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I narrowed my eyes. "I am."
"So, you could sleep with me and then never talk to me again?" I watched as she blew another strand of hair away from her face. The way she pursed her lips like that made my crotch tighten.
"Course. Wouldn't bother me a bit."
"Didn't have you pegged as a player," she said. Standing there, with her bare midriff and short pants, she was like sex personified. It was so hard to resist when I could tell she was offering herself up to me on a silver platter.
"I guess you don’t know me so well.”
She laughed, the sound light and teasing. "I guess." There was a shift in her tone. "Cole, when you sprung your speech on me you kind of took the wind out of my sails. I had a whole spiel prepared myself."
"Damn. Sorry, El. What did you want to say?"
She sighed. "I wanted to say thank you. I'm grateful to you for doing this for me. I know that you’re busy, and I know that, well, we kissed, which makes it harder. But it means a lot to me. Without you, I don't know how I'd be doing this."
"Well, you could sell as-is, but you’d lose money."
"After I quit my job in New York, I worried I might have to come back here forever. You helping me with this refurb has given me a lifeline."
"Happy to help. Wait, you quit your job? What happened there?"
"Ah." She fidgeted, her gaze dropping to her hands. "My unfriendly boss got a little too friendly. Heavily implied I could fast-track my way onto the pastry team if I agreed to some 'private lessons' at his place. And by private lessons, I'm pretty sure he meant. . ." She trailed off, swallowing hard.
"Jesus, Elara," I muttered, a protective rage surging through me. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."
"Thanks," she said softly, offering me a small smile. "I got my revenge, at least."
"Oh?"
"I pelted a cream-filled dessert at his crotch," she revealed, her eyes shining with mischief.
I burst out laughing, unable to help myself. "You literally made him cream his pants?"
Elara dissolved into giggles right along with me, the tension between us evaporating for a blessed moment. Our eyes locked, and suddenly, the distance separating us felt more like inches than feet.
Oh shit, my heart was hammering in my chest. Were we going to kiss again?
Don’t be a fool, Cole.
I forced myself to look away, focusing on the peeling wallpaper once more. We had work to do, and I wasn't about to let my feelings for Elara—whatever the hell they were—get in the way of that.
Mumbling some flimsy excuse, I beat a hasty retreat, my heart still galloping in my chest. I needed to put some space between us before we crossed a line we couldn't walk back.
As I ripped up the lino, I tried not to think of Elara in the steamy office room. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw her flushed cheeks and sweat-slicked skin. I could almost feel the heat emanating from her, and it did nothing to help me concentrate on the task at hand.
Eventually, I found my rhythm, losing myself again in mindless physical labor. As I worked, I reminisced. As a teenager, my brothers and I had seen it as a rite of passage to swing by the bar, trying to con Patrick into serving us before we hit the legal drinking age. We did it often, and he'd always give us the boot with a good-natured laugh and a wink.
What sort of store might open up here when we were done? Hopefully, another bar, or at least a social space. The town had been feeling uncomfortably full recently, as both the tourist and resident population ballooned. We needed more communal places for folks to gather. Not just hotels and tourist stores. Proper venues that breathed life and blood into the town. Still, it was up to Elara.
It was another hour or so before I heard a call from the office. "Hey, Cole! Could you give me a hand real quick?" At least she hadn’t screamed this time.
When I entered the room, I felt like I'd been hit by a steam train. Even with the window open, the air was thick with steam, making it difficult to breathe. And standing there in the middle of it all was Elara. She looked like some kind of goddess, designed specifically to turn me on. Her clothes were clinging to her curves, soaked through with sweat, her emerald eyes sultry, her lips moist.
"Uh, what do you need?" I managed to choke out, trying to compose myself despite the all-consuming desire roaring through my veins.
"I can't quite reach the wallpaper above the door," she explained, sucking her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she gestured to the scrap of paper. "Can you help me?"
"Of course," I replied, doing my best to ignore the lust in her eyes as I hoisted the steamer up high enough for her to scrape away the final remnants of the old design.
