“It’s about damn time! Oh, that sweet boy. Finally.”
And that was that.
16
Rowan was going to pay for that video. Hugh had been on the eighth hole, bantering with six other men, drinking and enjoying the sunshine, when his phone dinged. As soon as he saw it was Rowan, he fumbled his club, almost dropped his drink, and literally tripped over his own damn feet as he quickly moved a distance away from the group.
When he saw it was a video, he started to sweat. He found his golf cart, thankfully the furthest cart away, and leaned on its side. Before he pressed play, he turned the volume up.
“Christ,” Hugh cursed. She’d teased him about forgetting to take a picture for him this morning. She hadn’t lied. She’d taken a video. Hugh was mesmerized, watching himself work over her breasts, sucking and kneading and biting.
“Oh God,” Hugh muttered, feeling his shorts become uncomfortably tight. She was moaning and calling his name. The hand not holding her phone was pressing the back of his head tighter against her chest, her nails scratching his scalp. The camera tilted just enough once to catch Rowan, her head thrown back. “So good, Hugh,” she’d moaned.
He heard himself tell Rowan he could play with her tits all day and her replying, “God, babe, I want you too.” He would be fifty-four this year, and he knew, with absolute certainty, that there was no other woman who could make him feel the level of intensity that Rowan Byrne inspired.
He watched it four more times. A mistake. It was almost his turn to tee off, and there would be no mistaking his conceal and carry erection. He had to think of something else. Any fucking thing else. He sent a quick text to Rowan.
You won’t know when, you won’t know how, but I will pay you back.
Don’t put too much thought into it. We all can’t be winners. Plus, I’m having dinner with your mom and Diana again tonight. XOXO
Maybe I should join you for dinner. I can think of a lot of things a person can do under a table.
I would love for you to make me come…I mean, I’d love for you to come. Diana would enjoy catching up too.
You’re playing with fire.
I hope I don’t get burned. My nipples are already soooooo sensitive.
Hugh groaned. He knew when he was beaten. For now. Damn that woman! He quickly pulled up his national news app, which thankfully had the intended effect of shrinking certain appendages so he could finish the rest of the holes. He’d lost all interest in golfing, and unfortunately, they’d be at it several more hours.
Hugh smiled as he rejoined the group while mentally reviewing his best options to torture Rowan later. She shouldn’t have told him about her dinner plans tonight. He might not want to sit down with Diana Gaines—Rowan knew very well he wouldn’t volunteer himself to endure the creature’s bad attitude—but he wouldn’t mind checking in. After all, Hugh was capable of making a video too.
It was Monday morning,and Rowan had just finished meeting with the boutique’s main contractor, Fern Rogers. Fern was a powerhouse in Oklahoma known for being honest and hardworking. Her crew was top-notch. The work they’d gotten done over the weekend was crazy, and she planned on recommending them for any future Tulsa clients. Fern had taken Rowan’s sketches and vision and could run with them with little supervision.
Rowan was sitting at the temporary desk she’d set up in the store. It was easier to have a dedicated space on-site to keep track of orders and scheduling. Her fingers kept hovering over the keyboard. After fifteen minutes of staring at the screen, her to-do list had nothing but a number one. Damn, Hugh!
His payback for sending him that video had come back to bite her in the ass. Dinner with Diana and Matilda had been a true test of patience last night. She’d only sat down at the table, and Diana’s chef had placed a beautiful garden salad in front of her when her phone had dinged. Rowan silenced it quickly. Ringing phones at the dinner table was a no-no with both older women. She’d seen Hugh’s name as she was sitting it back down and couldn’t resist clicking on it.
I just watched your video again. Going to need another shower.
Since Diana had been engaged in a lengthy story about her inept dry cleaner, Rowan sent a reply.Three words. Carpal tunnel syndrome.Smirking, she’d dropped the phone in her lap.
Dinner was delicious as usual: Tuscan butter salmon with a side of grilled Brussels sprouts and broccoli—one of Rowan’sfavorite meals. She’d just taken her first spoonful of lemon mousse when her phone vibrated in her lap. In what Rowan hoped had been a casual move, she'd propped the phone against the heavy crystal dish of mousse where the two older women couldn't see it before she opened the text.
It was a video. Sweat started prickling her brow as she’d debated on whether or not to push play. She’d at least had the forethought to turn her volume off. And oh God, just remembering Hugh stepping out of his shower, rubbing his big body with a fluffy white towel had Rowan panting. Thank goodness her desk was tucked away in a back corner.
The towel had been irritatingly large and long, covering the X-rated bits as he’d dried his body, muscles twisting and flexing. Rowan sipped her morning lemon water, her throat suddenly parched. A text had come in just as the video ended.Have you decided where you want your next kiss?
Purposefully misunderstanding, Rowan had replied,Stop by the boutique tomorrow, you can kiss me there.
The boutique’s owner was due to arrive in an hour, and Rowan believed she would flip out when she saw how close her shop was to being completed. Soon, she could start having her stock delivered. The coffee bar was going to be installed tomorrow. She was definitely checking more off than adding to her new checklist. She’d met with the lighting contractor as soon as she’d gotten in this morning before Fern. Mr. Craig’s people had also worked the weekend and only had one chandelier to hang that morning.
Rowan finally engaged her brain again and got her work done. It was satisfying that her client’s reaction to the progress was just as ecstatic as Rowan knew it’d be. It was after lunch when she and Angela finished going over the week’s schedule.
“Is the cleaning crew still scheduled for tomorrow?”
“Yes. I got the confirmation email last night.”
