What would his kiss taste like?
After several long seconds staring at his lips, she started to feel like an idiot standing in near silence while savoring the heat of his large hands cradling her smaller ones. A flutter in her stomach finally urged her to breathe and respond.
“Because that’s what you and Devon want.” Shock registered on his face when she replied honestly. Why hadn’t she said something cleverer?
A rough rumble percolated in his throat. The masculine growl was so sexy she felt it stroke across her skin, raising goose bumps. Then “brat” spilled from his mouth, shattering the moment.
Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she wouldn’t let him know how his derogatory comment had affected her.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn? You shouldn’t be doing this kind of work. You should be—”
“Barefoot and pregnant? In the kitchen whipping up breakfast for my man?” she snipped. The fact that he thought of her in this vein set her hackles rising, pushing back her disappointment.
Reece must have recognized her agitation, because he grumbled, “Now don’t get your panties in a twist. I just meant you shouldn’t— A woman shouldn’t have to do hard labor. Look at your delicate hands.”
Woman? Delicate? Is that how he really saw her?
Years ago he hadn’t expressed concern when she had helped him and Devon build a tree house in that big oak tree in their backyard. Her questioning gaze touched his. He looked as if he would say more. Instead, he quickly released her as if her touch suddenly scorched him, leaving her feeling like a loose end whipping in the salty breeze that swept across her heated face.
“They’ll be fine.” Her voice trembled. Reaching for the hammer, she was surprised when he grabbed it out of her grasp.
“No you don’t. There are plenty of things you can do to help without being here.”
“Like what? Or is this another trick to get rid of me?” She could have died when her wounded pride bled through her taut words.
“Color choices. Put that education you have to work. Joe from the hardware store is donating the paint for this project. We should be done with the structure and deck by noon. I’ve scheduled the drywall for one. It will need to cure overnight, but in the meantime we can paint the trim pieces and the deck around three. Everything can be assembled tomorrow and the structure painted.”
“Do you really think we can finish both projects in two and a half days?”
“Absolutely. The cottage will take today and most of tomorrow. Later tomorrow we can start working on your sultan’s tent structure and finishing everything Friday morning.”
We. He said we, which meant he included her.
“That will leave you Thursday evening and early Friday to complete the actual tent and the frills you have planned. Will you be able to complete what you need to in that time?”
“Yes.” Happiness bubbled up inside her. “I’ve already enlisted several women to start on the panels and pillows tomorrow. I also asked Josie and Vic to hit all the stores today for jewelry and golden trinkets. We’re hoping most of the items will be donated.”
“Make sure they stop by Mom’s,” he suggested. “She has several Manzanita shrubs shipped over from her sister in California. Years ago Dad painted the damn things black and Mom draped the leafless branches with cheap necklaces and stuff. Since he passed, she retired them to the garage. Maybe she’d give them to you to use for your sultan’s tent.”
With the mention of his parents, she thought back to those horrible days when his father was sick with stomach cancer. She and Devon had been there when Hannah, Reece’s mother, had told him his father was gone. So distraught, Reece had run from the room. He hadn’t known she had followed him to the tree house. She was about to join him when she heard him release a bloodcurdling scream, his cry cutting her bone deep. Instead of going to him, she had leaned against the base of the tree and silently wept for him—for his loss.
After that Reece had changed. He grew up way too fast.
Brody had taken being the man of the house to heart while Reece had focused on his education, graduating high school a year early and attending summer school. He had been pushing to succeed ever since.
“I’ll contact your mother after I finish this last piece of plywood.” She snatched the hammer from his hand, jammed the claw head beneath a nail and jerked.
It had been Devon’s idea to put Tabby to work pulling nails, but Reece had known she was made of tougher stuff than sugar and spice. There was no doubt in his mind she would be by their side for as long as it took. Nothing had changed from childhood, except that she had grown into a delectable woman who haunted his dreams.