“I hear you’re going to have a big party when it’s done.”
“That’s what I hear, too.”
“People driving by break their necks looking at it.”
“They haven’t got your view, Dick.” The phone jingled in his pocket. “I’ll see you later.” He pulled it out as he walked. “What’s the matter, Ry? Did you miss me?”
“Like a butt rash. Tile guys have a question on the wall pattern down here. Mom’s in Hagerstown, so you’re elected to answer.”
“On my way.”
He finally walked into his office closer to ten than the nine o’clock start time he’d planned on. But he didn’t mind. Every step, he thought—and poured the last of the morning’s coffee in a mug—was a step.
He dealt with the calls first because he hated them most, then settled down to update the plans for furniture placement with some additional purchases.
Once he shot the updates to everyone’s email, he opened a file.
He was damn well going to finalize the signage today—and they’d better like it.
They’d whittled it down to three possible fonts because nobody wanted to commit. Well, today he committed for all of them.
He fiddled around with all of them, with spacing, size, color tones. Got up, walked around, went to the window and stared out at the building, trying to see it. Went back, rechecked measurement, math, fiddled some more.
Food, he decided, and called downstairs for a calzone.
This is it, he told himself, and printed out a copy. He took it to the window, held it up with one eye closed. Smiled.
“And he deems it good.”
To add impact and persuasion, he sat again, worked on a sign for the gift shop using the same palette and font.
“Yeah, it’s open,” he called out at the knock on the door. He started to rise, reach for his wallet. And his day got just a little brighter when Clare came in with a take-out box.
“Moonlighting at Vesta? I bet you make great tips.”
“I’m saving up for a new car.” She offered the box and a smile. “I was downstairs when they boxed it up, so I said I’d bring it since I wanted to talk to you. It’s on your tab.”
“Good deal.” He set it aside. “I’ll split it with you.”
“Thanks, but I’m just going to grab a quick salad, then give Hope a hand for an hour. But I wanted to—”
“I didn’t give you your tip.” He braced his hands on her hips, drew her in. “You smell great.”
And looked, he thought, a lot more relaxed and happy than she had since their discussion about Lizzy.
“I’ve been sampling some new body lotions we’re thinking of carrying. This one’s apricot and honey.”
“Sold.”
He leaned down, slid into the kiss, into apricots and honey and Clare. Too long, he thought, as her arms linked around his neck. Too long since he’d really held her, really had her.
“You’re an excellent tipper.”
“That’s just the down payment.” He backed her toward the door. “You have to come with me for the rest.”
He backed her out, and into his apartment.
“Beckett.” She laughed, but he heard the hitch in her breath, felt her quiver when he grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. “I can’t. We can’t. It’s the middle of the day.”
“Lunch break.”
“Yes, but—”
“I think about you all the time.” He kept backing her up, his lips gliding over her neck, back to hers. “About being with you again, like this. It’s hard seeing you and not being able to touch you.”
“I know. I—”
“Let me touch you.”
He already was, his hands roaming, molding, spreading needs to smother common sense.
“I guess I could be a little late.”
He slid his hand under the skirt of her dress, trailed it up her leg, over her, down again.
“I can definitely be late.”
She fell back on the bed, her heart already racing, her body already revved. Crazy, irresponsible, wonderful, she thought when his mouth pressed, his teeth nipped at her breast—somehow wildly sexy with the material between them.
She let out a gasp of shock when his fingers snaked under the dress again, and into her.
“God. Oh God.”
“Just go.” Crazed now, he drove her higher while he feasted on the warm skin of her throat. “Just go.”
She bucked under him, her hands clutching at the tangle of sheets, her eyes dazed. When she came, the long, shuddering moan arrowed straight to his loins.
And when she went limp, when her eyes closed, he yanked down his jeans, tossed up her skirt. And plunged into her.
The cry of shock sounded again, and now her hands clutched at