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Gen didn't blame them. He wasn't beefcake hunky, but the direct gaze, the lean strength of his body, the compelling face and eyes, made a nice package. She remembered the give of his mouth beneath her fingertips, could easily imagine his tongue teasing her fingertips, those brown eyes studying her, gauging what would give her pleasure.
If Noah was "with" Lyda, not just an employee, did that mean he was like Brendan, a submissive? Did he "belong" to Lyda? As Gen imagined having someone like him at her command, submitting to anything she desired, her knees weakened a little. She'd never given a lot of thought to tying a man up. She'd barely gotten out of missionary position with the two mistakes she'd married, both of them into the traditional male-on-top scenario.
She made a face at herself. For all she knew, Noah just worked for Lyda, and Lyda was merely a very imperious person, neither one of them part of the BDSM lifestyle. Best not to let her imagination run away with her, but there was no harm in it. The racetrack was in the privacy of her mind.
When her name caught her attention, she tuned into the conversation between Marguerite and her visitor. The context put a hard brake on her thoughts, both feet hitting them with a what the hell?
"Gen has purchased tile for her kitchen, but hasn't yet hired someone to do the labor," Marguerite was saying. "She could use an extra pair of hands to do that."
Marguerite glanced her way. "Gen, Lyda is looking for somewhere for Noah to stay for the weekend. He has excellent handyman skills. Would you be interested in his labor in return for giving him room and board?"
If M was making the suggestion, she knew enough about Noah that he could be trusted in Gen's home.
Which left Gen more worried about whether she could be trusted.
She glanced his way. The intent quality to his expression clogged her breath in her throat.
"He refuses to allow me to pay for his accommodations elsewhere," Lyda was saying to Marguerite. "He can be stubborn about that. He prefers to pay his own way. Besides the renovating, he'll do whatever maintenance or housekeeping chores are needed while he's there. Laundry, cleaning, yard mowing. No task too big or small."
"Sounds like I may not want to give him up." Gen meant it as a joke, but the way Lyda's gaze turned to her strangled Gen's nervous half chuckle.
"He has that effect. I'll be having some college friends visiting, but it's a girls' weekend. No boys allowed. He could crash at a friend's house, but I prefer making his arrangements for him, so I know where he is, and that he's properly occupied."
Marguerite and Lyda exchanged a cryptic glance at that. Gen turned her attention to Noah, wanting to know his reaction to such an audacious statement. His gaze was fixed on Lyda. In it she recognized a hint of what she'd felt when Lyda had gripped her hair so hard. Hunger. The kind that moved low in the belly, that had to do with sex, with longing, with a question waiting to be answered.
When Lyda's glance flickered toward him, Noah's attention dropped to the floor, so deliberately Gen felt the jolt. Okay, her Nancy Drew skills were on target. But she didn't know anything about this kind of thing. Was she supposed to treat him the way Lyda would? No, of course not. He'd just be a house guest helping her out with the kitchen.
"Gen?" Marguerite was asking for a decision. "Would you like Noah's help? I guarantee he'll be helpful and as nonintrusive as you wish. But there's no obligation at all on your part. He can stay with Tyler and me."
Which would make more sense, really. Gen's entire house was the size of Marguerite and Tyler's living room. But Marguerite also knew that Gen's funds were limited, and she really did want to get the kitchen finished...
"No. I'd appreciate the help." She heard the words exit her mouth. Noah's expression warmed, and another wave of nervousness had her looking away.
"When you don't have need of him, just send him to his room," Lyda said. A spark in Noah's eyes, which Lyda answered with one in her own gaze, told Gen he knew when his chain was being yanked. It was amusing...and intriguing.
"I'm sure that won't be a problem." Gen said. "Thank you, Ms. Coltrane. And thank you, Noah." Marguerite gave Lyda a significant look, tapping her fingers on the table cloth. It was a gesture Lyda answered with an irritated glance, but then she met Gen's gaze. "I apologize for the presumption earlier. I wasn't trying to play with your head."
"Yes you were," Marguerite said. Lyda shot her a cool look and rose.
"If you don't want your toys played with, Marguerite, don't leave them unattended." She glanced at Gen. "You should clean up those roots. You're a beautiful woman. You need to remind yourself of it. Noah is good for that as well."
At that outrageous comment, she moved toward the door. Pausing by Noah, Lyda put her hand on his shoulder. She murmured to him and he answered in the same quiet tone. Giving him a searching look, she leaned down, brushed his mouth with her own, holding the kiss. Noah kept both hands on his knees, though it was obvious by the way he met the kiss full on, he wanted to do more.
"Be good. Else you'll wish you could stay away from me for far longer than a weekend."
His gaze burned into her face. "I'd never wish that."
She stroked his face, a brief touch. A glance her way told Gen Lyda had intended her to hear that last exchange, regardless of whether the other customers did. Gen noticed Marguerite's jaw tighten. Then Lyda left, the screen door creaking behind her. As she crossed the porch of the nineteenth-century house Marguerite had converted into her business, Gen shifted to see her climb into a pickup with the nursery logo.
"She's leaving him here now?" Was she supposed to let him sit in the corner all day, like a patient pet?
"He has a ride picking him up for his class at the college," Marguerite explained, rising and coming around the counter. "They'll bring him back in time to go home with you at the end of the work day."
"Oh. Well I haven't..." The guestroom was clean, of course, because no one had been in it for a while, but it was all pretty sudden.
Marguerite laid a hand on top of hers. She wasn't inclined to casual affection, so Gen took it for a deliberate reassurance. "I apologize on Lyda's behalf. She can be...unpredictable."
She suspected Marguerite had some other problems with her, but the matter right now was what problems she'd presented for Gen. Or problematic opportunities.
