Man Candy, page 4
She shifted her gaze from the mess to me. “He’s not married.”
“That’s not a surprise,” I said.
“I still need to make a list.”
It seemed that was something she did. That it helped her feel organized. In control. Especially now when she definitely wasn’t.
I looked around her room for a pencil but all I could find was a fucking tree. I pulled my cell from my pocket and pulled up the notes app.
“Okay, let’s make a list.”
Ten minutes later, I walked out to the car with two bags slung over my shoulder and a list a mile long in my phone.
The fire department had boarded the kitchen window and left. Mr. VanMeyer was nowhere to be seen.
Lindy locked the front door behind her and followed me to my car–we’d left hers at the grocery store in our rush to get here. After tossing her bags in the back, I held the passenger door open for her.
As she slid in, she looked up at me and said, “I can stay at a hotel.”
I took in the way her jean skirt rode up her thighs, which made my one word reply a little louder than it should have probably been. “No.”
“I need to go tell Bridget about this, then stay with them.”
I leaned on the open door so I could meet her gaze. “Call Bridget, but sleep in Mav’s guest room? Sugar, you really want to do that?”
I didn’t want to point out that her little sister was going to be busy having sex with my big brother.
She quirked her lips, coming to that conclusion too.
“You could stay at a hotel, but you’re not,” I told her. “You could stay with your sister, but you’re definitely not. You’ll stay with me where I know you’re safe.”
“Safe? I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. Besides, your list is in my phone.”
“Why?”
I frowned, looking down at her in my car. “Why what?”
“Why are you being so nice?”
I squatted down in front of her. I didn’t say a word because her question pissed me off. Did she actually think I was an asshole? I was the nice brother. Mav was all growly and huge, scaring people off with his size alone. Silas was quiet, which made people uncomfortable. Theo was always serious and intense.
I was the chill one. Laid back.
Except when I wasn’t. When someone fucked with those who couldn’t defend themselves. Maybe it was my father who brought out the trait. No, it was definitely my father who’d done that. I hated the way he’d treated me. My mom. So I knew what it was like. I started a charity for kids to find safety in sports. A safe place to be, to grow, to become strong and confident. I protected people, even a woman who was being harassed at a bar by a drunk fucker and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I gave the guy a few punches so he finally understood.
Unfortunately, the incident had been recorded by a number of bar patrons and it went viral. Dex James beating up an innocent fan watching the playoffs since we’d lost that night. Yeah, we’d lost. That was true. But the rest of it? He wasn’t innocent and he hadn’t been watching the game. I doubted the fucker even knew hockey was played on skates.
It didn’t matter. Social media had crowned me the on- and off-ice enforcer. Dex the Destroyer or some stupid name like that.
That was why I’d originally come to Hunter Valley with Theo and Silas to check on Mav. To get the hell out of Denver and away from the limelight. To pretty much hide until things settled down.
Lindy didn’t even know I was a professional hockey player, let alone know anything about that mess. It was a relief because how I was portrayed versus who I really was weren’t the same. She was–hopefully–discovering the real me because if she heard the gossip, she might be afraid to stay with me.
So back to her question–why was I being so nice? It was because I was fucking nice. Honorable. Enough so to take care of those shitheads who weren’t.
No one messed with Lindy Beckett. Even a stupid fucking tree.
Without saying anything, I grabbed the seatbelt, reached across her and clicked it into place. Then I shut the door behind her, went around and climbed in beside her.
I realized she asked because she was used to guys being dicks. Or not helpful. Or… whatever. So I looked her way and told her the truth.
“I’m not being nice. I’m taking care of what’s mine.”
She stared at me. Blinked. Stared some more. I could see her brain working, like cogs on a gear. Finally, she asked, “What?”
I couldn’t miss the thrumming pulse at the base of her neck. I wanted to lick that spot, feel it throb against my tongue. See her subtle response to me had me pushing on with the truth.
“I want you, Lindy Beckett. Since the first time I saw you.”
Her mouth dropped open, then she snapped it shut. “We… we barely know each other.”
“Mav and Bridget barely know each other,” I countered. They hadn’t even been together two weeks.
“They’re different,” she countered.
“How? Mav saw her and wanted her.”
Like I saw you and wanted you.
“So that’s it? I’m yours now? I don’t get a decision?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. It should have made her look imperious or snooty, but it only made her look hot with those tits pushed up in her top.
I learned from the slow down talk that I shouldn’t tell her exactly that, that she didn’t have a decision. That she was going to be mine. I knew it and she’d catch up.
So instead, I said, “I’m patient. You’ll want me back soon enough.” Before she could debate the point, I started the car and pulled away from the curb. “Let’s get you home so you can start working on that list.”
Home. She may have thought staying with me was a temporary arrangement, but she was wrong.
6
LINDY
* * *
Dex carried my bags inside. I followed and stopped just inside the door, setting my purse and laptop bag on the couch.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, cutting past the tiny dining table and down the short hallway to put my bags, I assumed, in the guest bedroom.
The small house was in the oldest section of town, two blocks off of Main Street. Prime real estate and even something so little was valuable. I stood in the main room, with seating and eating areas separated from the small kitchen by a butcher block topped peninsula. The house had been beautifully restored with crisp white walls and glossy refinished pine floors. It was minimally, but attractively, furnished.
Dex told me in the car Mav’s assistant found the place for him. He wanted to stay in town for a few weeks and didn’t like hotels. Besides, he didn’t want to get in the way of our siblings’ newfound togetherness. By togetherness, I meant sex. Lots of sex.
I wasn’t bitter that Bridget was getting some–okay, probably a whole hell of a lot–from Maverick James, hot billionaire who blatantly loved her after only a week. Bridget’s happiness was hard to witness, which made me feel like a bitch after all I learned she went through recently. Maybe I wasn’t bitter, but definitely jealous. I admitted it.
Bridget was twenty-two. Twenty-two!
Younger than I was when our parents died and she became more my child than little sister. And she found her forever guy in Mav. Who was thirty-seven. She got her dream guy and me? At thirty-five, I was still trying to find Mr. Right. I had the same job, the same house, the exact same life.
Now the job was boring, the house had holes in it like a block of Swiss cheese.
Dex leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his broad, muscular chest. He had on a pair of gray pants and a t-shirt with University of Minnesota across the chest. He made looking hot effortless.
“Since we abandoned our groceries at the store, how about we walk to the pizza place on Main? Their sauce rivals anything I’ve had in New York.”
“We should get the food in my fridge before it spoils,” I replied, making sure I stayed on track.
He pushed off the wall and came my way. Stalked my way. I held my ground even when I wanted to retreat from his intensity.
“That’s number nineteen or something on your list. As long as the fridge door isn’t opened, it’ll stay cool until tomorrow.”
He was probably right.
He reached out, brushed my hair back just as he had at the store. “Pizza?”
I didn’t know what he had to eat in his kitchen, especially since he only moved in a few days ago. I wasn’t going back to Van’s to pick up things to make.
“I thought you wanted to do something with squash,” I muttered, unsettled. A tree had fallen on my house. It was insane. Surreal. Although with Mr. VanMeyer’s craziness, not all that surprising.
“I do. I so do. I told you it’ll be the best thing you ever put in your mouth.” His gaze dipped to my lips.
Oh my God.
I cleared my throat because it was suddenly quite dry.
“I don’t think you’re quite ready to taste my squash. Remember, I’m patient. Pizza?”
Like he suggested… pizza. Yes. Excellent. Because I definitely wasn’t ready to taste any part of Dex, let alone his squash. Liar! “Sure.”
“Good, let’s go.”
“Um… give me a few minutes to clean up.” And maybe make myself come.
His gaze raked over me as he was clearly debating how I needed to do just that.
“You look perfect.”
I rolled my eyes because that was such a guy thing to say.
He held up his hands. “Okay, don’t believe me. Go do what you need to do.”
“Bathroom?” I asked.
He pointed over his shoulder. “First door on the right.”
I grabbed one of the bags from just inside a bedroom doorway. The blue one, which I knew had my toiletries in it. The bathroom had a glass enclosed shower with white tile that matched the flooring. A skylight brightened the space along with a frosted glass window over the toilet. While the house was small, it was updated and well-appointed. It even had a heated towel rack.
I pulled my toiletry case from my bag and grabbed everything I needed, set things on the marble topped vanity in a long line. I brushed my hair and touched up my makeup.
When I was done, I came out and found Dex sprawled on the couch reading a book. His feet were up on the coffee table that was a solid chunk of wood. I needed to take a picture of it because I could make one of those–or maybe fifty–with the tree lodged in my house.
“Did I take too long?” I asked, noticing how settled he was.
He did that gaze raking thing again as he set the book on the couch and stood. I felt seen. Too seen as if he were doing an inventory of my body.
I glanced down. “Is there a stain on my shirt?”
A slow smile crept across his face as his eyes finally met mine. “No sugar. You look perfect.” My cell chimed, prompting me to a text. “That things been going off non-stop.”
I grabbed it from my purse which was still on the couch, scrolled through the unread messages. “Other neighbors about the house. My friend Molly. And–”
“Leave them for now,” he advised. He moved around the coffee table.
“But–”
He set his hand over mine and I flicked my gaze to his. This close, I could see his eyes were more melted chocolate than the boring brown I thought. He hadn’t shaved in a day or two and I wanted to feel the soft rasp of his whiskers against my palm. Between my–
“They’ll still be there after we eat,” he added.
“They will be, along with a whole lot more.”
“Then you’ll work your way through them then. No one expects you to go hungry to get back to them.”
“But–”
“Sugar, were you on the debate team in school?”
“High school.”
“Thought so.”
I pursed my lips, but didn’t say anything else, which made his mouth twitch with clear amusement. I huffed.
He held the front door open for me as I stuck the cell back in my purse and slung it over my shoulder. I was hungry and people could wait.
“You sure you don’t have something else to do?” I asked as he locked the door. Running into me at the grocery store shouldn’t turn into the rest of his day. “I mean, you said you’re here on vacation.”
“Take worrying about me off your list. I’m good. I’m right where I want to be. Bridget told me you’re an accountant,” he said, switching topics as we went down the sidewalk, taking a turn toward Main. It was a gorgeous day, and the downtown area was busy. A couple riding bikes rolled past.
“That’s right. I work for a local firm. I’ve been there for twelve years.”
God, that made me sound really boring. And old. Dex had been in high school twelve years ago.
“There must be a big demand for tax work around here.”
We made it quickly to the historic downtown area and walked side by side past the shops. Turning to look up at him, I asked, “Oh?”
“You work lots of hours. You took your laptop to Denver last week and had to work. You said you had more tonight. You even put it at the top of your list.”
I licked my lips. Dex was the last person I wanted to tell that I wasn’t doing accounting all that time, but instead writing. It was my secret. My… thing that made me happy. That gave me hope that I could finally become a successful author. The career I put on hold to raise Bridget.
I didn’t want him to laugh at me if he learned the truth. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he thought it a joke, that my dream job was writing sex. That because of that I was pervy. That I was weird.
I couldn’t handle any of that.
“Yup, lots of work. After we eat, I need to respond to those texts. Bridget will need to know about the house. Then I have a few hours of work to do,” I added, hoping I could somehow get a chapter written. I coordinated with an editor to read and proof my book for typos and grammar issues in two weeks. I could feel the pressure of getting it finished.
A woman with a double-wide stroller came our way and Dex took my hand and pulled me toward the buildings to let her by.
“Dex,” I said, surprised by his quick move, pulling me off balance.
He turned me into the picture window of a restaurant that was only open for breakfast and lunch. His hands rested on the glass on either side of my head.
I blinked up at him. “What are you–”
“Shh,” he said, resting a finger over my lips. His eyes focused on the action.
“I’m not going to tell you to slow down or calm down, but woman, the list can wait. Your boss will understand.” His voice was deep and rumbly, and I felt controlled, but oddly protected.
He pulled his finger away.
“That may be so, but it’s all in my head,” I told him. “I can’t stop thinking about–”
He put his finger over my lip again.
“I know what the problem is,” he said.
I frowned and grabbed his wrist to take his hand away. He was warm and I felt his strength even in his forearm. “That my house has a few extra holes in it?”
He shook his head.
“That I have too much to do?”
He continued to shake his head.
“What then?”
“You need someone to make you forget that list. And your name.”
“I don’t need–”
“Yes, you do.”
Then he kissed me.
Holy shit, Dex was kissing me. His mouth on mine wasn’t anything like the playful, easygoing man I knew. No, this was a Dex that took what he wanted. He’d been patient, but no longer. I gasped in surprise, and he took advantage, angling his head and stroking his tongue to meet mine with long licks. Big hands cupped my face, held me where he wanted the kiss to go.
I lost track of time. Of where we were.
“Fuck, sugar. Just as sweet as I imagined.”
After a moment I opened my eyes and stared up at him wondering why he stopped. Oh yeah, Main Street. People.
He kissed my forehead and fuck me, if that wasn’t hot in itself.
“While I want to eat you for dinner, come on.” He took my hand and led me down the block. We followed the aroma of garlic to the pizza restaurant. I was in a kiss-fueled daze.
My lips tingled and my pussy ached to be eaten like he wanted.
Dex didn’t let go of my hand as he held the door for me and while we stood at the counter to order. There was a large menu on the wall over the industrial oven, but I didn’t need to look at it. It was a great pizza place and I got takeout often enough to know what I liked.
“Hi Otis,” I said to the owner. He was sliding a pizza into a to-go box, closing the lid and handing it off to one of the teenagers who did bike deliveries for him during summer break.
Otis turned with a smile, but it slipped when he saw me. “Lindy. Man, I heard about your house. I’m glad you’re okay.”
He came over to stand behind the counter right in front of us.
Dex gave my hand a squeeze. I wasn’t sure if it was in comfort or because he didn’t like a guy talking to me. He’d made that obvious with Gant from the fire crew.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I told Otis. He was the first in a long line of people I was going to have to tell, so I needed to work on what I’d say. “The insurance company’s on it.”
They weren’t. Not yet, but they would. I’d get it figured out, just like I did everything else.
I wished the fixes could move as quickly as the news about what happened spread across Hunter Valley. I hadn’t called Bridget yet. I didn’t want to think of what she and Mav were up to where they didn’t know.
“Good.” Otis was a few years younger than me, but I knew him because his sister was my yoga instructor. Her studio was on the second floor of this old building.
His gaze shifted from me to Dex, who stood to my right.
“This is Dex. Bridget’s boyfriend’s bro–”
“Wow. Yeah. I know who Dex is.” Otis reached out his hand for Dex to shake and introduced himself.
