Slow Burn. Cherry AdairЧитать онлайн книгу.
the hairbrush out of her hand. More, she’d been sure, for something to do with his hands than to console her, he’d ended up brushing her hair for hours as they talked. Luke looking at the back of her head, Catherine watching his face, unobserved, in her vanity mirror across the room. She never did remember what they’d talked about, only that it was the first time she’d experienced sexual awareness. For her, it was the night their relationship had changed forever.
That was the night she’d realized she loved him.
Her ponytail brushed between her shoulder blades and she shivered, remembering the sensual pleasure of Luke’s fingers in her hair, against her nape.... Get a grip here, she warned herself sternly, as she waited for him to unlock the massive oak door. Before she followed him inside, she bent to pull a weed that had managed to grow through the wood slats.
“Gonna plant that in a pot?” Luke turned, indicating the two-foot weed clutched in her hand, soil trailing from its roots.
His smile tangled up in Catherine’s heart. Sunlight stroked his dark hair and magnified his strong, unshaved jaw. His long, lean body looked breathtaking in washed-almost-white jeans and a short leather jacket. He looked handsome, disreputable and too sexy for a small-town girl from Oregon. Yet she wanted him more than her next breath. She held out the droopy weed. “Got a pot?”
“And a window,” he said dryly. “Here, give me that. I’ll take you on the twenty-dollar tour.” He took the plant, tossed it outside, then brushed off his hands.
“Twenty bucks, huh?”
“And worth every penny. Careful where you walk. Not all the nails are countersunk in the subflooring.”
The square entry echoed their footsteps as she followed him into a large room filled with sawhorses, paint cans, lumber scraps and other paraphernalia of construction. Sunlight streamed through the plastic-covered windows. The room smelled of fresh wood, mudding compound and dust. She sidestepped boxes of nails and a mountain of Sheetrock to cross the room.
“Wow. This fireplace looks great.” Catherine ran her hand lightly over the enormous natural stones, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “Did you carry even one of these monstrous rocks?”
He gave her a horrified look as he removed his jacket, tossing it onto a stepladder. “Are you kidding? What do you think Nick is for? Poor spindly fellow, he needed the exercise.”
Catherine shook her head. “You’re terrible. What was the bet?”
“Who could eat the most soft pretzels.” He puffed out his chest, stretching his black T-shirt over hard muscle. Catherine’s mouth went dry. “I ate twenty-three.”
“Gross. You must have been sick as a dog.”
“Well, yeah. But it was worth it.” His grin was infectious and her heart leaped ridiculously as he laid his arm across her shoulders and stood beside her, looking at the wall of stone with pride. “There are over two hundred fieldstones embedded in that thar li’l ol’ fireplace.”
Reaching to the cathedral ceiling, and about fifteen feet wide, it hardly qualified as little. She shook her head, used to Luke’s and Nick’s ridiculous but harmless bets.
“When are you two going to stop that nonsense? You’ve been betting on anything and everything since fifth grade.”
“We did a sealed bet when we’d stop.”
Catherine shook her head again and slipped casually from under his arm. The back of her neck tingled and her knees felt wobbly as she strolled over to the plastic-covered bay window.
“Oh, Luke, this is absolutely glorious. Look at this view. Are there any deer out there, do you think?”
“Several. I saw a doe and her fawn last weekend.”
He walked over and leaned against an exposed stud, his arms folded as he watched her from hooded eyes. A stud leaning against a stud. How appropriate. Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she shifted without looking at him.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course,” she said brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You just seem...I don’t know...different.”
“Different? How?” Since when?
“I don’t know.” He looked as puzzled as he sounded.
Excruciatingly aware of him watching her, she didn’t know where to look, what to do with her too-large hands and feet.
“There’s Nick! Is that his new car? I’ll go out and help him carry whatever he’s brought for lunch.”
If she took a breath in there, Luke didn’t hear it. She dashed out of the room, fiery ponytail bobbing against her shoulders, her sneakers echoing in the vast, empty room. Luke stared at her retreating back, avoiding the view of her tight little butt in retreat.
He shook his head and followed her outside. Just in time to see her fling herself into Nick’s open arms.
Scowling, Luke jogged down the stairs, gave a cursory glance at the screaming red BMW parked beside his bike, and dug into his back pocket. When Nick caught his eye over Cat’s head, Luke flashed him the twenty in his hand. The top of Cat’s head reached Nick’s jaw. Luke didn’t like the way they had their arms looped about each other’s waist as they strolled toward the house together.
He’d seen that look in his partner’s eye about seven million times. Luke wanted to gently set Cat aside and pummel his best friend’s and business partner’s face into the dirt. Twice, for good measure. He settled for a meaningful glare.
Nick grinned. Still holding Cat under one brawny arm, he snagged the money out of Luke’s fingers. “Thank you kindly, son.” He chuckled, stuffing the bill into his front pocket.
Cat glanced from one to the other and raised one red eyebrow.
“License plate. Has two threes in it,” Luke explained, keeping abreast with them on the steps and porch, but unable to squeeze through the front door. He glared at Nick, whose mockingbird-blue eyes held the devil today.
All three of them paused on the threshold.
“We could try it single file,” Cat offered seriously, her head doing the tennis match waltz to see who was going to cave first.
“No,” Luke and Nick agreed. Nick pulled a quarter out of his pocket. “Call it.”
“Tails.”
The coin caught the light as it twisted in the air, then landed on Nick’s palm. “Step back, pardner. The lady’s with me tonight.”
Luke scowled as he followed them into the living room. There wasn’t that much heavy lifting to do. He could have done without Nick’s help today.
CHAPTER THREE
“WELL, HONEY, AREN’T you absolutely, outrageously gorgeous?” Nick released Catherine’s waist, only to capture both her hands. He held her in front of him, arms spread wide, their fingers entwined, as he checked her out from head to toe, and all ports in between. She gave him a frank stare back. She’d adored him for almost twenty years. Almost as long as she’d known Luke. It puzzled her why, when Nick was a truly delicious hunk of manhood, she’d never felt any of the sparks that ignited at just the thought of Luke.
“In eight months,” she teased, “I had two more calls from you than I did from Luke. I had to come and see for myself if you guys were behaving yourselves.”
“I gotta tell you, sweet thing, if I’d known you’d get even more beautiful, I would’ve called three times a day.”
Catherine pulled her hands free and gave him a mild look. “Three times a day, huh? What on earth would we talk about?”
“Your fantastic hair.” Nick reached out and fingered a few strands near her face, then