Love and Pancakes, page 3
I nod my head, understanding what she’s saying, but at the same time, I’m not really as close as she may think. To tell the truth, I don’t really know her at all. We have mutual connections. My best friend’s wife is the granddaughter of Mary Ann’s brother – the one she just recently reconnected with. So there’s a family connection, and while I’m not family, I was there at Nick and Meghan’s wedding when Orval introduced Mary Ann as his sister.
“And Marissa is…”
“My youngest daughter. She was here when the fire started and called 911,” Mary Ann says.
I remember now. She’s the one who runs this place with Mary Ann. She made the phone call to her mom when she was with all of us at Nick and Meghan’s wedding.
“If you have any questions, you can find either her or me. I’ll be in and out, but Marissa lives in the cottage out back, so she’ll be on site most of the time,” Mary Ann adds just as the screen door opens and slams behind me.
“Mom, I’m going to call Jensen and see if he can…” the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard says behind me. I turn toward the sound, my eyes colliding with intoxicating green eyes. Something strong stirs in my chest. It’s as if a tornado has touched down, leaving my blood pumping and my breathing erratic. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
And she’s filthy.
“Marissa, this is Rhenn. He’s going to do all of the electrical work on the house,” Mary Ann says casually, standing up to greet her daughter. I follow suit, though I’m not really sure I should. Thank Christ for thick denim material. I only pray that it helps conceal the impact Marissa has on my body.
Specifically the lower half.
This angel, with her long, thick sandy blonde hair piled high on her head and smudges of dirt and soot smeared on her lightly freckled skin, gazes up at me with a look of shock. I’m not sure if she’s feeling the same pull as I am, or if it’s the fact that she looks like Cinderella right now after cleaning the entire castle.
But I can’t ignore the way my heartbeat speeds up and my body tightens.
I’m completely intrigued.
And so very well screwed.
Chapter Three
Marissa
Holy Mother of God, he’s beautiful.
Can a man be beautiful?
The answer is yes.
Yes, he most certainly can.
With his long, dark eye lashes that frame the most striking ocean blue eyes, dark blond hair that’s a touch on the tussled side, and tall, solid frame, this man is definitely gorgeous. And don’t get me started on the hint of a tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his tight T-shirt. He oozes confidence and sexuality just by standing, and I can tell at first glance this man is trouble.
So. Much. Trouble.
“Marissa, this is Rhenn, the electrician,” Mom says, pulling my attention from the stunning creature beside her. The electrician? I have to, like, work with this man all up in my space for the next few weeks?
My head screams, kill me now, while my body starts to do a little celebratory dance. This is bad. Very, very bad.
“Hello,” he says, his voice as smooth as silk. He takes a step toward me, his body moving like it was made for… sex. God! Now I’m thinking about sex! With this man! This stranger!
“Hi,” I reply, though it comes out an awkward squeak. I sound like a chipmunk. Awesome.
“We were just going over the plans for the electrical work. Jensen was supposed to be here to give Rhenn a quick tour,” Mom says, glancing at her watch. My eyes immediately go back to the man standing in front of me. He’s staring at me, his mouth slightly gaped open, and his eyes wide with wonderment.
But then I recall my appearance as I glanced in the bathroom mirror about twenty minutes ago. My hand flies up to my hair, which is piled on top of my head and sticking out in every which direction possible. There are smudges of soot and grime smeared all over my legs, arms, and cheeks. I’m filthy and gross – sweating in places I’ve never experienced before, thanks to the lack of air conditioning. My God, I get why he’s staring at me.
It’s not wonder; it’s disgust.
Mom is talking, but I have no idea what she’s saying – or for how long she’s been speaking, for that matter. I’m stuck, staring at the sexiest man alive, while resembling a homeless person who hasn’t showered in a week.
“…give him a call to see what’s taking him so long,” Mom says, pulling me from the lusty haze surrounding me.
“What?” I ask, turning her way and blinking.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asks, a look of concern on her face as she steps forward and presses the back of her hand on my forehead.
I shake her off. “I’m fine.” I keep my eyes focused on her worried ones, knowing I shouldn’t look at the man beside me, or risk turning into a stumbling idiot once more.
She gives me that Mom look and exhales deeply. “I said I was going to call Jensen to see what’s keeping him,” she repeats, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. I watch as she brings it to her ear and silently steps away when my brother answers the phone.
The air becomes thick and the silence deafening around me, while I wait for my mom to finish up her call. I can sense his eyes on me, feel the weight of his stare, which makes me both nervous and a tad bit giddy.
But mostly nervous.
Heavy on the nervousness.
“Sorry about that,” Mom says when she hangs up the phone. “Ashley called while he was running errands and said Max wasn’t feeling good. Jensen had to go pick him up and will keep him until Ashley gets home from work. He says he’ll stop by later tonight and deliver the supplies he picked up.”
“He can just bring them in the morning. There’s no need for him to make another trip out here,” I state, knowing my brother has been running ragged trying to get everything ready for the work that’s about to start at the bed and breakfast. Plus, his son isn’t feeling well, and he’s needed elsewhere right now.
“Rhenn, I’m sorry, but the tour may have to wait. I’m sure he’ll be able to do it as soon as you get here in the morning,” Mom says. “Unless,” she adds, turning and looking my way, “Marissa wants to go ahead and get it out of the way. She knows this place better than anyone.” Mom smiles proudly at me, and I’ll admit something stirs in my chest. I do know this place better than anyone, maybe even better than her. I’ve lived and breathed our home, our bed and breakfast, for my entire adult life, and even a good chunk of my childhood.
But alone with Rhenn? Giving him a tour when I look like I haven’t slept, showered, or eaten in days?
“I’m not so–” I start, but am cut off when Rhenn speaks up for the first time since our introduction.
“I’d be honored if Marissa would give me a tour.” His grin is inviting, charming even, and something tells me I have yet to discover the true powers of this man’s smile.
“Great! I’ll go make sure the contractor is ready to start tomorrow, and be out of your hair,” Mom says, a too bright, and almost too knowing, smile on her face. I watch her walk away, feeling oddly like I’ve been played.
Or worse, set up.
“Shall we?” he asks, pulling my attention away from the front door my mom just exited by and back to brilliant blue eyes that do naughty things to my unmentionables.
With a quick head nod, I walk toward the door, following in the wake of my mom’s subtle perfume. Rhenn is behind me, even though neither of us speaks. I can feel him there; I can feel how close his body is to mine. A shiver sweeps through my limbs, and I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with the temperature.
As we enter the place that was once my beloved sanctuary, the musty, mildew scent permeates my senses. “I’m sorry about the smell. We’re trying to keep all of the windows and doors open, but it doesn’t seem to be helping much. Everything downstairs was soaked, and the contractors will work on ripping up the flooring tomorrow. We’re hoping the subfloor won’t be too bad, but something tells me luck won’t be on our side,” I ramble as I head toward the grand staircase in front of us.
Rhenn doesn’t say a word, and even though I’m curious as to where his attention lies, I keep my eyes focused forward. The last thing I need is to see the disgusted look on his face at the gross mess he has to work in for the next few weeks. Besides, I’ll probably trip and fall over a step if I don’t keep my eyes straight ahead.
“This house was built in eighteen sixty-four by a wealthy English settler, a gift for his new bride. He purchased over two thousand acres of land along the Atlantic, but once the Depression hit in nineteen twenty-nine, his heirs eventually had to sell off large chunks of the property because of the big hit they took after the stock market crashed. This house, along with the ten acres around it, was the only asset the family was able to keep during that time.
“It changed hands several times between the fifties and nineties when my mom and dad purchased it. It was her dream to turn this old, worn down house into a bed and breakfast,” I state proudly as I reach the first guest room upstairs, realizing I’ve been blabbering for a few minutes.
I quickly turn to see if Rhenn is still behind me, or more accurately, if he got bored with my history lesson for today and decided to make a break for it. When my eyes meet his, I find him staring at me, a look of awe and fascination written all over his gorgeous face. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the story of this place, I just…”
“No, I didn’t mind,” he says, taking a step toward me. Very close to me, actually. He’s right in front of me, so near that I could reach out and touch the day-old stubble on his jaw. “I liked hearing about it. Your passion for this place comes through loud and clear when you talk about it.”
I continue to stare at him. The corner of his lip turns upward, and it appears as genuine as they come. He doesn’t seem to be mocking me, as Erik, my ex, used to do. He hated this place and often rolled his eyes every time someone would ask me about it, knowing I could spend hours talking about the history and day-to-day life of living here.
“Thank you,” I whisper, gazing up at him. My heart starts to pound in my chest and my throat is suddenly dry. I basically turn into my fifteen-year-old self, when one of my brothers’ football friends said hello to me in passing in the hall.
I’m not sure how long we stand there, staring at each other, but a barrage of inappropriate thoughts flit through my mind. Like is he a boxers or briefs kinda guy or does he prefers to be on top or bottom. I can feel the blush burn my cheeks because I can tell just by looking at Rhenn Burleski what the answers are to my wonderings.
And those answers leave me breathless.
Something falls one floor below us, breaking the spell we seem to be cast under. I jump back, anxious to get away from his powerful stare, yet so eager and curious as to why I want to stay trapped under that enticing look at the same time. His blue eyes shine like sapphires under the mid-afternoon sunlight, and I can’t get over the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to figure out or a problem he’s trying to solve. It’s completely disarming and turning me into someone I’m usually not. I need to get away from him.
Fast.
Clearing my throat, I take a giant step back, only to connect with the wall. “Shit,” I mumble, trying to regain my balance and make it look like I meant to do that.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking another step forward.
He’s so freaking close, I’m not sure I could answer his question. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m breathing at this point. “Yep!” I squeak out in a high-pitched noise that rivals a toddler.
Suddenly, I feel his hand. It starts at the base of my neck and gently slides upward, his fingers tangling into my hair. Now I know I’m not breathing. The little black dots peppering my vision confirm it.
“Breathe, Angel,” he whispers, soft as a feather, as his thumb caresses the back of my neck. “You hit your head.”
“I’m fine,” I gasp, sucking in big gulps of precious oxygen – in a very lady-like fashion, mind you.
He seems to stare just a few minutes longer, his fingers continuing to light a fire against my skin. I hope this man has no idea what he’s doing to me, but something tells me he does. He most certainly knows how to play a woman’s body as if it were a finely tuned musical instrument that he was born to play. Rhenn oozes sex appeal, and if I had to wager a guess, I’d say he’s well versed in the art of seduction.
Hell, he probably majored in it.
“Okay,” he finally says, taking a step back, yet leaving his fingers to linger just a few extra seconds on my skin.
I’m not liable to survive this day. Shit, probably not this series of weeks in which I have to work near this man. My body is already hypersensitive and my mind working overtime on images I should not be having. Yet, as hard as I try, I can’t get the picture of a very naked Rhenn out of my mind.
The contact is finally severed, and it’s followed very quickly by sight. He looks away so fast and stands so casually it makes me wonder if I just imagined our entire exchange. Looking at him now, he’s calm and collected Rhenn, here to do a job.
It hits me square in the chest like a hammer. Of course that’s what he’s here to do. Not play around with the owner’s daughter. There’s no denying how gorgeous this man is. He probably has women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis, so why in the hell would he waste his time on a plain Jane like me? Especially one who is covered in grime and smells like she hasn’t showered in days.
Giving myself a mental slap across the head, I turn my attention back to the tour. That’s what I’m here to do – not lust after the subcontractor. My cheeks burn once more, but this time with mortification. I can’t believe I ever thought someone like Rhenn would be interested in someone like me. He probably stares like that at all women. You know, the ‘I want to do dirty things to your body’ look that turns women into a pile of mush? Clearly Rhenn is well versed in the look, as well as the reaction it invokes.
Just wait until he meets Harper.
That thought makes my stomach drop to my shoes.
My sister is everything men want: tall, gorgeous, subtle curves, and legs for days. She’s a redhead too, which is like the unicorn of sexual conquests. I’ve never begrudged my sister of the looks she was born with, but dammit, why couldn’t just a little bit of it have rubbed off on me? I never stand a chance when you pin her next to me. They fawn over her every time, leaving me wanting to crawl back into the book-filled hole I came from.
Straightening my spine, I turn and face the first door. “We have five guest rooms upstairs, all with their own attached bath. It took a little remodeling work those first few years after Mom and Dad purchased this place, but it was worth the investment. We learned quickly that guests prefer the comfort of their own bathroom within their room,” I state, stepping into the first room.
I glance around at my favorite room. It faces the east and gives the faintest hint of the ocean beyond the trees. It’s decorated in a subtle beach theme, with soft blue, sheer curtains and a blue and white bedspread. Right now, though, the room is looking a little sad. Even the sunlight filtering through the large windows is no match of the nasty soot and smoke covering nearly every square inch of the room.
“I’ve started in this room,” I say absently as I walk toward the antique dresser, running my hand along the smooth dark wood I just spent an hour cleaning. “The dry cleaner thinks he can get the bedding and curtains clean, but I’m not so sure. I’ve never seen something so vibrant and beautiful look so dirty and hopeless.
“When we redecorated the guest rooms two years ago, this one was my favorite. I spent hours combing through website after website, looking for the perfect blend of beach and sensuality. I wanted this room to be an oasis for couples to come and relax, or reconnect as lovers. Now, the place I purchased from has closed down, I’m not sure I could find new décor that rivals the old stuff.”
The silence that fills the space causes me to turn around. Rhenn is standing there, his wide blue eyes riveted on me, and leaving me with the feeling of being completely exposed. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine when he says, “Beautiful.”
The crazy thing is…
I’m not so sure he’s talking about the room.
Chapter Four
Rhenn
We finish the rest of the tour rather quickly after that. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t know how to take my comment. Yes, the room was beautiful, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the elegant beauty that she possesses. Just looking at her makes me ache in places I have no business aching – and no, I’m not talking about the throb in my pants, though that has been prominent since the moment I laid eyes on her.
Marissa is stunning, and not in the fake, collagen-filled way I’m used to. She’s all sunlight and roses, while I’m more accustomed to leather and red lipstick. She couldn’t be any more different from the women I’m usually attracted to, but for some reason, I feel myself drawn to her like the tide to the shore.
Which is exactly why I need to keep my distance.
The last time I felt this kinda pull (the kind that doesn’t involve just my dick), I found myself in a serious relationship. It also went down faster than a barfly in a bathroom stall right before last call.
When we finally step outside, I can’t help but feel thankful for the fresh air. No, it’s wasn’t the soot-filled, smoke-lingering scents of the house that I couldn’t wait to get away from, but from her. Marissa. I could smell her everywhere we went. The cleanliness of her shampoo. The sweetness of her body lotion. It all fucked with my mind, making me want to explore every square inch of her body.
With my tongue.
Adjusting my pants as subtly as possible, I follow as she heads toward the tree line. I do everything I can to focus on our surroundings, yet my eyes still return to the gentle sway of her hips and the delicate roundness of her ass. It’s an ass that would fit perfectly in my palms – an ass that is made to be squeezed right as I drive myself deep inside her.
