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“Sorry, I must have been drying my hair.”
“Looks nice,” he said, and I smiled, pleased by the simple compliment.
I tightened my grip on the mug and tried to ignore how turned on I was. It was a difficult thing to do when Brax was wearing black cargo shorts and a black tank top that clung to his impressive pecs and rock-hard abdomen, where a six-pack was defined against the tight fabric.
“Just a heads up, a Dumpster is going to be delivered by noon.” Brax nodded toward the front. “I’ve requested for it to be set in the driveway, furthest away from the door.”
“That’s fine.” I tried my best to focus on the task at hand. “What’s on the schedule today?”
“Demo. I thought you’d like it. I even brought an extra sledgehammer.”
“Sweet,” I said, savoring the thought of being able to take out my aggression on the house.
“We’ll move the fridge out onto the back patio, so if you could get busy unloading the items, we’ll do that.”
“That’s easy,” I said, opening the door and removing the gallon of milk and a bottle of ketchup and mustard. “I’ve been eating at my folks since I arrived.” I stopped short, opened the freezer, and grabbed the box of corndogs. “Okay, that’s it.”
He smirked, but refrained from commenting about my lack of food. “What about paint samples? Did you get a chance to drop by the hardware store yesterday afternoon?”
Paint had been the one item he hadn’t held my hand through, and I had stood in front of the paint section at the hardware store for thirty minutes, picking out every shade of beige under the sun. I tried to keep the neutral color palate in mind and focused on three shades.
“Try it on the wall, then if you’re satisfied, commit to the gallon, or perhaps even a five gallon can if you’re wanting to use the same color in any of the other rooms.”
He’s too young for you, Amanda, my conscience all but screamed as visions of my dream came back to me—particularly where he’d stroked his long, thick cock with those long-fingered, callused hands. Heat raced up my neck, making my cheeks hot.
My gaze shifted down over his chest and settled in the vicinity of his crotch.
I released the breath and to my horror, it sounded like a sigh, which I quickly coughed to cover.
“Could I get a cup of coffee?” he asked, causing me to rip my gaze back to his. “I could smell it from outside.”
God, I’d been checking out his package, and he’d caught me right in the act. How humiliating!
“Sure,” I said, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling it with the too-strong coffee. Seriously, I needed to pull it together.
“Hey, are you going to sit and talk all day, or am I gonna get some help here?” Toby shouted from the back porch, and for once I was grateful for the interruption.
Brax shook his head. “Listen to him. You’d think I was on his payroll.”
Laughing nervously, I handed him the coffee, hoping he didn’t notice my trembling hand. “He’s always been a bit impatient.”
“I’ll be right out,” Brax called over his shoulder. “I’m lucky to have him during the demolition stage. Two hands are better than one. Well, in this case, three sets of hands are better than one.”
I leaned back against the counter. He stared at me for a heart-stopping moment, saying nothing, just staring, and then he walked toward me slowly. My heart pounded with every step that brought him closer. His clean, manly scent permeated my senses and I actually took a step back before I realized I had nowhere else to go.
He reached out, his arm rubbing against mine as he leaned over me. Man, he smelled delicious, his scent and his masculine energy surrounding me. A second later he stepped back, an apple in his hand. “Do you mind? I didn’t get breakfast.”
My throat was so tight; all I could do was nod.
There was a light in his eyes that made me wonder if he knew exactly what he was doing. That he wanted to make me squirm. In the past few days, we’d gotten closer. Our conversations were easy and yet never too personal. It had been more about the different things we liked or didn’t like and nothing about our past relationships. Thank God for that.
