Chapter Fifteen
AS THEY NEARED the end of the path, he said, “Close your eyes, doll.”
“Hm. A long romantic walk, a mysterious request to close my eyes.” She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “You’ve got me wondering what’s up your sleeve. Not that I think you can fit much beyond those muscles of yours. But the rain boots have me curious. What exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Masters?”
She squeezed his arm. “You really think you can cover all the bases of how I deserve to be treated in three example outings? When I move into the Summer House on Wednesday, will I be well schooled in all things relationship related? That seems awfully fast.”
He bristled with the reminder that she hadn’t moved into his place for good. He hated the idea of her moving out, but with any luck, by the time tomorrow afternoon came, she wouldn’t want to go anywhere other than directly into his bed.
“I assure you, by the end of our third date—”
“Outing,” she corrected him with a teasing giggle.
“Right. By the end of tomorrow, I will have ruined you for any other man.”
When they reached the end of the path, the gardens Dean had planted over the spring, the area he’d cleared and prepared for the patio, and the view of the bay came into focus, along with pallets of flagstone, various tools, and other landscape paraphernalia. He’d left an unfinished border between the gardens and the area where the patio would be installed, to be filled in and planted afterward. In the center of what would become the patio stood a massive northern red oak, beneath which there was a table set for two. As if by magic, the solar lights in the tree sparked to life, twinkling above the table, where a chilled bottle of wine and dinner he’d picked up at Van Rensselaer’s, one of the best restaurants on the Cape, awaited. Their meal was hidden within fancy serving dishes he’d borrowed from his buddy who owned the restaurant.
“Okay, Em. Open your eyes.”
She gasped with awe as she took it all in. “Dean.”
Still holding on to his arm, she gazed up at the sparkling lights, at the pretty serving dishes on the table, and the view of the bay. “You did all of this for me?”
“Yes, but don’t get too excited yet, because look around us.”
She glanced around and her brows knitted, as if she’d only just noticed the pallets of flagstone and the accouterments needed for creating a patio. “Um…?”
“We’re going to lay the flagstone together.”
Her beautiful eyes widened. “This is where you’re making the patio? Really? I get to help?”
Her excitement made him laugh. “Yes. If you don’t mind.”
She threw her arms around his neck, sending him stumbling backward as he caught her around the waist.
“This is the best example outing ever!” she said with a mile-wide smile. She trapped her lower lip with her teeth, and her eyes darkened as she tightened her hold around his neck. “I have a confession to make.”
“Should I be worried?”
“When you said you were looking forward to getting dirty with me, my mind went elsewhere.”
“Don’t worry, doll. We are getting down and dirty tonight. Very dirty.”
She put her mouth beside his ear and whispered, “I’m not wearing any panties.”
His hand slid down her back, and just as his fingers grazed the curve at the base of her spine, she grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Uh, uh, uh, Mr. Masters. Unless you think it’s appropriate for a guy to grab my bare butt on the second date?” She wiggled out of his arms and made a show of smoothing her tiny skirt over her thighs.
“Obviously you think it’s okay, since you came on this date naked under that skirt.” He ground out a curse.
She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry?”
He tugged her against him again. “You are a little temptress.” He put his hand on her rear, leaving the skirt between them, and squeezed. “I ought to back you up against that tree and till your garden.” He had no idea how he’d get through another minute, much less the evening, with this new information taunting him.
She feigned a gasp. “Mr. Masters, that is totally inappropriate. I’m not that type of girl.”
“Just what type of girl are you?” It was a loaded question, one he knew the answer to. Emery was a street-savvy, smart, sexy woman who owned her sexuality, and he loved that about her.
She slithered out of his arms again and took his hand. “The kind that is going to enjoy being wined and dined by her man so she can fulfill all his fantasies after she puts these pretty new boots to use.”
OVER THE PAST few days, Dean had been more thoughtful and made Emery laugh more than any guy she’d ever gone out with. But tonight? This romantic dinner of shrimp cocktail, lobster cakes, and salad? These adorable boots and oh so very Dean socks? And most exciting, the thought that he wanted her to help him with the patio? The idea of creating something beautiful and lasting together was more than she could have hoped for. Even if they didn’t get dirty later, the night was already the best date she’d ever been on.
They laughed about using one plate, which they did, and fed each other like those sickeningly romantic couples she’d seen in movies. Only none of it felt sickening or over the top. They were falling into their relationship just as naturally as they’d fallen into their friendship.
After they finished eating, Dean leaned in, kissing her slowly and sensually. He put his hand on her thigh, inching it up to the edge of her skirt. He’d made advances throughout dinner, and Emery was having trouble remembering why she should fend them off. But for the first time in her life, she wanted more time with a man. She wanted all of tonight—the romantic dinner, working side by side, and much later, after they’d squeezed every bit they could out of the evening, she wanted the rest of him.
“I’m so glad you’re not hundreds of miles away anymore.”
“Me too. I still can’t believe we’re together.” She removed his hand from her leg and said with a prim and proper air she had no business conveying, “Mr. Masters, please keep your hands to yourself.” She wasn’t just denying him; she was denying herself the pleasures she knew he would bring. And she was surprised to find her arousal heightening with each refusal.
“My hands have a mind all their own, but I’ll try to distract them. How are you making out here without your family?” He lowered his mouth to her neck, placing several tender kisses along her shoulder.
She tried to concentrate on his question and not the heat rising between them. “I think we made out pretty well this morning. I’m not sure why you would want my family involved.”
He drew back and smirked. “You are one dirty-minded girl.”
“No, I’m your dirty-minded girl,” she said, feeling a little high from the wine—and from the sexy banter. “Words matter, Mr. Masters. When enjoying a romantic dinner, a girl likes to feel as though she’s the only woman on her man’s mind, not that she could be any female on the planet.”
“There’s no one else on the planet I’d rather be with than you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “Now, tell me, Emery. How are you holding up hundreds of miles away from your family?”
She was momentarily caught off guard by his question. With all the heat swirling around them, he was wondering if she was homesick? She wasn’t used to anyone other than her family caring enough about her to think about that type of thing. “I’m good. I haven’t had time to miss them yet.”
He studied her face for a minute, as if he were weighing her answer. “One of your concerns before moving here was missing your family. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”
He pushed to his feet and brought her up with him. “Are you ready to get down and dirty?” He waggled his brows.
“Okay, Casanova. Show me how to lay this flagstone.”
“I’ll show you how to lay something, but it’s not going to be flagstone.” He tugged her against him and kissed her deeply. Smiling against her lips, he said, “I told you we could be friends and more.”
“Let’s get this patio done so we can get to the more part.”
Chuckling, Dean stepped back and turned away to adjust himself. “I’m ready for the more part now.”
“No way. You promised I could help you with the patio, and I think my example outing should include a man who keeps his promises.” She came up behind him and hugged him, running her hands up his chest, then down his abs, and lower.
When he spun around, she dashed away. He caught her by the waist and she giggled and wiggled as he carried her to the garden. He turned her in his arms and took her in a deliciously hot kiss.
He clutched her bottom, and she inhaled a sharp breath.
“You’re a tease,” he said against her lips, with a smile that made her want to tease him even more.
“I’m your tease. Mind your words, Mr. Masters.” She didn’t know what had gotten into her, exclaiming so openly that she was his as she pressed herself against him, but she was going with it. For once, she felt like she could be her real, true self without holding back, and it felt amazing. “What’s wrong, big guy? Can’t handle the heat? Am I too much for you?”
“Never,” he said through gritted teeth.
She loved seeing him barely able to restrain himself. She wanted him so crazy with desire, by the time they went to his cottage he couldn’t control himself. The thought of experiencing all of the raw passion she saw simmering in his eyes, felt in his every touch, made every advance more difficult to deny than the last.
“Can’t keep your mind on the task before you? I think there’s a name for that. Chaos? Whirlwind?” she said playfully, as she sauntered toward the flagstone.
“Two can play at this game.” He reached behind his back and pulled his shirt over his head. “Come on, sweet thing. Let’s lay some flagstone.”
Emery could deal with a lot of things, but a shirtless Dean Masters lifting and carrying large pieces of flagstone and practically oozing pheromones was a force not to be ignored. He moved with fluid determination, hefting and maneuvering, their bodies brushing against each other as he showed her how to place the pretty slabs and choose the angles, explaining details she was sure held some importance, but processing Dean’s words while he flaunted his body was a futile effort.
He carried the larger pieces of flagstone, but Emery insisted on carrying the smaller pieces. They were both covered in a layer of dust and dirt. Her outfit was filthy, but she didn’t care. Working with Dean was exciting and inspiring. Not only was he extremely generous with his kisses and sexy touches, but he was a veritable Picasso of flagstone, taking her vision of a sunbeam and helping to create it within the confines of the patio. They chose their pieces carefully, picking longer, slimmer slabs for the rays and a bulky piece for the heart of the sun. Conversation was fun, steamy, and gloriously comfortable. Emery told him how excited she was at the prospect of working at the assisted living facility, and Dean asked her again about going to the benefit dinner. This time she gave him a firm acceptance. She wanted to be there for him. If she could only learn to keep her mouth shut, she might not be so nervous about meeting his father.
“Wait until my brothers catch wind of me going to a highfalutin benefit dinner. They won’t believe it.”
Dean looked up from where he was setting a piece of flagstone. Moonlight flickered in his eyes. His body glistened from his hard work, despite the cool breeze whisking over the dunes. She’d never seen anyone more rugged or masculine, but that wasn’t what had her stomach doing that flip-floppy thing again. It was the way he was looking at her, like she’d always been part of his life and always would be. If she removed the underlying heat and sensuality, the strength of their friendship remained.
“We’ll take a picture of us all dolled up and send it to them.”
“Us,” she mused. “You are a possessive man.”
“I never was until you, doll.” He finished setting the flagstone and pushed to his feet. “I think Ethan, Alec, and Austin should see who’s taking care of their baby sister.”
“Do you, now?” Normally, a comment like that would upset her. The thought of any man saying he was taking care of her was too similar to her brothers’ watchful eyes. But nothing about her relationship with Dean fit her norm, and she liked the way it sounded when he said it. She felt protected in a different way. A better way. Maybe the wine had gotten to her more than she thought.
Or maybe Dean was right and they were meant to be together.
“How fancy is this dinner?” she asked.
“It’s country-club fancy, but not little-black-dress-slit-up-to-there fancy. I don’t want to upset any of the wives because their husbands are ogling my girl all night.”
She bent to pick up the water bottle, and he whistled. “Baby, you bend over like that again, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
She liked the sound of that, dirt and all. Taking in the gorgeous mosaic of colorful stones they’d laid, she said, “This has been the best night of my life.”
“Mine too, doll,” he said thoughtfully. “But it’s only the beginning. We make a great team.”
“Yeah,” she said a little breathlessly. “How much are we doing tonight?”
His eyes swept over the ground, coming to rest on her boots, then crawled up her body, lingering around her thighs and sending her stomach into another wild flurry. He licked his lips, stepping closer, his gaze traveling up to her chest. She could do little more than watch him moving like a lion on the prowl, eyes narrow and solely focused on her as he took the water bottle from her hand and set it on the ground.
His gaze never left hers as his arms circled her waist and she melted against him.
“I think it’s time we focus on something else for a while. I think it’s time”—he kissed her shoulder—“that we focus on you.” He groped her bottom, firm and insistent. “And this pantiless perfection.”
His hand was rough and warm as he drew her body flush against his and took her in a deep kiss that tasted of wine and the unique manly essence of Dean. Rivers of desire slithered through her veins. When he tangled his other hand in her hair, angling her mouth in that possessive way she’d already come to expect, sparks zinged from her head to her toes, and something inside her snapped. Suddenly she couldn’t wait another second to have more of him, to be emotionally and physically closer. Using his shoulders for leverage, she went up on her toes, trying to climb him like the big, stable man he was. Her thigh moved up his, and she gave a little jump. He smiled against her lips, easily lifting her into his arms. She exhaled in relief as her legs wound around his waist.
Her hands roved over his warm flesh, over the hard ridges of his muscles and into his short hair. He was breathing as hard as she was. His strong touch brought another sense of relief, and she moaned into the kiss, rocking against his abs, needing so much more.
His fingers tightened, and he began walking—fast—toward the path.
“Where are we going?” she said between kisses. “No one can see us here!”
He kicked up his speed to a run. “I’m not making love to you in public—and I’m too dirty to touch you the way I want to.”
Oh, she loved the sound of that! “What about the dishes and the patio stuff?”
“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
He bolted toward his house, their teeth knocking as they kissed. Then they were in his yard, and he carried her into the outdoor shower.
“I need all of you,” he said as he turned on the shower and warm water rained down on them, fully dressed, devouring each other as they washed the dirt away.
He stripped off her shirt, kissing her all over. Sharp pleasure radiated through her.
She went up on her toes, and he tore his mouth away long enough to tug her skirt down over her boots. His mouth crashed against hers as she wrestled with the button on his shorts and made quick work of pushing them down. They got stuck on his boots, and he hopped and cursed as he tugged his boots and pants off. He tried to pull off her boots, but they were stuck, filled with water, and every tug brought more laughter. He finally gave up, standing naked before her. Adonis, personified. Only better, because he was hers. Her heart tumbled at the deeper emotions he’d unearthed. She felt out of breath and like she could breathe forever at the same time.
His gaze swept down her body as his arms circled her again. “Good heavens, Emery. You are perfect.”
She wound her arms around his neck and said, “We both know I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’m yours.” The words came so easily, so honestly, she had no doubts.
He stilled for only a few seconds before lifting her into his arms, but in that brief moment, she knew everything had changed.
“You are mine, and I am yours,” he said. “I haven’t even been intimate with a woman since I met you.”
Her heart took another unexpected hit, and the truth tumbled out. “I haven’t been with anyone either. Dean, I realized that I didn’t just want to stop dating friends. I stopped dating because I wanted to spend the evenings with you, even if long-distance.” She could practically see the gears in his mind churning, and she knew she’d thrown him for a loop with her confession.
“And your old boss? He wanted more than you could give?”
She nodded. “I guess I wasn’t ready to admit it, but I only wanted you.” As she lowered her mouth to his, she whispered, “Now make love to me like you mean it before I go out of my mind.”
“You,” he said sweetly, “are my perfect.”