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Or she might have been reading him all wrong because the man barely said a word and god knew, she’d misread her ex for a long time before finally realizing that his lack of engagement didn’t have anything to do with how hard she tried. He just hadn’t given a damn.
But Cutter’s heated gaze as he studied her body stirred her like nothing had in a long time. Every morning, those dark eyes flicked down to her hard nipples, visible even through her shirt and the thin canvas of her apron.
The first time he’d looked, she remembered how his fingers had clenched on the handle of the mug until she’d feared it would crack. It was the first time he’d spilled coffee over the lip of the ceramic, and she’d felt a perverse pleasure in the knowledge that just looking at her made a strong man tremble.
But he never acted on it. They chatted a bit as she poured his refills, but it always stopped short of flirting. He didn’t linger after he finished or drop by later in the day. So she’d kept her desires and daydreams to herself and worked them out on her own with a little piece of buzzing silicone.
Now she was in his giant work truck heading to her house because he’d seen that she needed help and gave it immediately and without question.
In moments, they were pulling into the driveway of the house she’d bought after the divorce. The sprawling four bedroom ranch was bigger than she and Aidan needed, but it sat on two beautiful acres that she’d painstakingly planted with fruit trees and small beds for flowers and herbs and vegetables over the years.
The extra space turned out to be a good thing because her father was preparing to move in with them.
Bob Navarro had retired as a colonel after nearly twenty-five years of active service to the Army, then moved onto another career with the National Guard at a base near Denver. He’d been gearing up to a second retirement when the dream of spending his golden years with Tracy’s mother was cut short by a devastatingly fast-moving cancer that took her too young.
Tracy had asked him to move in with her after the funeral, but he’d wanted to stay in the home he’d bought for his wife as long as he could. Now that he’d hit seventy, he was finally ready to spend the next phase of his life with his daughter and grandson.
Though he was still as upright as ever, he’d slowed down a bit and she wanted to be sure her home presented as few obstacles as possible to accommodate him as he aged. They planned a few renovations that seemed simple enough, so he insisted on doing the work himself, with Aidan as a helper.
Obviously, things were not going to plan.
Cutter pulled into the driveway and her son bounded out the front door, his t-shirt soaked, wearing a huge grin.
“Mom!” he called before she’d even opened the door. “You gotta come see this. It’s kind of awesome. There’s a shit-ton of water everywhere.”
“Aidan McKay, you watch your language,” she scolded with zero hope of gaining compliance. It didn’t help that her father’s second language was cursing.
Cutter came up behind her and Aidan’s eyes widened before he waved. “Hey. Do you know how to fix plumbing stuff?”
“I’m not an expert plumber, but I can probably help with the worst of it.” His left hand came to rest on her shoulder and she leaned into the shelter of his arm, taking the comfort he offered.
“Aidan, this is… is Cutter your first name or your last?” She knew so little about the man, yet there was something about him that invited her trust. As if he craved that gift from her.
“My first name is Michael, but no one’s used it since… ever.” He looked to the boy and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Aidan. You can call me Cutter.”
“Yes, sir.” He nodded and stood aside as she and Cutter entered the house. And that was the reason she put up with his forays into swearing. Because he was a sweet, respectful boy and she was proud of him.
They heard her dad before they saw him.
“Goddamn shiteating goatfucking wrench! About as useful as a goddamn soup sandwich!”
Aidan ran to see what was happening, leaving her alone with the quiet man.
Cutter choked at her dad’s outburst and when she looked, there was a distinct quirk at the edges of his mouth that…
“Is that a smile I see? That’s what it takes to make you smile? Fluent barracks talk?”
He looked down at her and brushed his lips against her temple. “It’s familiar, at least.”
“I guess I ought to learn how to swear better.”
“Do it and I’ll take you right over my knee, sugar. You’re not too old to spank.” He’d dropped his head to whisper those words in her ear and there was no way to hide the convulsive shudder that rolled through her body. How the hell had he tuned into the naughty fantasy she’d only read about?
His voice turned wicked. “There you go. Now you know what makes me smile.”
He straightened just before Aidan ran back down the hall sounding like a herd of buffalo. “I don’t get it. What’s a soup sandwich?”
“Don’t think about it too hard,” Cutter said as he walked down the hall toward the noise. “It’ll come to you.”
