Page 13 of Working For Her Curves

His heart slams against mine as we lie chest to chest, his breath hot and wet on my neck. I press my face into his shoulder and breathe in his sweat and the scent of us mingled together, and I don’t want to move. I want to be pinned to this mattress under this man until the room stops spinning.

He pulls me with him as he rolls onto his side—one arm underneath me, the other draped across my hip, his thumb finding the curve where my waist rounds into my thigh and drawing a slow line back and forth. Over and over.

“I should tell you something,” he says, a slow smile spreading across his mouth.

“If it’s about intake logs, I’m going to physically injure you.”

Another laugh. His callused fingers push my hair back from my face, careful against my temple. I look up at him. The blinds are throwing thin streaks of light across his jaw and throat, and his face is open and unguarded.

“I was going to say you are the most incredible, most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.”

“Oh,” I whisper. That’s not what I expected, but the intimacy of it feels good and right.

I could really get used to this.

CHAPTER 7

MARTY

The phase two section is nothing but ground stakes and flagging tape, foundation markers in a grid across bare dirt with the creek running fifty yards south. I’ve been standing in the middle of it for twenty minutes with my hands shoved in my pockets, and the only thing in my head is Poppy—her standing in my doorway this morning with her shoes in her hand and the sun barely up, smiling at me before she left.

I’m going to ask her to stay. Today.

“You’re brooding.”

Noah drops onto an overturned bucket with his hard hat tipped back.

“I’m not brooding.”

“You’re standing in an empty foundation staring at mountains, which is the definition of brooding.”

“Go away, Noah.”

“Can’t.” He pulls a water bottle from his belt. “You’ve been out here since we clocked in, and even Adam is worried about how you’re doing.”

“Adam can mind his own business.”

“He sent me to check.” Noah caps the bottle and waits, and the silence stretches between us.

“I want to stay.” I say the words fast before I can change my mind. “Past the season. For real.”

“In Forge Creek?” He doesn’t react, but I know I have his attention.

“Yeah. The work’s good, and there’s plenty of it. The town’s good.” My boot grinds a foundation stake deeper into the dirt. “I can see a life here.”

“That’s a big deal for the guy who told me he doesn’t put down roots.” He’s watching me closely, for once not pushing me to talk before I’m ready.

“I know what I said.”

“So what changed?”

“Poppy.” I say her name, and knowing that she’s the one hits me like a two-by-four across the chest. I can already see a life here, with her. All of it fits. I can see building her dream house on one of those lots off Forge Creek Road. I can see her laptop open on the kitchen table and her hair up and her reading me numbers I don’t care about while I cook dinner. I can see it so clearly it scares me, and for once the fear of making myself vulnerable to a woman isn’t making me want to run.

“Yeah, I figured.” Noah’s mouth twitches. “You’ve had it bad since she showed up. Whole crew can see it.”

“Thanks. That’s helpful.”

“Just saying.” He leans back on the bucket. “So what’s the problem? You want to stay, she’s here—seems straightforward.”