AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She reached for them, but I took a step back, and pulled them out of her firm grasp. She was strong, another trait that made her sexy. Fuck my life!
“It’s cool. It’s no problem at all. I don’t want you to break a sweat unnecessarily. It’s hot enough as it is.” A reluctant grin flickered across her face. Which softened her delicate features.
***
“Get whatever you want,” I said as I held my sports drink. I wished I’d given Bethany an ice-cold bottle of water. I only had the warm twelve-pack in the backseat.
She gave me a weak smile. “No, thanks. I still have the bottle of water you gave me in the car,” she replied, as if it was a hardship on my part to offer her some cool liquid replenishment.
“Are there any snacks you want?”
Two women and three children came into the store just as it looked like Bethany was going to get something. It was early, and for some reason, I didn’t think she’d had anything to eat.
“I’ll get something later.” Ducking her head, Bethany’s hair covered her face as it had when she’d come out of her house, and she slid her gaze to the counter. The older women were sending Bethany condemnatory glares.
I raised my brow to them and they looked away and began whispering. This was like some high school shit—from grown women. They should’ve known better.
Bethany took her wallet from her tote. “I said I was paying for the gas. And whatever else you want.”
For a few minutes, we were having a stand-off, a staring contest, and it made my blood boil. She looked so damn fine that I’d almost forgotten what we were disagreeing about.
I advanced toward the cash register and Bethany conceded. I paid for the gas and my sports drink. One of the women loudly whispered Bethany’s name and I twirled around with my purchases in hand, headed in their direction. Gently, Bethany tugged my shirtsleeve and I cocked my head to the side. The sliver of insecurity in her nerves was perceptible, and as a result, I complied with her unspoken request to back down.
Back in the car, Bethany acted like she hadn’t been frazzled at the gas station.
“What’re you studying?” I asked after some time had passed.
Bethany gathered what looked like half a ream of paper into two piles on those thick and shapely thighs. Man, every inch of her was appealing. Reminding myself that Pierce trusted me and didn’t think of me as some horny knucklehead, I tried to think about the swim I wanted to get in today. Beating off didn’t do anything for me lately. Swimming had alleviated my primitive needs these days. It hadn’t failed me. I needed to do something to stop thinking about touching her and deal with my body’s response to her—quick.
She wasn’t flaunting what she had been so adequately blessed with. And there was nothing she should hide. She had to be burning up in her blouse and in the thick material of her slacks. If it were up to me, her blouse wouldn’t be buttoned all the way to the top. On second thought, if I had it my way she’d be wearing the thinnest and clingiest top, with a good dip in the front. She’d be in a tight skirt that would mold to her backside. Man, I bet her legs felt like silk.
A hard to read expression started over Bethany’s face. She steepled her fingers on the papers on her lap. I really wanted to know what she was thinking. She didn’t know me from a hole in the wall, but she was tense. Too tense. Had it been those people who so rudely interrupted our moment at the gas station? What was up with that, anyway? Even the young cashier girl had connived with those other people to try to piss Bethany off. Which only made me mad. No words had been voiced on the cashier’s part. Just that silent challenge from them all to Bethany, and I didn’t know how she rose above it in spite of her evident displeasure. Mulling over it, I’d noticed that Bethany had been unnerved when she left her house. It was a good thing that she was going to have a vacation, or a reprieve from all that negativity. Paloma’s Edge was just the place for her to unwind. Unlike some of the vacationers I’ve met, she probably deserved to have a vacation more than they did.
“The history of the Paloma Hotel. A brief biography on Anton Pruitt and his companies,” she finally answered.
I risked a glance in her direction. She was reading those papers like it was some gossip magazine. Mr. Pruitt was a great guy and a respected entrepreneur, but all of that information couldn’t have been intriguing. This was her uncle. Did she really need to research her uncle in order to know him? No wonder why he’d been contrite when Mrs. Pruitt had brought Bethany up during dinner. He mustn’t have kept in touch with her over the years in any way.
“Why’re you doing all that?”
“Because I am applying for a job at the Paloma Hotel.”
***
I took off my damp clothes, tossed them in the hamper, and jumped into my swim trunks again when I heard a soft knock on the door. It could only be one person. I mimicked her knock and she made an impatient but amused sound. The wooden door swung open and Nancy, the Pruitt family housekeeper, raised her brows at me meaningfully. Pierce had told me that Nancy had been their babysitter since they were infants. When he and Cassidy became older, Nancy accepted the position as a live-in housekeeper. Nancy liked things to be done her way, and as much as she claimed that I was the bane of her existence, I knew she didn’t mean it.
I blocked her path to my hamper. She lifted her arm to look at her watch. She wore a pressed shirt, trouser pants, and leather shoes. No matter what she was doing, she always looked immaculate. Her dark reddish-brown hair was in a bun that only a violent storm could mess up. Pierce had told me that her hair reached her thighs, and that he’d pulled on it when he’d been little. He liked women with long hair, so that wasn’t a surprise.
She feigned anger. “I could’ve been downstairs in the washing room by now with your clothes.”
“I’ve been doing my laundry when I can,” I pointed out.
“Yes,” she said, “the least I could do for you is your laundry since you clean this room. Isn’t it your day off today?”
“And that’s what my days off are for: to do my chores. You have enough to do with this house.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you insinuating that I’m overwhelmed with my responsibilities?”
“Never.”
