Chapter Eight
Taylor shifted in the chair, trying his damnedest to get comfortable—a feat he hadn’t accomplished all night. Not five feet away, Caitlin was sound asleep on the bed. Beauregard’s huge bulk was draped across the foot of the mattress, hanging off both sides and snoring like a chainsaw.
The fucking dog was on the bed. Never in his life would he have imagined being jealous of a dog.
He rolled his neck from side-to-side to loosen the stiffness. He’d slept in plenty worse places than an upholstered chair. Maybe he was getting soft…no. It was that she was so soft. He remembered how she felt melting into their embrace. Her soft breasts against his chest, her lips. The way she tasted. Damn.
He’d come undone when she’d sighed after their kiss, alternating between wonder and discomfort from a persistent hard-on for the rest of the round of Truth or Dare. Mercifully, Grams had ended the night after his turn. Maybe it was because he’d spun off into ridiculous.
“Lightning.” He shifted in the chair again. What had gotten into him? Just like his body, his brain had gone on autopilot. Only the wrong coordinates had been entered and he’d ended up in—he grinned—Weirdville.
Smart. Funny. He couldn’t recall someone he’d been more curious about. He’d dated on and off when time allowed, but it had just been going though the motions—a way to break up the work schedule. Only the work schedule always seemed to break up his dates. He couldn’t recall having a full dinner with a woman in the last year, but in all honesty, he hadn’t tried that often. Being seated at a table only to be called away was worse than not going at all. Hell, after he’d left Deborah, a woman he’d become friends with at the gym, to finish her dinner alone, she’d been furious. She’d left a message earlier, agreeing to go out with him next Tuesday, but he’d cried off, knowing the same thing would simply happen again. They’d get their wine, place their orders, and his phone would ring.
The Andersons liked to do things on the fly. That was one of the reasons Michael Anderson closed so many deals. He jumped on opportunities when they first arose, which often meant getting to a face-to-face meeting on short notice, at inconvenient times—like evenings and weekends. They had one permanent and one on-call pilot for their planes, but Taylor was their only helicopter pilot, so if it was a short run, he was on. But that would change soon. A new pilot would be hired for New York while he went to cater to the new Boston office start-up.
At first, he’d been unhappy about the move, but the more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. He’d have a normal schedule for the first time. And time off. This was the first weekend he’d taken off in the ten months he’d worked exclusively for Anderson Enterprises. He hadn’t realized what an impact the downtime would have. To not look at his phone constantly. To not detach from things because he could be called away at any second. To be present.
And, man, was he present. It was like he was tuned to the Caitlin channel. All Caitlin, all the time. He couldn’t recall this kind of awareness with anyone else before. He shook his head. He didn’t have time for this—for focusing on someone else right now. He was leaving. And as much as he wanted to have sex with Caitlin Ramos, he knew a one-nighter would never be enough. It was good she’d demanded limits. Thank God for limits.
The sun was finally rising, causing a rectangle of light to peek around the thick curtains. At least his torture would be over soon and he could get out of this chair. Caitlin rolled to her side and brushed her hair out of her face, but it fell right back across like a silky gold sheet.
Okay. Who was he kidding? Limits sucked. His fingers itched to brush the soft strands from her face. His fingers itched to do lots of things. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and gritted his teeth.
His body tensed all over when he heard footsteps on the wooden porch.
“Hello, lovebirds!” Gram’s voice called from outside the cabin. “May I come in?”
Shit, shit, shit! He hadn’t locked the door, and if she found him in the chair and Caitlin on the bed, the gig was up.
Caitlin sat bolt upright, still fully dressed from the night before, eyes wide.
“Uh… Just a minute, Grams!” he yelled. “Let us get decent.”
Instead, he did just the opposite, flinging his shirt over his head and shucking his pants.
“It’s cold out here,” she complained.
“What are you doing?” Caitlin whispered.
“Playing the part.” He shot a look at the door and then back to her. “Take off your shirt.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Shirt. Off. Now.” He grabbed a throw blanket from the chair and wrapped it around his middle, hiding his boxer briefs to make it look like he’d dragged himself out of bed naked. Fuck, he wished he had. Even pissed and confused, Caitlin was a masterpiece, glaring at him with the covers pulled up to her chin.
“What did I say about not liking orders?” she said through gritted teeth.
Grams knocked. “What are you doing in there?”
“What do you think we’re doing, for Pete’s sake?” he shot back. “We’re sleeping. Or we were.”
A chuckle from the other side of the door.
He strode to the bed and covered one of Caitlin’s fists clutching the edge of the quilt with his hand. “Please go with this. It’s only for a moment. I won’t watch when you take your shirt off, but you need to look like…like we…”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Like we had fun and games in the magic cabin?”
“Yeah.”
She made a twirling motion with her hand and he turned around. Hearing fabric slide over her skin was one of the sexiest things ever, and it seemed to go on forever, broken by the occasional interruption of a piece of clothing hitting the floor. There was rustling of sheets as Taylor walked toward the door. “Tell me when.” He rested his hand on the knob, dying to turn around.
Beau’s collar jingled, followed by a series of thuds as his paws hit the floor.
“When,” she said.
Grams strode straight in when he opened the door, and her grin widened. When Taylor turned to see what had made her smile, his breath caught.
Caitlin was no longer in the center of the bed fully clothed under perfectly flat sheets and blankets. Now, she was close to one edge, leaving more than half the bed empty as if he’d been there with her until moments ago. If only. The quilt was bunched and rumpled like a wrestling match had happened on it. She had the sheet pulled over her breasts, revealing bare shoulders. Her clothes were strewn randomly on the floor with her bra clinging to a knob on the dresser like it had been thrown off in haste…well, it had been. Sadly, not the way it should have been—by him, preferably after he’d pulled it off with his teeth.
He bit back a groan.
“I just dropped in to let you two know that we have eggs and waffles ready,” Grams said.
“Thanks,” Caitlin answered with an embarrassed smile.
Taylor followed Grams to the door, clutching the blanket wrapped around him with one hand. “You could have called or texted instead of launching a surprise attack and dropping in unannounced.”
She smiled up at him. “Taylor Blankenship. Where’s the fun in that?”
…
Caitlin pulled the covers up to her neck as Taylor closed the door behind his grandmother. That had been a totally crappy way to wake up, especially since their unexpected guest had interrupted one of the best dreams ever. Like crazy good.
“Do you think she’s on to us?” he asked.
She gestured to the debris field of clothes thrown around the room like confetti. “If she is, it’s not for lack of effort on our part.”
His eyes skimmed the room, stopping on her bra hanging from a dresser knob, and her face flushed hot.
“Nice touch,” he said, and her face grew even hotter.
Yeah, that hadn’t been intended. Just a lucky, or unlucky, toss. His gaze slid from the bra to her breasts. And wouldn’t you know it? Those girls answered right back with a two-nipple salute visible through the sheet. His body tensed.
Dammit. She pulled the quilt up even with the sheet and held her breath, but Taylor didn’t move. He just stood there, body stiff, with a smoldering expression on his face, holding a blanket around him and looking like a character out of some gladiator movie, all ripped and golden-skinned and painfully male.
Limits, she reminded herself when the impulse to ditch the covers and yank that blasted blanket off him completely zapped her common sense into dust specks. A man like this was the last thing she needed right now—now or ever. What she needed was to make it through this weekend, keeping her hands and mouth and everything else she’d dreamed about putting to good use last night to herself. This guy was one of Animal Attraction’s key clients. He was best friends with their investors, for goodness sake. And although Jane had instructed her to keep him happy, Caitlin was pretty sure the kind of happy she’d dreamed about was not what Jane had in mind. And yet, that look on his face made her want to throw all that logic out the window and take that amazing body of his for a test drive.
No. She shook herself mentally. The limits were good and she was sticking to them and she’d tell him so.
He took a step closer to the bed.
Yep. Any second now, she’d tell him. Remind him about the limits and why they were a good idea.
He took another step.
Any second…
With a record scratch, he turned away, shaking his head as if to clear it. “We’d better get moving if we don’t want to miss out on the waffles. Between Bethany and Uncle Rock, we might already be too late. Beth can really put them away.” And then he disappeared into the bathroom.
Once the water in the shower started up with a hiss, she slid out of bed and pulled on her pants. “What was that?” she asked Beau, who was sitting at the foot of the bed watching her. “Did you see that? He was totally going there.” She pointed at her breasts. “There.” Beau answered with a wag of his tail. “Like that close,” she said, indicating about a half inch between her thumb and forefinger.
She wasn’t disappointed. No way. That sinking feeling had to be relief. Absolutely. Taking a deep breath, she shook off the last of her hornies and pulled on her rumpled shirt. The limits and no fooling around rule was her suggestion and a really good idea. The best idea. She’d make it through this weekend, fulfilling her end of the bargain. Then Taylor would keep his end of their deal by working the charity dinner for the shelter. Done. Boom. Happy ending.
The shower stopped as she rooted through her suitcase for some fresh clothes. By the time Taylor opened the bathroom door wearing his usual uniform, a bath towel, she had her shit together, not only from her suitcase, but in her head. She fully intended to enjoy the rest of this weekend with this super cool, fun group of people without any more complications.
Shoulders back, feeling confident in her renewed conviction, she passed Taylor on her way to the bathroom, pausing only long enough to snag her black lace bra dangling from the dresser knob.