Silence. No dog. No cat. Not even a damn bird to welcome him home.
Yet before today—before Tabby—he had been content with his career and life.
He had plenty to be thankful for. Both he and Brody were successful. Between them their mother was set for life. The wife of a dead sailor had it rough. Their childhood hadn’t been easy. She had sought odd jobs to keep her children fed and clothed, scraped every penny to put Brody through school while Reece had buckled down on his studies and received scholarships.
“Damn you,” he groaned. Tabby had thrown a huge wrench into his perfectly planned world.
On leaden feet he walked through the spacious kitchen that bled into the family and dining room, making an open room. No matter where he stood, he could gaze out over the ocean. The four-bedroom house was too large for a single man. What had he been thinking when he built it? At the time he had considered what type of house would be good for resale. Yet he had been fooling himself. He never planned to leave Whispering Cove.
As he entered his bedroom, decorated in dark tones and distinctly male furniture, bulky and heavy, he tore his T-shirt over his head and stopped, smelling paint thinner, dust and something distinctively erotic.
“Tabby,” he whispered.
He hadn’t noticed until now that her scent coated his skin. The woman had marked him as thoroughly as if she had tattooed her damn name on his ass, or more accurately, his heart.
No. Not his heart. It couldn’t be his heart.
They were friends—only friends.
After undressing, he slipped into the shower, soaping and rinsing quickly, before stepping out on the throw rug to dry off.
He would have been dressed and out of the house sooner, but he added a little extra cologne to smother Tabby’s scent, only to end up smelling like a gigolo in a French whorehouse. Try as he might, her sweet fragrance lingered, even after he jumped back into the shower and changed his clothes twice. Now he prayed Lauren didn’t get the wrong idea and think he was trying too hard.
The drive to the restaurant had been a short one. He sighed when he saw the parking lot jam-packed, so he drove down the street and pulled his vehicle to the side of the road, turning the ignition off. The rich aroma of charcoal and barbeque mixed with the usual seafood fare wafted in the cool night air.
When he entered the steakhouse, Lauren was waiting for him at a table. She smiled sweetly as he slid into the booth across from her.
“You look nice tonight, Lauren.”
And she did.
Instead of the uniform she wore at the police station, she had on a sundress with a light wrap that joined her long blonde hair to drape across smooth, creamy shoulders. Shoulders he had once thought about exposing and nibbling on, but they didn’t appear that appetizing tonight.
“So do you.”
“Thank you.” He reached for idle chatter while his mind wandered to the Seaside Pub, wondering if Tabby had arrived. “Did you have a good day today?”
“A slow day is a good day for us.” She paused, angling her head as she curiously stared at him. “Everything okay?”
“Just a lot to do. Guess I’m a little tired.” And distracted, but he left that excuse unspoken.
She took a sip from her wineglass. “How are the booths coming along?”
“The cottage will be finished tomorrow, and then we’ll start the sultan’s booth structure either later that evening or early Friday morning. It shouldn’t take us more than three hours.”
“You’re cutting it close.”
He sighed. “You’re telling me.” It seemed as if he was cutting a lot of things close these days.
“Sultan’s tent? That sounds interesting. Did you have a harem of women in mind when you thought of that idea?”
“The design of the sultan’s tent was Tabby’s brainchild, the cottage as well.”
“Hmmm…” Lauren raised an inquisitive brow. “Sounds like the two of you work well together.”
There was that insinuation again that Tabby and he worked well together.
He made a noncommittal throaty noise before he picked up his water glass and took a drink. “What’s good here?”
He grabbed the menu, hiding his thoughtful expression behind it. Not only did he and Tabby complement each other on the job site, they were beyond believable in bed. Memories of her hands touching him, her rapid breaths, her sensual cries, made his cock twitch.
“Since this is my first time here, I can’t say.”
Shit. He was such an idiot.
“That’s right.” Where the hell was his game face when he needed it? And, why couldn’t he get thoughts of Tabby out of his fuckin’ head? “So what looks good to you?”