Kissing Bree Read online

  She closed her eyes and took in a breath, but he saw that her hand trembled as she smoothed her hair back down. He hadn’t even been aware of it but he must have run his fingers through all that golden silk. His pulse was pounding and his dick was hard. He had to rein this in and fast.

  “Bree, look.”

  She opened those gorgeous blue eyes and stared up at him. “What was that?”

  He was damned if he knew. “It was just a kiss.”

  He was lying. He knew it and she knew it, but he would hold to his story. It was the single best few seconds he’d spent in at least three years, but how could he tell her that? She would never believe it. He’d sound like an idiot at best and an asshole at worst.

  Her lips parted, those soft wet lips of hers, and she shook her head. “Whatever. That is so not going to happen again.”

  He licked his own lips and could still taste her. His mouth, his body, might still crave something more but his head knew what was what. “You’re right.”

  She straightened her skirt and visibly collected herself. A lot more buttons of her shirt were undone than previously, and he caught a glimpse of those fantastic breasts not quite covered by pink lace. His mouth watered but he managed to merely point toward her cleavage. “Your shirt.”

  She looked down and her eyes widened. She gasped and fumbled a little as she did up the buttons. “Jeez.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing, Derek.”

  He recalled then that he’d said he was sorry over and over again as he’d kissed and caressed her. He bit back another apology. God, old habits die hard.

  “This never happened,” she added.

  That pissed him off a little bit. It was the single best kiss he’d had in as long as he could remember, but he knew it meant nothing. He’d been a dick and she’d been right to slap him. It was the first time in his memory that he’d deserved it, despite the many reasons his father had always given. He hadn’t been right to kiss her, though. He nodded his agreement.

  “So let me know the details of the offer,” he said. “I think we can come in near asking.”

  “You really want this house.”

  “I do.”

  She stared at him for a beat. He fought to push back the echoes of desire still thrumming through him, keeping his expression even.

  “Okay, then,” she said.

  They left the home and all the way back to the Sales Center he couldn’t shake the memory of what had happened in that kitchen. His hands itched to run all over her body, and without the barrier of her very nice, very professional clothes. He’d told her he’d had women like her? He was out of his mind if he believed he had ever been with a woman like Bree.

  From the first time he’d met her he’d been blunt. Remote, as he sought to be in all business interactions. All through the tour of the house he’d been preoccupied though. This choice was important. He had to find a place where his mother would be comfortable as she transitioned into a normal life. He wanted that for her more than anything in this world. His job, his money, his car. All of it paled as he thought about everything his mother had endured with Eddie Stone.

  He and Abby had felt the brunt of their father’s anger or inadequacies now and then. Over and over Derek would apologize but it never seemed to be good enough. Their mother had taken everything the bastard had given her without protest, though. Barely a year had passed since Derek and Abby’s repeated arguments finally led to a long-overdue divorce.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Bree said as she cranked off the golf cart’s motor.

  As she made a move to step out, he placed a hand on her arm. “Bree, wait.”

  She turned to him, her cheeks flushed and her hair a little mussed from the ride. His mind flashed back to how she’d looked after their kiss. How she would have looked afterwards if he’d gotten her up on that sparkly quartz countertop.

  “What is it?” she asked. “Don’t even think we’re going to do dinner. Not now.”

  Her tone was ice cold and just what he needed to douse his adolescent fantasies.

  “I am sorry.”

  She arched one perfectly-shaped brow. “I believe you.”

  He dipped his head. “And I know you told me to let this go, and I will. I just wanted you to know that.”

  “I want you to forget this ever happened.”

  “I will.”

  Her gaze ran over his face before she gave a nod. Stepping out, giving him a nice shot of her even nicer legs, she left him alone in the cart.

  He took the time to breathe slowly, in and out. He’d had to figure out a way to handle his own anger at his father growing up. He’d had to swallow every hurtful word and painful blow the bastard had flung at him. Hell, he’d had to watch his father hit his mother until he was big enough to stand in front of her for protection. He’d be damned if he forgot the reason he was doing this.

  Moving here. Starting over. He was doing it for his family. The family that counted. For his mother and for his sister. Of that, he was very sure. He was sure of something else, too.

  There was no way in hell he would ever forget about kissing Bree.

  ***

  Bree sat on her porch that evening, sipping a glass of wine as she waited for the sun to dip behind the trees. A creamy chenille blanket wrapped her shoulders and her feet were tucked under her. It was a little bit chilly and more than a little bit damp, but the sky was clear and pretty. She took another sip of the very nice pinot and let out a breath.

  Her work day wasn’t a long one, and she was generally free by five thirty at the latest. Today had been even shorter for her, since Derek had made his snap judgment about the very first house she’d shown him. She shook her head. Nope. She wasn’t going to think about that confusing man. Not while she had her own slice of paradise here on her porch with nothing across the street but the tree-lined walk around the west side of the main lakeshore.

  She knew the value of her own house. The neighborhood might not be as exclusive as her boss’s or even Derek’s but her home was situated on an exterior lot which gave her the feeling of space. She could enjoy it, and did. Often.

  Most of her colleagues were on the same work schedule, but they all had their own lives. Tammy and Ben went home to their little ravioi Raffaella. Claire went home to her husband and their baby boy. Jessie and Noah had shared custody of Noah’s son Max, and even Oliver had his significant other, Todd. But Bree didn’t share her view or her more-than-adequate situation. Bree had no one. So she’d grabbed a yoga class at the fitness center and then come home. Alone.

  Her house was lovely, but it was about time she did something about decorating it. This teak bench was pretty nice, and she’d gone to the home improvement center in St. Cloud to buy it and its comfy cushions. Taking a page from Jessie’s book, she knew that the little things could improve a house’s curb appeal. She might not be selling her place, but she sure liked coming home to its welcoming covered front porch.

  The bench with bright pillows, the spring-greenery wreath hung on the glossy yellow door that perfectly accented the gray clapboard-look siding. It was kind of like sitting in one of those Easter eggs with the scene hidden inside. Once she walked through the front door, though? Any comfort or hominess was decidedly missing on the interior.

  She should finally pay a visit to her grandmother’s storage unit. Maybe over this weekend. It would give her something to do with her days off, anyway. Spending another weekend sitting on her very nice linen couch while watching movies back-to-back on her flat screen TV was really getting old. What would be on but romantic comedies or mistress-revenge movies anyway? Neither appealed. Romance, either quirky and sweet or dark and disturbed, wasn’t on her horizon. She smiled at that last bit, grateful that without the highs of romance in her life she’d also never experienced the lows.

  In truth, any kind of romance had always eluded her. The boys her parents had tried to throw in her path hadn’t even spiked her pulse for one second. Then, when
she was in college, the guys who just wanted to get in the ice-queen’s pants weren’t the kind a girl pinned her heart on, either. So she’d never even really dated. Once in a while a friend or coworker would set her up on a blind date, and she would indulge in the wish that she’d feel something for once.

  There had been some mutual itch-scratching, of course. Some more-or-less-than-passionate hookups that always seemed to convince her that there would be no repeat. The guys always wanted more, but they were obviously thinking on a baser level. She liked sex. It was a way to fill a night once in a very great while. But it always left her a little cold. Maybe even as cold as some guys had always said she was.

  Running the tip of her tongue over her upper lip, she indulged in reliving today’s kiss. With Derek Stone, of all men. His touch, his taste, left her anything but cold. She’d felt herself come alive for those few moments in his arms. His hands on her butt, his hair-roughened face against her throat. How she’d had the strength to push him away, she had no idea. She’d wanted more of him, but that was ridiculous. She’d slapped the sneer off of his face and then kissed him like her plane was going down.

  “Stupid mistake,” she murmured. “Nothing more.”

  Oh, but that mistake was such a contradiction. He’d looked so lost, standing in that magnificent kitchen. Then she’d gone and pushed into his business and the stick-up-his-butt version she’d come to know had swiftly resurfaced. He’d looked at her and spoken to her like those guys at school had. And she’d slapped him! Jeez, what a mess.

  There would be no repeat, though. She’d made that clear to him and he’d seemed on board with the plan. Heck, he’d seemed like he would barely remember their kiss past the short ride back to the Sales Center. It was a little insulting, really. She only had to close her eyes and she was back in that state-of-the-art kitchen. Back in his arms and under his spell.

  She laughed lightly and drained her glass. Holding her breath, she watched as the sun slid below the ripples of the lake. The sky was orange and pink and purple.

  “Hey, Bree,” Derek said, poised on the sidewalk.

  She’d been so focused on the view that she’d missed the sound of footsteps. He’d apparently walked here, since she didn’t see his Lexus at the curb. He’d changed into jeans and sneakers, and she was a little surprised that he had either in his possession. His shirt was denim too, in a shade a little lighter than his pants.

  “Hey.” Ugh, lame.

  He stuck his hands in his front pockets and stared down at his feet. She took the opportunity to really look at him. His forearms were corded with muscles she’d felt earlier today, but his sleeves were pushed up to showcase them. He looked different, he looked casual, and that served to put her on her guard.

  “How did you find my house?”

  He stared at her for a beat. “Due diligence.”

  “What do you want, Derek?”

  His lips thinned, but he shrugged. “I have to talk to you about what happened today.”

  “Nothing happened today.” She looked him dead in the eye. “Remember?”

  “Bree, I was a dick.”

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  He barked a short laugh and stepped closer. “May I?”

  It was ridiculous, his standing on her front walkway and asking permission to approach. Surreal, even.

  “Look, if you’re going to apologize again I don’t want to hear it.”

  “I don’t have an apology. Just an explanation.”

  She stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have the feeling this is going to call for wine. Am I wrong?”

  A smile teased his mouth and his shoulders seemed to relax a little. “No. You’re not wrong.”

  She gave a nod and went into the house to grab the bottle and another glass. When she returned to the porch he was still standing, but leaning a shoulder against one of the turned posts.

  “Sit, Derek.”

  He nodded and sat on her comfy bench, placing his hands on his thighs. “Thanks.”

  She poured him a glass and handed it to him. He held it with long graceful fingers. She was surprised to see that small scars were visible on his palm. It was strange to think of him as a man with any flaws.

  “Spill,” she said.

  “I need the house right away, Bree. For my mother.”

  She blinked. “Your mother? She’s moving to Cypress?”

  “That’s the plan. I want her settled in the Active Adult section, but I don’t want to wait until the development is ready for its first occupants.”

  She nodded. “That could be a while, actually.”

  “Right. I need you to keep this quiet, though.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m not much of a secret-keeper and I never lie.”

  “I’m not asking you to lie. I just need some discretion.”

  “Discretion? Yes, I’m used to that. I handle a lot of contracts.”

  He flashed that small smile again. “Contracts I suspect I’ll be drafting going forward.”

  She smiled in return. “Then you have my word, counselor.”

  After drinking some of his wine, he set the glass on the porch floor. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

  He looked so lost, and she knew he had no real friends in Cypress but Eli. Eli and Caro would be spending their time together, though. She herself knew what it felt like to be the third wheel, and wouldn’t want to wish it on the guy.

  “What are you doing this weekend?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Want to come up to Orlando with me? I have to go to my grandmother’s storage unit.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ll need to borrow a truck, though. I’ve seen that car of yours and it just won’t do.”

  “And what do you drive?”

  “My grandmother’s sixty-five Mustang. A sixty-five and a half, actually.”

  His mouth dropped open. “That’s yours? I’ve seen it in the parking lot. Nice ride. And it was your grandmother’s?”

  She grinned as she thought of her inherited, cherry-red beauty. “My grandmother was one of a kind and my grandfather indulged her. They were a perfect match, and that car was one of her prized possessions.”

  “And now it’s yours.”

  “Yep. And so is the contents of her storage unit. I’m going to warn you, though. I don’t even know what’s in there.”

  “Challenge accepted. I’ll ask around and get a truck we can use.”

  “Thanks.”

  He stood and gave a nod. “Just let me know what time, Bree.”

  She nodded too, keeping to her seat. If she stood she’d probably throw herself at him and that so wasn’t going to happen. This casual Derek was even more irresistible than the pressed and polished guy who she could still taste even over her wine.

  He walked back towards the inn and she couldn’t help but watch him go. Why had she asked him to go with her to Orlando? Because she was getting a little tired of being alone. Of living in the limbo she’d inhabited for the past year.

  Or maybe she was afraid of missing out on what might be a pretty great second kiss.

  Chapter 5

  “Thanks, man.” Derek took the keys from Eli. They stood on the front porch of Eli and Caro’s townhouse, and the morning was a little chilly. It would get warmer later, but for now he slid the keys into the pocket of his hooded jacket. “I’ll get these back to you this afternoon.”

  Eli waved a hand. “No hurry.” He jerked a thumb toward the front door at his back. “I don’t plan on driving anywhere this weekend, let alone dragging my wife out of bed to do it.”

  Derek arched a brow. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”

  Eli shook his head and grinned. “Nope. My cupcake gets up at oh dark thirty to open her bakery every day but Sunday. From this afternoon until the wee hours on Monday morning she’s all mine. Her and that little bun she’s got in her oven.”
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  Derek chuckled at the guy’s joke. “Bun. I get it. Okay, thanks again.”

  “No prob.”

  Derek left his Lexus parked in front of the townhouse and climbed into Eli’s truck. The vehicle was big and beefy, and not what he would have expected his friend to own. An upscale SUV, maybe. Then again, there was a lot of country-feel to living in Cypress Corners. Maybe it made sense to have a sturdy truck that could haul stuff, too. Eli would have to pick up baby furniture and stuff.

  The drive to Bree’s house near the lakeshore should only take a couple of minutes. Over the past couple of days Derek kept waiting for her to change her mind. But between Mr. Forbes’s numerous meetings and Bree’s own busy tour schedule he hadn’t caught sight of her alone for more than a few seconds here and there. He figured that was in his favor. He hadn’t had the opportunity to piss her off again.

  When he’d texted her this morning he’d half-expected her to decline his help. She hadn’t, and they’d settled on a meeting time of nine o’clock. After a long run along Jake Chapman’s trails before sunrise, he’d hopefully worked off any possible frustration that might come later.

  He wanted to spend time with Bree, which should have struck him as strange in and of itself. He did have to make up for the way he’d acted on that house tour with her. Plus, his offer on the house had been accepted by the seller so he wanted to take her to dinner. As long as he didn’t do something to fuck it all up again.

  He couldn’t resist driving past what would be his new home. If anyone had told him a year ago that he’d be putting down roots in a touchy-feely place like Cypress Corners he would have called them a fool. He’d always pictured himself in a big loft condominium in Boston. The kind with floor to ceiling windows and exposed brick and beams. He’d never envisioned anything more than that bare-bones existence, though. His apartment had been leased and not really very grand. Just a place to flop over the past three years he’d been working at Chapman. Not that Bill hadn’t paid him very well. He had. Not that Derek’s retainer going forward wasn’t sufficient either. It was. No, he just hadn’t given much thought to where he’d slept.