Chapter Three
Mia played with a bottle of bubbles in the backyard while Kat hung the laundry on the line. The breeze was laced with the sharp scent of fresh cut grass, tinged with the slight hint of gasoline from the lawnmowers running. A steady hum filled the air as neighbors took advantage of the good weather to work in their yards. Mia’s voice carried over the buzzing.
As she shook out the damp bed linens and clipped them to the line, she caught sight of Tyson in his backyard. The sun warmed Kat’s clothing and hair as she stared. Jade was right. The view was fine.
Tyson’s muscles tighten and bunch under the exposed skin of his back as he used a shovel to dig a hole. Sweat coating his shoulders and sides glistened in the sun.
An ache formed low in her belly. What would his skin smell like? Her palms itched as she rolled a clothespin in her fingers. Would his skin be smooth or rough like his hands? She recalled when he had introduced himself, how firm and strong his touch had been.
Her eyes slowly shut as she pulled in a deep breath. Despite his irritating arrogance, she wanted to breathe him in, get close enough that the tang of his heated skin flooded her lungs.
She shifted her shoulder, her bra suddenly irritating her flesh. He pierced the shovel into the ground and reached down to retrieve a bottle of water. She concentrated on his forearm as he rested it on the handle of the shovel and guzzled down several gulps before recapping the bottle and returning it to its place on the ground.
She wasn’t sure if it was his size or the way that he carried himself that had her so mesmerized. Every move he made seemed confident and sure. She craved the sort of resoluteness he displayed, but it went against her indecisive nature. Maybe such confidence came with age.
She gasped as he unknotted his bandanna, revealing a beautifully smooth, bald head. It was the first time she’d seen his head uncovered. Her pulse thrummed. His lack of hair only made him more appealing. She didn’t know how much more she could take. He unfolded the yellow fabric and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Oh, yes…
Tyson laughed as he fitted a fence post into the ground, his neighbor, Kat, unsubtly spying on him. She was a peculiar thing, high strung, but in a charming sort of way—cute, but plain with a natural beauty.
She didn’t have the best social skills. She was a skittish little thing, yet assertive with her daughter. He suspected she was in her early twenties, but the fact that she had a three-year-old made him unsure. No matter, he was most likely ten plus years her senior and that meant he had to keep his thoughts in the PG zone. A task that became more difficult each time he saw her.
However, he couldn’t deny that he liked catching her spying on him. He’d been watching her as well, found her most intriguing when she didn’t know she had an audience. When it was just Kat and her daughter, she became animated and lost in her own world, chasing bubbles and twirling with little Mia. The kid was adorable—all wild strawberry blond curls and pink, pudgy cheeks.
Her friend Jade had said Kat was single. He wondered what kind of man let a sweet woman like Kat walk out of his life.
She was small, but had curves in all the right places, no matter how she tried to hide them. Today she looked more casual than the way he usually saw her during the workweek.
There was something shy about her; something uptight and guarded that disappeared when she didn’t realize others were watching. Maybe he made her uneasy. No unwritten rule said she had to like him. Or maybe her uneasiness had to do with her baby’s daddy? Maybe Mia’s father had been the kind of guy that made women uncomfortable around men.
She turned away and hung another white sheet on the line. Tyson admired the way her loose fitting linen skirt whispered over the backs of her knees and swelled over her plump bottom. If there was one thing he admired in a woman it was a nice ass. Kat’s looked soft and round, plenty to hold onto.
Her hair was down, the brown waves delicately curling at her shoulders. When she’d been in his yard the other day he found the way the sunlight played over her hair incredibly distracting.
She bent over—nice—picking another item from her basket. As she turned he admired the way her white t-shirt molded to her chest. She appeared happy and he thought he caught echoes of her humming as she hung the laundry across the line.
The vision she made in front of the white sheets blowing with the bubbles in the breeze could have sold as an Americana watercolor postcard. All that was missing was a homemade apple pie resting on the sill of her window and the Norman Rockwell moment would be complete.
As the fresh laundered sheets worked their way across the line, he got a whiff of fabric softener. Would her clothes carry the same sweet freshness? His body stiffened at the thought of pressing his face into the curve of her neck and breathing in the mixed scent of her clothes, skin, and hair. He bet her skin would be as soft and as warm as the sun- kissed cotton fluffing in the breeze.
Back to work. She’s too young for you.
He thrust the shovel into the ground in an attempt to dispel his arousal. It had been too long since he’d last had a woman. After digging a few more patches out of the earth, he stopped to get a sip of water. It was damn hot for early spring.
Using his bandana to wipe his brow, he pulled the damp cloth away and turned to see if she was still there. She squeaked and jumped behind the veil of the sheets as his gaze collided with hers. She had been staring at him again. A rush of satisfaction punched through his veins. So much for losing his hard on. Did she like what she saw?
Dainty feet in plain flip-flops showed under the sheet. Little did she know that the angle of the sun left her silhouette in full view. The side of his mouth kicked up as the shadow of her curvy body anxiously fidgeted and her feet shifted.
Were her toes ticklish?
She was definitely skittish. She couldn’t even look him in the eye when he talked to her. He didn’t think she was like that with everyone, but he hated to think that he, specifically, made her uncomfortable.
Kat had a lot going for her. She took care of her daughter, had a job, a home and she was beautiful. These were all qualities a person could be proud of—not that she wasn’t—but she sometimes seemed unsure of herself.
He had the suspicion she didn’t get complimented as much as she probably should and that was a damn shame. He’d compliment her all day long if she could bring herself to talk to him.
He waited for her to peek around the sheet and wave, but as her slow moving shadow worked closer to the edge, again and again, she chickened out every time. He had to laugh. She certainly was skittish as a kitten.
He’d caught her watching him!
Taking a few minutes to find her composure, Kat took a few slow breaths. Peeking back around the sheet, she exhaled, tension leaving her shoulders. He’d retied his bandana around his head and was shoveling again.
Kat stayed behind the sheet—tilting only her head past the protective barricade—when Tyson looked in her direction again. He grinned and shook his head, as if laughing to himself, and continued on with his work.
Frowning, she wondered if he was laughing at her. She ducked behind the sheet and chewed on her nail, debating if she should go inside. She liked watching him, but she hated when he saw her.
Suddenly the phone rang. Kat picked up her basket, called Mia to follow inside, as she turned toward the house. Dropping the basket in the hall, she ran to the kitchen to pick up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Katherine, what were you doing? You sound out of breath.”
“Hi, Mom. I was out back with Mia.”
“Oh. How’s my granddaughter?” Her tone always reeked of skepticism whenever she asked about Mia’s wellbeing, as if Kat’s parenting skills would forever be in question.
She should talk.
The automatic expectation that she would somehow fail never seemed to fade. It amazed her that Vivian could be so critical of her parenting, when Kat was a more active and nurturing parent than her mother ever was.
“She’s fine. How’s Dad?”
“He’s well. That’s actually why I’m calling. You’re father has a colleague he’d like you to meet.”
She cringed. Her parents’ taste in men were nothing like her own and while the entire world was hoping she’d meet a man and marry, she had no desire to do so. The mere thought of dating—the effort of physically and mentally preparing for such fabricated social meetings—exhausted her.
“He’s in his late twenties and works on the township’s board of trustees. He’s never been married and is quite handsome from what I understand.”
“Mom, I’d really rather not be one of your charity cases.”
“Don’t be foolish, Katherine. You’re my daughter. You’re a lovely young woman and some men might be kind enough to overlook your past.”
This was her mother’s idea of support. She’d compliment her then execute a passive dig.
“I’m really not in the market to date right now. I tell you this all the time. My life’s as full as I want it. Mia doesn’t need to suffer through the complications of me dating.”
“Mia needs a father,” her mother said as Kat considered how much better her self-esteem would’ve been if her father were absent from her life. “She’d benefit from having a strong male figure in her life. You know your father can only compensate so much for your shortcomings. And you’d benefit from having a husband, someone to take care of you. Then you could quit that job and stay home with Mia instead of shipping her out to your neighbors.”
“Mia likes going to Mrs. Bradshaw’s and I like my job.” God forbid Vivian D’Angelo acted as a babysitter. No, that would be too much.
“That’s not the point. The point is that your father sees this man as a suitable match for you. It would please him if you at least—once—did the dutiful thing and followed his request without our coercion.
“Now, he’s asked Dawson to attend Easter dinner with us next Sunday. I’ll expect you to wear something appropriate and Mia will need a new dress. I’m taking her shopping tomorrow on our outing and I’d like you to join us.”
Son of a bitch! The only thing worse than talking to her mother, was shopping with her. “I have clothes, Mom.”
“You’re clothes are old and Dawson’s a successful young man. He’s used to moving in high-class circles with sophisticated young ladies. You’ll need something classy that hides your curves. How are you doing with your weight, anyway?”
Kat dropped her head into her palm. No one needed to tell her she wasn’t perfect. She was quite aware. She didn’t have Jade’s perky boobs, her mom’s trim waistline, or Mia’s vibrant hair, and no amount of envy would change that. What she did have was an unremarkable chest, love handles, and hair that resembled Buckwheat without the help of a flat iron and a good amount of conditioner.
It took years to convince herself that stretch marks were a mother’s badge of honor and her freckles built character, but her mom could still cut to her core with one quick question. Vivian assumed it was Kat’s life’s ambition to be a size two, which she’d never been. Even at her best she was a size twelve. And since Mia, she’d maintained a comfortable size fourteen-sixteen.
Regardless, she made a point to hide how much her mother’s words still hurt. “Um, I look the same as I did last week, Mom.”
“Well, if you eat extra healthy this week and drink plenty of water, you could lose a couple pounds by next Sunday.”
Kat said nothing as she picked at a hangnail. Ignore her. She’s superficial. There are more important things than a person’s weight. Vivian always seemed to attack her pride as an attempt to make her more agreeable, weaker, something Kat had spent years trying to build a tolerance against.
“I’ll be picking up Mia tomorrow morning at nine. Be ready. We’ll start at Nordstrom’s and take it from there.”
“Fine, but Mom, I do have things to do tomorrow. I won’t be able to shop all day. Why don’t we meet you at Nordstrom’s and when we’re finished, you and Mia can go about the rest of your day and I can do my running around?”
Vivian was quiet for a minute and Kat, knowing her mother, interpreted her silence as irritation “I don’t understand why you can’t do your running around on another day. Is it so much to ask that you spend a day with your mother?”
And here comes the guilt.
“I rarely see you and only get to see Mia on Sundays.”
Kat gaped. “That’s completely your choice, Mom. You’re welcome to visit whenever you want. We’re home every night and I’m sure Mia would love to have you over more.”
“You know your house is too small for company.”
“My house is fine. It may be too small for a dinner party, but it’s certainly large enough to have you and Daddy over once in a while.”
“That’s my point, dear. You’re getting older and eventually will want to entertain in your own home. If you married a successful man, you could afford a bigger house and do these things. Anyway, I have to run. I was simply calling to make arrangements for tomorrow. I’ll meet you at Nordstrom’s at nine, if that’s the most you can offer. Give Mia my love.”
As Kat hung up the phone she rubbed her temples in an attempt to prevent the oncoming headache that always followed a conversation with her mother. “Why couldn’t I have normal parents?”
Kat was cleaning up after dinner when she hit the switch for her garbage disposal and it made a god-awful noise. Sharp metal scraped and suddenly silenced.
Bracing her palms on the lip of the sink, she stared into the dark hole. “Shit.”
“Momma, that’s a bad word. You gotta give me a quarter,” Mia reprimanded.
“Sorry, baby. I’ll get you one as soon as I fix this.”
She turned on the spray faucet attachment to dislodge whatever was jamming the disposal and hit the switch, but nothing happened. Reaching under the sink, she pressed the reset button, but that didn’t work either. “Mia, can you get me the flashlight out of the hall closet?”
“Okay.”
Mia left her coloring to rush off to her aid. She was always such a good little helper. A broken garbage disposal wasn’t the end of the world, but it also wasn’t something she could afford to replace at the moment. Hopefully it was a simple fix.
Mia returned with the flashlight and Kat shined it down the drain. Something dark was lodged in the grinder.
“What’s wrong, Momma?”
“Something’s stuck in the drain.”
Reaching into the drain as far as her fingers fit, she ignored the slimy potato peels clinging to her wrist and grazed the object, but couldn’t grasp it. An aggravated breath huffed past her lips as she removed her arm and flicked off the slimy bits of food.
Retrieving her toolbox from the closet, she searched for pliers or something that could grip the object, but there was nothing. Letting out a frustrated groan, she bit at her thumbnail. “Tongs!” Jumping off the floor, she slid the toolbox back on the shelf.
Mia stood in the kitchen as Kat sifted through the utensil drawers. When she found them she fed them down the drain, but they still didn’t reach the obstruction. She tried rotating her hands, but the handles simply wouldn’t fit. “Damn it!”
When Mia didn’t correct her language, something she always did when Kat let a curse word slip, she looked at her daughter. She stood, head bent, gaze on the floor, as she wrung her hands in unnatural silence.
“Mia, do you know what’s wrong with the sink?”
She rubbed her toe on the floor, still not looking at her.
“Mia, did you put something in the sink that shouldn’t have been in there?”
She nodded.
“Can you tell Mommy what it was?”
She mumbled something that sounded like, “My wiswa tree”.
“What?”
Lifting her teary gaze, she took a deep breath. “My wizard was dirty, so I tried to wash him. But he fell in the hole.”
Kat sighed. “Mia, you know you’re not allowed to play at the kitchen sink.”
“I’m sorry I broke your sink, Momma.” A tear rolled down her cheek and the sincere sadness in her voice nearly shattered Kat’s heart.
“It’s okay, but don’t do it again. This sink is very dangerous. I need to figure out how to fix it so Dr. Stevens doesn’t have to call a plumber. We need to think of something long enough to grab the wizard. I need a tool that pinches.”
“I know! You can borrow one from Tyson. He has lots of tools. He’ll give you some.”
“Good idea.” He would definitely have a tool she could use. “Okay, why don’t you go watch cartoons? I’m going to run over to see if Tyson’s still working. You stay here and don’t get off the couch.”
“Okay, Momma.” Mia dashed into the living room and flicked on the television.
Relieved the Adams Construction truck was still parked in the driveway, she quickly walked down the sidewalk. Does this guy ever go home?
No music played and the yard was empty. “Tyson?” No one answered so she knocked on the door. Nothing. She knocked again, anxiously glancing back at the house.
Did she shut off the stove? Shut the broom closet? Visions of Mia waiting on the couch mixed with fears of her climbing up the shelves of the closet filled her with anxiety. She didn’t like leaving Mia alone for more than two minutes. Her hand rose to knock one last time when the door suddenly opened.
“Kat?”
Words. She needed words.
Tyson stood—shirtless—in the doorway wearing only jeans. Her gaze fixated on his bare feet. Breathing in his clean scent, she noted traces of soap, the green, expensive kind. Her mouth went dry as she looked up and found herself eyelevel with his dark nipples.
“Is everything okay?”
He was standing so close her mouth opened, but nothing came out. “Uh…” She shook her head. Pull it together, Kat! “Yeah, I wanted to see if you had a long pair of pliers I could borrow.”
“Sure, they’re in my truck, let me throw on shoes and get them for you.”
He disappeared for two seconds and reappeared wearing a pair of slip-on canvas boat shoes. Was he staying there while renovating? Did the owner know?
He stepped close and she froze. What was he doing?
He softly chuckled, his large hands pressing into her shoulders. “Pardon. I need to get by.” Her eyes widened as he briefly squeezed her shoulders before letting go.
She took a jolting step back as the smooth flesh of his abdomen brushed her arm. The light scent of beer was faint on his warm breath.
God, what is wrong with me?
At the truck he sifted through a canvas lined bucket. Kat waited on the lawn, careful not to get too close. He probably thought she was such an idiot.
“Here ya go.” He handed her the pliers.
“Thanks, I gotta run. Mia’s in the house by herself. I’ll bring these back soon as I’m finished.”
“Take your time.”
She jogged back to the house. Mia was still sitting on the couch. “You okay, kiddo?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good. Why don’t you pick out a movie so Mommy can fix the sink? We’ll have to take a tubby in the morning.”
“Cinderella?”
“Sure.”
She changed Mia into her pajamas, situated her on the couch with her blanket, and started Cinderella. Kat tried the pliers, but couldn’t un-jam the wizard. She was sitting on the floor, her head stuck under the sink with a flashlight, tools scattered around her, when there was a knock at the door. Twisting, she whacked her head on the disposal bin.
“Mother Fudrucker!” She rubbed her head and crawled out from under the sink.
Mia’s footsteps pattered to the window and she shouted, “Tyson!”
Kat froze. She quickly smoothed her hair back and brushed her fingers over her face. Very aware he was in her territory, she took her time standing and getting to the door, fussing with her shirt, and frowning at the smudge of something on her shoulder.
Taking a steadying breath, she unlatched the deadbolt and gently nudged Mia away from the door.
“Hi, Tyson!” Mia greeted from beside her hip.
“Hi, Mia.”
He raised a brow and held out a leather belt full of tools. “I figured you might need some help.”
“Oh. Uh…”
Did she really want to impose on the new neighbor’s construction guy? Would he expect to be paid for his time? Should she even involve him in their personal affairs?
Oh for Christ’s sake, get a grip, Kat! It’s a garbage disposal for crying out loud, not a therapy session.
“Thank you. Please come in.”
He apprehensively stepped over the threshold. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I was weighing my options, thinking if I could fix it. I mean, you work in construction, so I’m sure you’ve installed, like, a thousand of them, but I’m so worried that the wizard broke the damn thing. I tried my hands, tongs, pliers, but I can’t get the wizard out of the hole and—”
“Whoa, whoa, you lost me at wizard. Why don’t you tell me what the problem is?”
“I dropped my wizard down the hole,” Mia said.
“The garbage disposal,” Kat amended. “Mia dropped a plastic, toy wizard down the drain and I can’t get it out. The mechanism froze up and I hit the reset button, but it’s jammed.”
“I see.”
He walked to the sink and the air seemed to siphon out of her small cottage. Tyson was too big for her home. She’d never had a man there before aside from Dr. Stevens or her father. His presence totally threw her off kilter.
“Well that should be easy enough to fix, but first things first. You never reach into a jammed garbage disposal.”
“I made sure it was off—”
“Never.” He tilted his head attempting to look stern, but his dimple gave him away. “Who’s to say the piece won’t spin after you un-jam it? You could lose a finger that way.”
Kat raised a brow at the dramatic reprimand and Mia gasped at the mention of losing fingers. Keeping her tone level for her daughter’s sake, she agreed. “You’re right. I won’t do it again. That’s exactly why little girls aren’t supposed to play at the sink.”
“Good. Now, let’s see this wizard.”
“Mia, take your milk and go sit down and finish your movie before bed.”
Mia headed into the living room and Kat cleared away her tools to show Tyson the issue. “It’s on this side,” she said, leaning over the right basin of the sink.
She shined the flashlight over the hole as Tyson looked in the drain. With their heads so close together she scented his deliciously exotic cologne. Slowly, she turned. His shaved head was completely smooth, not even a shadow of stubble. She took an uneven step back and cleared her throat.
“Well, your hands are definitely smaller than mine. So if you couldn’t maneuver the tools through the hole, then I definitely won’t be able to. Looks like the base is going to have to come off.”
“Is that difficult?” The idea of him going through so much trouble didn’t sit well with her or her wallet. Maybe she should just tell Dr. Stevens in the morning.
“No, I’ll have it working again in no time.”
He dropped to his knees and dug through his tool belt. Ripples of muscle formed under his t-shirt as he pulled out various tools, not an ounce of fat on him. Every nook and cranny was so defined even his clothing couldn’t camouflage how fit he was.
Her shoulders subtly rotated as if that could relieve some of the tension low in her belly or soften the tightening skin beneath her bra. Maybe she should get a job in construction. Then her mom wouldn’t think she was such a fat cow.
He pulled out his own flashlight and paused before ducking under the sink. Those dark almond shaped eyes stared up at her and all breathing stopped. “You don’t have to sit here. Go spend time with Mia. I’ll get you when I’m finished.”
He probably realized she was gawking at him again. Good God, she was turning into a deviant. “Um, okay.” She awkwardly hitched her thumb toward the next room. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”
“Sounds good.” He ducked under the sink and gave her a phenomenal view of his ass. Holy mother of sweetness!
About a half hour later, Kat sat watching Cinderella with Mia on her lap when Tyson stepped into the living room
“I have good news and bad news.”
Kat put her finger to her lips and motioned toward Mia’s sleeping face. She gently slid her daughter onto the couch and motioned him back toward the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she leaned her hip against the counter, and braced for the worst. Hopefully, it would only be a minor setback. Her financial situation did not allow for overly expensive emergencies.
“What do you want first, the good or the bad?” he asked.
Kat rubbed her forehead. “The good, I guess.”
“The garbage disposal is fixed.”
She exhaled in relief.
“The bad news is I don’t think Merlin will be doing spells again anytime soon.” He held up a mutilated piece of plastic and she laughed, causing his smirk to turn to a full smile—dimple and all.
“Well, I can deal with that. Here, let me throw that away.” She took the toy from him and dropped it in the trashcan.
“This is a nice place you have here. You’re a little bit of a control freak, aren’t you?”
She faltered as her neck stiffened in offense. Slowly turning, he looked around her kitchen as he stretched, gripping his hands behind his head. His shirt slightly rose at his midriff, exposing his trim waist. He seemed utterly unfazed that he’d just insulted her.
“What did you say?”
“I, uh, noticed you have little labels under the sink for where things belong, sponges, dish soap, disinfectant.” Likely noticing that he offended her, he held up his palms. “Hey, I’m not judging. Really. It’s cute.”
“Cute?” Since when was compulsiveness cute?
“Yeah, cute. Really, Kat, I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Her face heated. “I’m a little weird. Jade calls me OCD, so I’m a little sensitive about it. It really is a disorder I have. I mean, it’s not like a doctor’s diagnosed me or anything like that. I just figure, having Mia and all, it’s easier to keep things controlled and organized.”
“That makes sense.”
She nibbled her lip and looked down. Should she pay him? Offer him something to drink? Her toes twitched as an awkward silence fell between them. She sensed him watching her.
“And Mia’s father…”
Her gaze jerked to his. That was the last thing she expected him to mention.
He shook his head. “Never mind, that really isn’t any of my—”
“Mia’s father is out of our lives. She’s never met him and he only saw her when she was two days old. Last I heard he was in Japan.”
“Japan?”
“Yeah. He’s in the military.”
“So you’re okay with him not taking responsibility for his actions?”
She shifted. “Mia was the result of both our actions, but she’s my child. She doesn’t need a father for me to be a good mother.”
“Very true.” He studied her and she fought the urge to fidget. “How old were you when you had Mia?”
“Eighteen.” Her gaze turned challenging as she braced for his reaction.
His dark brows arched. “That’s pretty amazing.” Nodding, he crossed his arms over his chest, appearing open and at ease.
Unused to flattery, his praise made her self-conscious. Falling back on old defense mechanisms, she brushed off his compliment by minimizing herself. “Hardly, I do what hundreds of moms do every day. I don’t have the luxury or patience to wait for some rich man to sweep me off my feet and make everything easy. Although, that’s what my mother’s hoping for,” she joked.
“Do your parents help you out?”
“Uh, no. Not exactly. Other than taking Mia on Sundays, they aren’t really involved in my life. They never really got over the disgrace of me getting pregnant in high school.”
His expression changed to shocked disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yup. Pretty shitty.”
“And you still talk to them?”
“I tolerate them for Mia’s sake. They take Mia every Sunday, like I said. I don’t usually tag along. I think they have a better relationship when I’m not involved.”
“That’s pretty tolerant of you.”
Her feigned casualness faltered as her stomach flipped and heated at his words. It wasn’t safe to let him affect her so much. Back to indifference. “No, I’m just a kid trying to make it as an adult. I can use all the help I can get.”
“You’re pretty accountable. That’s more than most adults can claim.”
Mia was her responsibility and feeling sorry for herself or complaining through difficult times only made things worse. “Well, it’s easy to make sacrifices for someone you love more than yourself.”
“See? You sum up your hardships with some optimistically, poetic line. That’s amazing.”
She didn’t know when it happened, but somehow the conversation turned to squarely focus on her. The urge to flee hit hard. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. She’d gotten pregnant when she was seventeen. Amazing women didn’t do stuff like that.
“It’s a compliment, Kat, take it.”
Lips trembling into a smile, she looked at the floor. She never found time to pat herself on the back. Back pats didn’t pay the bills, so why bother? But still, to have someone other than Jade recognize her accomplishments was really nice.
Nervously blinking, she slowly lifted her gaze. Confidence was hard when you didn’t always have faith in yourself. “Thank you.”
She didn’t know how to get past the awkward emotional exchange. It was good to actually talk like this with another adult, but it was also unfamiliar and painfully personal. She couldn’t share anymore, especially when she didn’t really know the person she was sharing with.
Clearing her throat, she turned the tables on him. “Okay, your turn. Does your boss know you’re staying at his house?”
“I told you, I’m the boss.”
“Yes, but you work for someone. In this case, the owner of the house.”
“Kat, I bought the house. It’s mine. I own it. I’m fixing it up to live there.”
Her smile faltered. “What? But you said…” she trailed off. He’d said the owner of the house was an independent, single, businessman with no children. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We all hide our cards until we’re comfortable with our hand, Kat. Sometimes we even lie.”
“Did you lie to me?”
“No, but you lied to me when you felt threatened. You told me you had an alarm system, in case I was planning on robbing you or something. But I don’t see one installed anywhere.”
Unease washed through her—cold and unsettling. He was grinning, but there was no dimple and his eyes seemed flat and untouched. If she’d known he was their actual neighbor, she might have acted differently.
“I didn’t say it because I thought you were going to rob—”
“Sure you did. You saw a large, unfamiliar, black man hanging around your house and you lied to protect your cub.”
She gasped. “It wasn’t because you’re black.”
“Maybe not. I’m sure there were a lot of reasons. I’m a man. I’m bigger than you by a long shot, and you didn’t know me from Adam. But I’m also not blind. I’m probably the only black resident within a ten mile radius.”
As she tried to pinpoint her motive she couldn’t see past her shame. Deep down, she might not have lied if he was white. Tyson had an intimidating presence, but maybe his race subconsciously made her a little more suspicious of him. “I’m sorry I lied. You seem like a nice man.”
He nodded, as if accepting her apology. “You seem like a nice woman.”
It would only take a small movement of her fingers to touch his hand resting on her counter. He was beautiful, and if she was being honest, his coloring was part of his beauty.
She had never hung out with black people, mostly because her family didn’t have any black friends. She really did live a sheltered life, but perhaps she was more sheltered than she realized. Did that make her racist? She might have seen a black man at first, but over the past week, she’d stopped seeing Tyson as anything other than a man. His color didn’t even register anymore.
His voice interrupted her thoughts. “You did the right thing, with a strange man so close to your home. But I need to know if the color of my skin is an issue, since we’re going to be neighbors.”
“It’s not,” she immediately assured him in a very small, but honest voice.
“Good, because I like you, Kat. I’d like to get to know you. I wouldn’t want there to be something as ridiculous as the difference in our race to cause a barrier between us and our having a friendship.”
Friends. Tyson wanted to be her neighbor and her friend, yet the way he was looking at her, dark smoldering eyes staring right through her as if she were naked behind only sheer whispers of secrets, told her he wanted more.
She didn’t do more. Ever.
Her lashes lowered and she stole a glance at his hand, his arm, and his chest. Heat bloomed somewhere dark and deep within her. Her thoughts fragmented and a little demon inside prodded her to touch him. What would he feel like? She actually considered accidentally bumping him.
Soft and gravelly, he asked, “Can we be friends, Kat?”
Swirls of breathless suspense rushed through her, awakening her blood like heated honey. When his voice dropped to that deep baritone whisper her body anticipated things her mind didn’t understand. It was drugging, lazy and tempting. Seductive.
Her gaze softened and her neck extended as the tension in her shoulders eased. Her voice was low and raspy, nothing like the way she usually sounded. “We can be friends, Tyson.”
A sort of lightheadedness took hold of her as those full, fringed black lashes lowered and his eyes darkened. Smoldering. Deep pools of onyx, flecked with swirls of amber looked into her and she could see the thin brindle edge of his irises. Focusing on the delicate V beneath his lip, she swallowed.
Flutters tickled her stomach taking her to a place just between uncomfortable and pleasurable, soft and fast. They hadn’t moved at all, but they needed to slow down. Like a tattoo needle, her heart raced.
That was when he touched her face.
Using the soft edge of his knuckle, he grazed the line of her jaw from her ear to chin. It was enough to ground her, making her aware of the physical space she occupied.
Her skin prickled as though she was falling. Her arms itched to cover herself, but her blood was too sluggish for her to move. She could barely get oxygen to her lungs let alone her brain.
A strangled whimper tickled her throat as he leaned in. His scent intensified, slipping inside of her as she sucked in a deep breath at the first brush of his lips. Like a laden balloon flies on its last breeze, kissing the air between sky and earth, his mouth hovered over hers, a caress somewhere in the space between.
His fingers pinched the edge of her chin, pulling her lips slightly apart. And then the space between them was gone. His plush, firm lips pressed into hers and she was drowning. The first slow lick of his tongue had her breasts tightening.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!
He barely touched her, yet she felt him everywhere. This was nothing like the kisses she’d shared with boys in high school, with Jeremy.
He pressed closer. The thin layer of clothing separating them was insubstantial as his front molded to hers. His weighty palm pressed over the center of her stiff spine, trapping her against him. No one had ever touched her so intimately.
How did she get here? Tongue to tongue he kissed her, slow and soft. His slanted mouth gently opened and closed. She could no longer deny the affect he was having on her as her body softened as her lashes lowered.
Amplified by her blindness, her senses caught fire. His lips sealed to hers as his large hand slid beneath her hair and a moan of satisfaction slipped from his mouth to hers.
She hadn’t been kissed in years and never had she experienced anything like this. If this was kissing what the hell had she been doing before?
He slowly slid his tongue over her bottom lip. Palms gently skidding over her clothing to her skin, he caressed her from shoulder to wrist and eased away.
A soft squeeze of her hands was the last warning she had that the kiss was over. Her spine extended as her mouth followed his. His soft chuckle had her opening her eyes. Dazed and intensely aroused, she blinked at him. Holy crap! What had she done?
He was still close, but with the hold he had on her wrists, he had complete control over their contact. He measured her through thick lashes, and breathed deeply through his nose as if memorizing her scent, sending shivers up her spine.
“You smell like sunshine,” he whispered.
His fingers released her wrists leaving an impression of heat, making the chill that replaced his touch all the more unsettling. He took a step away and she stood frozen in place. Was he leaving? Was that it? Shouldn’t that be it? What was she thinking?
He picked up his tools and took another step toward the door. “Goodnight, Kat. I’ll see you around.”
His words registered and she finally blinked. They were neighbors. There would be no avoiding him. Fingers trembling to her lips, she cursed under her breath, knowing she’d just made a terrible mistake.