Groaning, he yanked the cord for the vacuum out of the wall.
He’d been in a state since Mazey had left yesterday.
Not even twenty-four hours had passed—hell, he hadn’t made it twelve—before he’d started to go crazy and scrubbed every surface in the house.
Rylan had to admit the place looked great.
Even with furniture that dated back to the last century.
None of his grandmother’s stuff suited his house. He’d have to decide what to do about that. Even though he didn’t want to make those decisions on his own.
With another groan, he dragged the vacuum toward the utility room off the kitchen. He had just enough time to—
The doorbell chime sounded through the house.
“Fuck.” He spun around and stared through the wall at the front door. “Of course, she’d be early.”
Glancing down, he shook his head. She’d have to take him as he was. No way around it now. He couldn’t leave her standing on his doorstep until he cleaned up. On the way to the door, he was reminded of the first time he’d been to Mazey’s house and the state he’d found her in.
The memory made him grin, so when he opened the door, his mouth was stretched wide, and he let out a chuckle when Mazey eyed him strangely.
“You’re either really happy to see me or . . .” She took in the length of him, her gaze skipping over his sweat-soaked body in a visceral caress. “What the hell have you been doing?”
“Cleaning.”
“What? The pool you don’t have? You’re soaked.” Her nose scrunched up. “And that’s not water.”
“Nope. Not water. But speaking of, do you need help bringing anything in? I can give you a hand before I jump in the shower.”
“Oh no.” Waving her hand in front of her, she urged him back. “You go clean up. You’re not touching my pies smelling like a locker room.”
He grinned. Saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
Laughing, Mazey stepped inside. “Go on. I’ve got this”—this being a small wagon loaded with what had to be her pies although he couldn’t smell them—“and I’ll get started on the other stuff while you shower.”
“I already went out for ice and filled the coolers with it. I’ll put the drinks in after I shower,” Rylan told her as he headed for the stairs. “I’ll be five minutes, tops.”
“Take your time. It’s barely nine, and no one is going to arrive before noon.”
True. These monthly barbecues were a late lunch early dinner kind of thing. He loved them. This would be his eighth. Grayson had dragged him to the first one the day after he’d arrived in Sunnyville, and Rylan had to admit the once a month get-togethers were one of the best parts of being here. And he was really looking forward to hosting his first one.
The woman currently banging around in his kitchen—what the hell was she doing down there?—was another highlight.
She just might prove to be the best part of his move.
With a smile on his face, he stripped out of his sweaty clothes and jumped in the shower. Any thought of lingering to rid himself of the sexual tension Mazey evoked was quickly squashed by his need to get downstairs, back to her. Spending the next few hours with her would decide how he’d move forward.
After she’d left yesterday, he thought he’d seen longing in her gaze. He hadn’t a clue if it was longing for him or his house because once they’d finished that first beer, he’d finally convinced her to let him show her around, and he knew he’d seen longing then. And pleasure.
She really liked his house.
And he knew why that pleased him. It meant if—no,when— when they moved their relationship to a deeper level, and he really, really wanted to move it deeper, she’d be happy here.
In this house built for a family.
Rinsing off, Rylan thought about what it would be like for Mazey to live here. Would this be a regular day for them? Her in the kitchen, him showering off sweat from chores.
He grinned.
