stomach, I tried to subdue the explosion of butterflies that took my breath away. He’d been just the right side of aggressive and it turned me on in ways I never expected. Had never felt before.

A jolt of pure feminine thrill raced up my spine and, despite my inner fears, my body was on an out-of-control train headed for only one destination.

I padded back into the kitchen to find him braced against my sink, looking into my backyard. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

Exactly like we had at the studio, I pulled the basket of single-serve coffee cups out of the upper cabinet and placed it on the counter next to the machine. “I operate on the same help yourself model as we do at the office. Pick whatever you like.”

“I did,” he replied.

I could tell that his gaze was on me because the skin on the back of my neck goose bumped. I hesitated to turn around, afraid that if I saw in his eyes what I heard in his voice a few minutes ago, we’d end up making love right there in middle of the kitchen. Or on the table. Or the counter.

“Tell me something, Micki.”

I heard him move away from the counter to come and stand behind me, the warmth of his body seeping into my back. I couldn’t look. Didn’t dare turn around.

“What’s that?”

He didn’t answer right away so I felt compelled to turn slightly to see him out of the corner of my eye. His face was inches from mine. My knees threatened to buckle.

“What happens after we make love the first time? Will you let me make love to you again?” he asked in a deep voice that held a note of uncertainty.

It hurt to breathe. I was afraid if I turned all the way around, I’d be answering his question in a very physical way. A kernel of trepidation found its way into my heart and I defaulted to my usual approach when faced with emotions too strong, too powerful to process. That would be joking with an extra dollop of deflection. “The odds may be in your favor, Mr. Stockton.”

Stray hairs tickled my cheek as Devin stood motionless behind me, his breath warm as it caressed my face. I jumped when his fingers touched my hand and slowly, with a feather stroke, traveled up my arm, over my shoulder and brushed back the errant strands. An innocent gesture turned purely erotic.

“I will do everything in my power to convince you to give me a second chance.” Our gazes held for a moment before a pained expression came over him. He looked at his watch, then back at me. “I’m going to leave now so you can get to work. Thank you for the coffee.” In a low, husky voice, added. “And for letting me into your home.”

An hour ago, I’d just been nervous about having him here, in the intimacy of my house and now, I faced the realization how much I loved seeing him here. Like he was meant to be here. “Wait…will you let me know what your schedule’s going to be?”

“You’ll be the first to know. I promise.” He took three steps away from me and stopped. He turned and slowly, purposefully, walked back to me.

He stopped and peered into my eyes. “Stop?”

Confused, I shook my head. “Huh-what?” My brain had shut down in favor of letting the wildfires that burned low in my belly consume me.

“Do you want me to?”

Still dazed and unable to think clearly, I blurt out the first thing that came to mind. “I’ve lost my entire train of thought.” Not what a sophisticated, worldly woman would say, but it was honest.

He took the last step that had him standing so close our clothes touched. Framing my face in his hands, he tilted my head up.

“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.

“Starting you up a new train.” He sealed his mouth over mine and kissed me, his tongue teasing—lightly, at first. Then he deepened the kiss, pulling a moan from deep in the back of my throat. His body tensed, his arms going tighter around me. The kiss spiraled into a hot, intense connection that made me want to climb up him and let him know I was his to do with as he pleased. My head began to spin and I slid my hands over his shoulders, digging in the carved muscles until a ragged, masculine groan vibrated in his chest. The thrill of his response reverberated through me, making me wet with desire and hungry for more. With a rhythm as old as time, I rocked against his hips, aware of every hard inch of him. I wanted him to know I knew what he wanted, that I wanted it, too.

He pulled back, swearing viciously. “Micki,” he rasped. “Jesus Christ, give a guy a break. Go. Go! Go to work and get yourself ready to come to me.”

My mind could only process one overwhelming siege at a time. Forget thinking ahead. I stared at him as he raked his hands through his hair, but looked so in control. “How the hell can you look so…so—”

“Five seconds from losing my mind? I have no fucking idea!” he growled, hauling me back against him for a hard, swift kiss. “Start packing,” he ordered, and turned to leave. Just before he walked through the doorway, he looked over his shoulder with a wicked smile and said, “Or come without any clothes. That works for me, too.”

I couldn’t get to work fast enough.