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His muscles ached, but it was a good ache. It was the kind of ache that came with a full day of hard labor. His two hands, his back, his legs, his strength helped built four walls of a small cottage where a family, someday soon, would spend their summer vacation. They’d pull up their jammed-packed family van, spill out with wide eyes and road trip cramps, and they’d see their vacation home for the first time. A beach house where they will create family memories that will last them a lifetime.
Good memories.
Happy memories.
Memories that would make them smile years from now, when their lives got difficult and they needed that sliver of joy to push them through it.
Those are the types of memories he was building with Harris Construction. They were building houses, yes, but AJ knew they were doing more than that.
He was gifting families with opportunities he never had.
Henri Dupree on a family vacation with his wife and kids? Fuck that. The man spent enough time gallivanting across the Mediterranean with French models, Brazilian songstresses, and even the occasional waitress…or five. He was too busy getting his dick wet on his own to ever take his family on a vacation.
Not that AJ gave a damn about that. But he had wished for more for his sister. For his mother, who left him a sizable inheritance when she died. Not to mention the billionaire paternal grandfather who loved to spoil his only two grandchildren with monthly allowances they couldn’t even begin to spend. No one knew that AJ and Sally were wealthy. They both abjectly hated that their well spring was paid for by their mother’s misery and suicide. And their grandfather’s money, while not tainted, was still shadowed by the last name Dupree. So, rather than use that money to fund a lifestyle he despised, he was paying it forward through funding charities for lower class families who couldn’t afford the costs of a family vacation. Some of those funds went into building cottages like the one he built that day. Some of the funds went to a balloon account that the family could use for trip expenses like fuel, food, and activities.
Since creating the charity, Building Memories, AJ and Harris Construction, LLC. had built or remodeled fifteen small beach cottages in Jackson Key, Tampa, Miami, Clearwater, and New Port Richey. In total, Building Memories had funded the lifelong memories of more than two hundred families.
Damn, it felt good to have a purpose. One that helped to clear the muck and miasma that came with his DNA.
By blood, he was a Dupree, something he couldn’t scrub from his body no matter how many times he made himself bleed with the effort. By purpose and deed, he was a Mendez. Something he was proud of.
Ugh. Too deep for the end of a long day.
At least he wasn’t thinking about that kiss. Or the woman who’d made him harder than he’d ever been in his life. Her soft moans of pleasure had hit him right in the dick, driving him mad with the need to strip her bare right in her office, and feed his throbbing cock into her wet pussy.
Dammit! Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her. And he shouldn’t be. But no matter how many times he told himself she was off-limits, his employee, and that he was dedicated to Swan—even if they’d never actually met—he couldn’t shake the feeling that Maeve Thomas was someone special.
It just wouldn’t be to him. It couldn’t be.
Sighing, AJ started his truck, eager to get home, soak his muscles in a hot shower, and have a cold beer or two. Nearing seven o’clock, the streets of Jackson Key were just starting to empty out of work day traffic. The cars moving down the main drag were headed out for dinner, drinks, or heading home from the beach.
Turning onto Station Street, headed toward his condo, something on the opposite side of the road caught his attention.
A silver sedan with rusty wheel wells, one of which was missing a tire.
Beside the crippled car was the one woman he’d been trying to avoid all day.
Maeve was staring down at a tire on its side on the road. Her hands were planted on her ample hips, which were being hugged by a skirt that caressed her hips and thighs, and cupped her ass just right.
Fuck!
Where had all her formless beige clothes go?
Slowing to pull up behind her, AJ cursed his luck. He couldn’t just leave her there; she needed help, and he was more than capable of changing a tire.
Jumping from his truck, he strode to her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, her attention pinned to the empty wheel well. He could see wisps of her blonde hair clinging to her forehead and cheeks. It been sweltering that day, which was somewhat strange for Florida in the fall, and Maeve was wearing clothing more suitable to an air-conditioned office than to the side of a road. Her long-sleeved teal blouse cupped her large tits, but fluttered loosely around her belly. He couldn’t imagine how warm was she wearing the long skirt and the blouse, but it couldn’t be comfortable.
So, invite her to remove it all, piece by piece, until she’s naked, bared to you so you can look your fill.
No! Get your fucking head on straight! “Hey, what happened?”
Squeaking, her hand flying to her chest, and said chest heaving, Maeve spun toward him, her ocean eyes large and frightful. Damn, she really had been lost in her thoughts.
Her total focus on him now, she dropped her hand from her chest, though his gaze stayed there a few moments longer before jerking up to meet hers.
“What were you thinking about so hard that you didn’t hear my Hemi diesel truck pull up behind you?”
Her full cheeks pinkened, her expression filling with guilt.
