If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,87

up in a messy bun on the top of her head, wild strands falling around her face. She wore a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a red tank top, a navy-blue plaid shirt tied around her waist. In her hands, a sledgehammer.

And she looked adorable. More than adorable, in fact. She looked gorgeous.

For a split second, they stood there, not saying a word. The air between them sizzled and he imagined all the things he’d like to do if circumstances were different.

He wouldn’t say a word. He’d walk straight to her, back her up against the wall, and kiss her until neither of them could see straight.

Desire coursed through his veins, spiking his heart rate, impossible to ignore.

Finally she let the top of the hammer fall loose to the ground. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He begged his pulse to slow down. Willed his mind to stop running off without his permission. Remembered there would be repercussions if he acted on the things he was thinking.

Remembered he ruined things.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Jack?”

“He had to go,” Hollis said. “Need help?”

He counted off the seconds in his head as she watched him, their eyes connected as if they were something more than just friends. This was doing nothing to steady his breathing.

“Uh, sure,” she said.

He walked over to where she stood and brushed past her as he began to create a pile out of the massive mess she’d made tearing down the wall.

A heavy tension hovered in the air between them as he worked, and he searched his mind for something—anything—to say to make it disappear.

“You’re a messy worker,” he finally said.

He wouldn’t be winning any awards for excellent conversation starters, but it was the first thing that came to his mind. And it was followed by her glorious laugh, which was enough to keep him from feeling stupid—and enough to cut the tension out of the room.

They worked in amicable silence for several minutes while Hollis made trips to the Dumpster and she continued to pound on the wall.

“You seem to have a knack for destroying things,” he joked. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“It’s very therapeutic. You should try it.”

He glanced at her, and she held the hammer out in his direction. “Are you tired?” he asked.

“Actually, yes, and starving.”

He took the hammer from her and handed her his phone. “Order a pizza. You’ve put in more than a full day.”

“But there’s still a little more wall to knock out,” she said.

“I’ll get it.”

She sighed the words “My hero” and grinned at him.

He turned away to hide his smile, but man, he loved being around her. He told Emily to go figure out what Jack did with her plates as he finished knocking out the wall, then carried the debris to the Dumpster.

He’d just about finished when the pizza guy showed up in the driveway. He paid for the food, then returned to the kitchen carrying the box, but the room was empty.

“Em?”

“Outside,” she called.

He followed her voice to the patio, which, in spite of still being torn up, looked cozy under the moonlight with two flickering candles on the table. Emily lounged in one of the chairs, feet up on another one.

“My shoulders are killing me from that hammer,” she said. “Will you rub them? I know it’s annoying, but I can feel the knot right . . . here.” She stuck her hand where her neck and shoulder met.

Hollis set the pizza on the table, then moved over behind Emily and rested his hands on her shoulders. She picked one of his hands up and pressed it down on her shoulder where she did, indeed, have a healthy knot forming. “Feel that?”

“Yeah, it’s tight,” he said.

He stared at the back of her neck, and it stared back, bare, like a welcome invitation.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, you know,” he said.

“You’ve never given any of your girlfriends a back rub before?”

He chose to laugh instead of respond. He didn’t know how to tell her he hadn’t seriously dated many women. He’d had a few relationships, but none were noteworthy. His longest was with a woman named Cherise, a flight attendant and maybe the only person he knew who traveled more than he did. They’d only been together a year, but he knew at the beginning it wasn’t going to last—he was just too . . . something . . . to end it. He kept thinking maybe he’d feel differently the next time he