Men Times Three (5 page)

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Authors: Bonnie Edwards

BOOK: Men Times Three
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“You're not even winded,” she noted, “while I'm bushed. I'm out of shape for this type of work.”

He accepted the invitation to skim her figure with his gaze. “You look like you're in shape to me.” His cock rose at the temptation he read in her eyes, and when he caught her looking at his biceps, he shifted the table.

She chuckled. “You're something, TJ, you know that?”

“As are you, Marnie, as are you.” The push pull between them lightened his day. He put the table on the floor, hopeful.

She ignored the obvious invitation to step closer and headed for the stack of furniture instead. “I run when I can, but I miss my yoga practice. I haven't been to class for a year. If I hadn't given up, I wouldn't feel so stiff.”

“There's a soaker tub in my master bath. I'll run it for you when we get home.” Another sexy look over her shoulder and he applauded the impulse he'd had to install the tub last year.

She lifted one corner of her mouth. “Toss in some Epsom salts and I'll take you up on the bath.” When she picked up her dusting rag, he picked up the table and watched as she dropped out of sight behind the counter to continue cleaning. “Ugh, it's filthy in these drawers and I think I see—whoa—could you come here please?” Her voice went hollow so he set the table down and moved fast.
Thump.
“Tell me this isn't what I think it is.”

She'd landed on her butt in the dust, a look of horror on her face. She'd pulled the bottom drawer all the way out for cleaning.

“Oh, hell, we'll have to call an exterminator and the sooner the better, because that's one big ugly rat.”

“How long's it been dead d'you think?” She shuddered again. He reached a hand down to help her up. She took it and he pulled her up fast. Her breasts mashed against his chest as he steadied her.

He tilted his head toward the drawer. “It's been dead a long time, but where there's one, there's more. I can't see how it got in, there are no chew marks on the drawer.”

She leaned against him. “Did the kids just stick it in there to die of starvation?”

“Not likely.” He slipped his arm around her. “No gnaw marks on the inside either.”

“I'll have to disinfect this whole area.” She stepped away from him and he felt the loss. She dropped to her knees in front of him and slipped on rubber gloves. “Why do I get the feeling this makes you happy?”

She looked up into his face with a suspicious expression. From here it wouldn't take much to peer down her cleavage or slip his hand behind her head and tug her toward—he cut off the thought. No good could come of rushing her.

“Me? No, I'm not glad you've got a rat problem. It's gross.” But having rats in the inn would keep her at his place longer than she planned. Which suited him just fine. He opened his hands to take the drawer. “I'll take care of this.”

“Thanks, again. Furniture mover, rat remover. You're a multi-talented man.” She slipped her palm into his, with a sweetly sexual expression that sent a jolt of lust into his gut. He controlled his movements so that when she stood, he didn't even grab her close. Instead, he played the gentleman and let go of her hand.

Played was the right term. This was a game they'd entered. A sexual game of thrust and parry and come hither looks that could kill him before he got where he wanted to go.

Or maybe not.

She slapped at the dust on her shorts and stepped away with a briskness that showed no interest. Unless dumping a bucket of black filthy water counted. She carried the bucket out to the kitchen and dumped it down the old porcelain sink.

He picked up the drawer and then walked past her out the back door. “I'll make sure that cellar door's secure for the night.”

“I'll get a set of security lights with motion detectors first thing in the morning,” she called out after him.

Another thing for him to do for her. At this rate, he'd be in sweet clover in no time.

In his pickup truck an hour later, he watched as she buckled her seat belt and released the elastic band she'd used to cinch her hair at the nape of her neck. Her hair fell free and he wanted to run his fingers through it so badly he clenched his teeth to stop himself.

The air and stillness in the cab filled out, moist and heavy when she turned her half-lidded eyes on him. “Thanks a lot for your help. I appreciate it.” She slid her palm up his forearm and back to her thigh before he could capture it.

“No problem. I'm here to serve.”

“Right. Then take me home, TJ. I'm not going to pretend that soaker tub isn't calling me. I'll be stiff and sore in the morning, but a hot bath will do wonders for me now.”

Her phone rang and she fumbled through her bag to get the call. She talked while he drove with half an ear on her conversation. From Marnie's half of the conversation, it was her cousin Holly saying she was on her way in the morning.

“Great, see you then,” she said and hung up.

“You didn't tell her how much work the inn will need before you can put it on the market.”

She wrinkled her nose and looked endlessly kissable. “I've already done that. She's the one with all the decorating talent. She can make the place look great.”

“You said she has more time to spend here than you do?”

“She has her reasons for wanting to hide up here, while all I want is to get back to the city.”

“You think living here is hiding?”

“Don't you? With your talent, you could be anywhere, but instead—sorry—I shouldn't have said anything.”

“You think I'm hiding here? That I'm not ambitious enough?”

“I didn't say that.” But she'd thought it. The guilty gleam in her eyes said so.

“Or do you think I'm afraid of the competition in the city?”

Her silence said more than a phoney denial would. It stung, that silence, but he'd be damned if he corrected her assumption.

He pulled in to his compound and parked the truck beside the bumblebee she called a car and climbed down. By the time he got to her side, she'd landed on her feet. He shut the door. “I would have helped you out.”

“If you'd held me while I jumped out, I would have collapsed in your arms. You'd be carrying me inside.” A shaky smile accompanied the words. “I shouldn't have said anything about your choice to stay here.”

“I chose to come back. It isn't that I never left.”

“Where'd you go?”

He smiled but made no comment. Let her stew about it. It would do her good to wonder. So far, he'd been an open book.

She sauntered up onto his porch and through his front door without pressing for an answer.

The mundane details of towels and fresh sheets on the guest room bed and a fresh bar of soap behind them, TJ set the faucets to run into his tub while she got ready for her bath.

When he turned around, he had to pick his jaw up off the floor. She was in a silky, short colorful robe that barely covered the tops of her thighs. Her auburn hair swayed free at the tips of her breasts, and with her sash drawn tight, the lapels showed a sweet line of cleavage.

Steam rose into the room and he stood there like an imbecile, no doubt drooling. She cocked her head and waited, clasping the towels he'd given her.

He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, I guess I'll leave you to it, then.”

“Yes, I guess you will.”

“If it gets too steamy in here, I can crack open the window.”

“Thanks, that would be great.” She shifted on her pretty bare feet while he took care of the window for her. “An inch should do it.”

“I'm sure that's fine.”

He sidled out the door, edging his way around her and damned himself for leaving. He should have grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, but Marnie Dawson had him by the 'nads and she wasn't letting go long enough to let him think let alone act on his desire.

The next hour flew by as he grabbed ingredients for an omelette and groaned four hundred and ninety-five times at the thought of Marnie covered in bubbles and steam, her breasts bobbing on the surface of his tub.

Her comment still rankled him. He'd never considered that his return to the Peninsula could be construed as a failure, even by someone who didn't know him. He thought back to this afternoon when they'd first seen each other. All he'd said was that the Peninsula was home. Which was true. He hadn't seen the need to explain anything else. He was here now, and here is where he planned to stay.

The sound of water draining from the tub alerted him to her imminent arrival. Distracted, he burned his hand on the kettle when he reached for it to pour her a cup of tea. “Damn it.” He flicked his hand and stuck his burnt fingertip into his mouth.

“Poor baby, want me to do that for you?” she asked from behind him. Close behind him. She was light on her feet, or he'd have heard her.

She grabbed his hand away from his mouth.

And damn if she didn't do exactly what she offered.

The feel of her warm wet mouth on his finger blew his mind. What was left of it shattered further with the way she pressed his forearm to her chest, wedging it between her breasts. Her wicked tongue swirled around his burnt fingertip once, twice.

Three times.

She released him with a soft seductive pop and then stepped back out of reach.

The kettle whistled while his pulse pounded in the rush of blood to his cock.

Every male hormone he possessed told him to lean in, grab her and finish the race, but her impish look of triumph stopped him before he made a fool of himself.

She was a witch who knew how to wield every weapon at her disposal.

With a wink, she slipped to the far side of the sandwich bar and took a seat on a stool. Like a prim miss, she gathered the sides of her short robe and propped her chin on her hand. “What's for dinner?”

You.

 

Two hours after he'd had the life sucked out of his finger, TJ headed for the staircase. His cock had been hard all through dinner and hadn't subsided until Marnie had disappeared into the guest room.

He'd taken care of some business calls and tracked his youngest brother's movements to an island in the Caribbean. Eli answered after three rings.

“There's a woman here, Teeje.” He used the name he'd always used as a kid.

“There's always a woman somewhere, Eli. But unless she lives in Port Townsend and knows how to wire a log building, I'm not interested in hearing about her.”

“You've got to get a life, Teeje.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. Eli had no idea he wanted exactly that. A life. But for now he might have to settle for the woman upstairs. He had no doubt they were in the initial stages of an affair. He wasn't stupid enough to say no to Marnie. But his ultimate goal had nothing to do with a temporary woman.

Caribbean music blared in the background and he plugged his other ear to hear better. “O'Banion Construction's headed into a busy summer. We're finally building those cabins Jon Dawson talked about.”

“I heard about old Jon. Sorry about that; I know you thought of him as a good friend.”

“I may have been his only one.” They'd never seen much of each other, but when they did, they'd packed a lot of talking in.

“You're building these cabins for the new owners?”

“I'm building them for Jon. He's the one I had the agreement with.”

“I see. So the new owners are on board?”

“The granddaughters inherited the inn. The first one arrived today, there's another due tomorrow and the third one will get here sometime.” He explained that Marnie and Holly hadn't met Kylie Keegan.

“Are they hot?”

“If I tell you they are, will it get you back here any sooner?”

“When you put it that way, I wouldn't believe you if they all look like supermodels. Scratch that, some of them are too damn skinny. Let's say lingerie models. Yes, I'd be on the next flight if they look like lingerie models.”

An image of Marnie's soft cleavage flashed behind his eyes. “Never mind what Marnie looks like.”

“Oh, ho, sounds like she's a looker. No prob, I'll just call Deke; he'll fill me in.”

“If you're not here by early next week when we've got the foundations poured, I'll find another electrician.” Eli knew there wasn't enough work for two, so if he arrived late, there'd be no work for him. TJ wasn't a man to hire a skilled trade then let him go without cause. Not for his brother, not for anyone.

“I'll think about it,” Eli responded, getting the last word. Like always.

TJ hung up on the dial tone and considered his options for an electrician if Eli chose to stay with the woman he'd found. The pickings were lean because a lot of good men had left the Peninsula for work elsewhere. Still, he'd find someone, even if he had to bring in somebody from north of the border.

He turned off his desk lamp, shut off his laptop and headed up to bed.

As he walked by the guest room, a moan caught his attention. He stopped and cocked his head toward the door. Ah, hell. Never mind privacy, he had to listen.

He shut his eyes to focus on the sound. Panting. And the faint buzz of a small appliance. Hot damn. Another moan.

His cock, never far from hard since Marnie's arrival, responded. Behind his eyes he saw her in his guest bed, covers thrown back, legs open and heading for orgasm. The head of the vibrator circled her delicious pink lips, then touched lightly on her clit.

Was the lube she used strawberry, like her lip gloss had been? He slid his hand to the doorknob, then stilled. If he turned it and walked in, would she welcome him? Ask him to take that vibrator's place? He wanted to.

Scratch that. He'd
love
to walk in, but she'd sent so many mixed signals he hesitated. And he couldn't quite get over the insult to his ambition she'd lobbed at him.

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