Chapter Five
Marissa
The steady beeping of a truck backing up has me walking toward the window in the upstairs bedroom I’m working in. Gazing down at the flatbed truck, I see the rest of the building supplies being delivered, including the siding and two replacement windows. The contractor and several of his workers all scramble to unload the material, but what draws my attention is the large pickup truck opposite the commotion.
Rhenn is by his pickup truck, removing large spools of wire as if they weigh merely a few pounds. His worn jeans mold perfectly to his ass and powerful thighs – thighs that promise nothing short of pure thrusting power.
I blush as those dirty images filter through the cobwebs in my brain.
His T-shirt is tight against corded muscles, leaving nothing to the imagination. I can’t help but wonder if he knows exactly what kind of impact he has on the female population as a whole, or if he just wakes up in the morning, throws on an old T-shirt, and goes about his day as if nothing is wrong. As if women everywhere weren’t offering up their firstborn for one chance to strip off his clothes and have their dirty way with him.
Rhenn turns, his arms loaded with supplies, and glances up at the window I’m perving from. Our eyes connect for several heartbeats before the corner of his lip turns upward in a smirk I’d normally find insulting. But on him? Totally sexy.
Oh yeah, he totally knows.
I’ve been successful at avoiding him all day, keeping to myself upstairs in the guest room I’m cleaning. I’m not sure how he spent the day today, but I’ve heard him. The heavy thump of his boots on the hardwood floors has kept me on edge, alerting me that he’s near. Yet even if I couldn’t hear his presence, I’ve felt it. It’s as if my body is in tune only to him.
I back away from the window as if it were about to electrocute me, bumping into my bucket of warm soapy water. Of course it sloshes over and spills all over my foot. I mean, why wouldn’t it? Now I have to either run back to my house or deal with a wet sock and shoe for the remainder of the day.
Choosing the former, I toss my sponge onto the floor and head down the hall, the water squishing in my tennis shoe with each step I take. When I reach the base of the stairs and turn toward the living quarters in back, I hit a roadblock of building material. Two by fours, OSB, flooring, and drywall. Not to mention half a dozen men moving the goods into the rooms they’ll work on first.
With a deep sigh, I head out the front door where I collide with a solid chest and alluring masculine scent. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Rhenn says reaching out and grabbing for my arm to steady me.
“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I reply, trying to get my footing once more. When I look up, it’s like taking Thor’s hammer to the chest. His eyes – my God, those deep blue eyes – hold me hostage, completely against my will.
Okay, if I’m being honest, it’s not completely against my will.
Like the children follow the singing witch in the movie Hocus Pocus, I’d clearly go anywhere, do anything this man asks, even if it was to my own death.
That’s why I must initiate my Rhenn Burleski force field, keeping him and his sexy eyes and masculine scent and tree trunk thighs and broad shoulders and…
Where was I going with this?
“Marissa?” he asks, those blue eyes full of concern as they rake over my body from head to toe. A shiver slips down my spine, completely unwanted, but I can’t deny how my body reacts to him.
Stupid body.
“What?” I ask, vaguely recalling him asking a question.
“I asked if you were all right,” he states again, his eyes holding mine.
“Yes,” I whisper, that single word a plea.
Those eyes devour me once more, leaving me with a sense of being naked and exposed. I’m not used to feeling so bare, and usually I’m not, but there’s something about him – about Rhenn – that has my senses all out of sorts and my body on hyper alert.
“My shoe is wet.”
Yep, I said it. Of all the things that could come out of my mouth, that’s not exactly what I was hoping for. I could have gone with “Wow, your eyes are the same color as the sky” or maybe even “I love the way the ink on your arm peeks out from beneath your shirt sleeve. Can I lick it?” But no, I have to say the stupidest thing in the history of all conversations.
Rhenn glances down and checks out my shoe. When his eyes return to mine, there’s a bit of a sparkle in them, one that reminds me of starry nights and fireflies. It’s also the moment I realize he’s still holding me. I’m pretty confident it’s the reason my brain function has dropped below zero. My skin tingles and burns beneath his strong fingers, my blood pumps recklessly through my extremities. His touch is just as lethal as his smile, which is why I should take not one, but two steps back, to sever our connection and break the spell he has me under.
But as I will my feet to move, I find myself rooted completely in place. I’m trapped in his gaze, under his mysterious powers, and for a fraction of a second, I let myself just feel. Feel the way his fingers gently stroke my arms as he holds me, causing warmth to pool between my legs. Feel the way his eyes seem to watch and devour me. Feel the way his breath teases my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
Rhenn looks as if he wants to say something. I’m torn between wanting him to and hoping he doesn’t. It’s a slippery slope we walk on, because at the end of the day, there are too many reasons why acting on this attraction is stacked against us. Too many reasons why me wrapping my arms around his broad waist and letting him kiss me is a bad idea.
The connection is broken by the slamming of a car door. I jump back as if I were being burned and stumble over my own feet. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on which way you look at it), Rhenn is there, his strong hands still wrapped around my upper arms, and keeps me from falling. Again.
“Hey!” my sister, Harper, hollers as she approaches the front porch.
This time when I step back, Rhenn lets me go, and I immediately feel the loss of his touch. Disappointment sweeps through me, unwanted and unchecked, as I offer my sister my biggest, brightest, and probably fakest smile ever. “Hey!”
When she reaches the top of the stairs, she glances between Rhenn and me, a smile playing on her painted red lips. It’s a knowing grin, one that tells me she’s trying to piece together or dig too deeply into something that isn’t real.
Before I can say anything to refute whatever it is she’s about to say, she speaks. “Hey, Cowboy.”
“Well, good morning, sugar,” Rhenn replies.
I glance between the two, as they smile at each other, and feel my stomach drop into my wet shoe. Of course. Why am I even considering that there’s a budding attraction left hanging between Rhenn and I? There’s nothing, not when Harper is around. She’s gorgeous and exotic in a way that I could only pretend to be. Why would a man want a hamburger when he could have prime rib?
“You two know each other?” I find myself asking, though I don’t really want to know the answer. They’re both single – or at least I think they both are. I know Harper is, just having come out of a relationship with a loser who dicked around on her. But Rhenn? He could have a girl – or a wife – at home for all I know.
“We met last night,” Rhenn says, offering my sister another smile.
I just bet they did…
My stomach takes another swan dive as I picture my sister with Rhenn, laughing and touching. Those strong fingers I’ve felt caress my own skin were probably tangled in Harper’s hair last night. Before either of them can say anything else, I leap toward the stairs and fly down them. “Well, I have to go change my shoes. Harper, Mom’s in the kitchen. I’ll talk to you later,” I holler in one big run-on sentence, my wet shoe squeaking as I practically run away.
I make it around back, past the sawing and hammering, and to my cute little house in record time. Stepping up onto the small porch, I open the door (it’s never locked) and slam it behind me. My back sags against the hard wood, my breathing labored as I close my eyes and wish the world would just open up and swallow me whole.
They already have cute nicknames for each other…
I’d never begrudge Harper happiness, nor have I ever resented the fact that she looks like a freaking supermodel. It’s not her fault she was blessed with all of the good genes. She’s tall and skinny and athletic. I’m…well, not. Boys, guys, and men have always flocked to her all of her life. Even when we were younger, she was the Homecoming Queen that everyone wanted to date. She was the cheerleader who won the Scholastic Bowl tournament for our school, while wearing the quarterback’s jersey. She was the woman all of the single men in town tried to impress with wine and roses.
And I was always in the shadows, watching it all play out over the top of my paperback.
One time – one amazingly, fantastic time – did I appear to win the guy over her. But I learned quickly that looks can be deceiving. Vincent was a few years older than me in school, even though we didn’t hang out in any of the same circles, I knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was. When he showed up at the same coffee shop in town, not two, but three days in a row, at the same time I was getting my afternoon latte, I thought my luck with guys had finally changed. He was sweet, attentive, and hot.
He also had one eye on my sister.
Harper was in a relationship at the time, but that didn’t stop Vincent from always inserting himself into my life at all the right times. It took me a while to catch on to his game, but once I saw the writing on the wall, it was clear that he wasn’t into me as much as I was him. He was into Harper.
And I was devastated.
I could never be mad at her, even though I may secretly wish she’d grow a mole on her nose. Childish, yes, but if you’ve constantly been compared and found lacking to an older sibling, you’d understand. I love Harper, really, I do. She’s an amazing woman, with a heart of gold. Unfortunately, that heart has been kicked around and walked on by more men than I care to admit. She truly is one in a million and would do anything for anyone.
But that still doesn’t mean I want to picture her with Rhenn.
The man I secretly fantasized about last night when slipping between the sheets. The man I pictured running his full lips along my cheekbone as they slowly started to trek their way down my body. The man I may have thought about while touching myself long after the crickets went to bed and the owl called it a night.
The man who spent the night getting to know my sister.
I kick off my shoes and rip off my socks, tossing them somewhere into the tiny living room. I’m frustrated with myself for thinking about Rhenn as anything other than a subcontractor. I could tell the moment our eyes met that he’d be trouble, and dammit, I was right. He’s a distraction I don’t need, or want. I can’t let his gorgeous smile and his sexy swagger pull my attention from getting this place up and running again. That’s where all of my focus needs to be, not on the way his jeans seem to mold to his ass or the way his muscles flex beneath the soft, worn cotton of his T-shirt.
If he wants to screw around with Harper while he’s here, then fine.
So be it.
I don’t care.
But if the way my stomach plummets back into my feet is any indication, I do care. I care a lot. Because for just a few minutes, for just a short moment in time, I pictured him as mine. Not Harper’s, not anyone else’s. Mine. Even if the fantasy is never acted upon, it was planted, taking root and growing into something that was mine alone.
I let out a frustrated growl and grab a clean pair of socks from my drawer. I shove my feet into them as if I were angry at the poor things and reach for a dry pair of tennis shoes. Just as I’m lacing them up, my front door opens. I already know who it is. Harper never knocks.
“Hey,” she says brightly as she enters my small space.
“Hey,” I reply, keeping my head down and my focus on tying my shoes. You’d think I had never done it before with the amount of concentration I was putting into it.
“You okay?” she asks, coming over and sitting down beside me.
“Fine, great, wonderful. You?” I ask, offering her a blinding smile.
“I’m good,” she replies, her smile not nearly as forced or fake.
The silence hangs between us for several heartbeats. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. “So, you and Rhenn, huh?” I ask, trying to act like I don’t care. If the look she gives me is any indication, I already know that I’m failing miserable.
“Me and Rhenn, what?” she asks, her lips turning upward just the slightest.
“Well, you know. You guys met up last night,” I reply, willing myself to stop talking. I really don’t want to know.
“We ran into each other at The Station. Free and I went up for a drink after inventory, and he was there.”
“Nice,” I respond, messing with my socks as if they were bunched up around my ankle.
“Funny thing happened,” she says, shoulder bumping me. “The entire time we visited, I felt like he was a bit distracted.”
“Well, your beauty does that to guys,” I reply with a smile, knowing it’s completely true.
“That’s not it. He was distracted by someone else. Someone who wasn’t there.”
Figures. Leave it to me to be completely attracted to a manwhore with a waitlist a mile long. I don’t reply, just stand up and adjust my shorts. Harper follows suit and towers over me, smiling down at me with a knowing look.
“I could tell something had his attention, and it wasn’t anyone in the bar. And the funniest thing happened when I mentioned you.”
Air stops in my throat, choking me. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. As soon as I mentioned my sister, his eyes seemed to transform. He’s interested,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
“Well, I’m…not.”
“No?” she asks, following me as I make my way to the door. I have so much more work to do in the house, and I really need to get back to it.
“Of course not. Why would I be?”
“Because he’s gorgeous? Funny? Sexy? And looks at you like you hung the moon?” That makes me stop in my tracks. “What, you don’t think he notices you? I was there for about five seconds and could see it. That man is completely enamored with you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumble, pulling open my front door and stepping outside.
“No?” she asks, hurrying behind me and pulling my door closed. “Then I must be reading it all wrong. You’re probably right, I’m sure he’s not interested,” she adds, making me stop and turn toward her.
“I’m pretty sure he’s not.” My voice sounds small and unconvincing, even to my own ears.
“Then it must be someone else he’s staring at, watching from a second floor window right now. It must be someone else’s ass he can’t take his eyes off of. Couldn’t possibly be you, right?” Her smile is victorious and grates on my nerves just a little.
“He is?”
“Oh, he definitely is. It’s probably a good thing we can’t see what’s going on in his mind right now because I’m sure it’s deliciously dirty.”
“You’re bad,” I reply, taking a swat at her arm before turning back to the house.
And because I’m glutton for punishment, I glance up, finding Rhenn exactly where Harper said he was. He’s watching me, and even though I could argue it’s her who has his attention, I know that it’s not. It’s me. He follows my movements from the yard to the house until our line of sight is broken by the tall shrubbery that surrounds the back porch.
I know this because my eyes watch him too.