Bold(8)

Last night she had sauntered into Hauk’s pub wearing those four-inch-heeled boots she liked to wear, skin-caressing tights that molded her long, shapely legs, and a soft sweater that fell off one delicate shoulder. In his dream he hadn’t refused her request for a dance. No. He had eagerly taken her soft pliable body into his arms, buried his nose in her silky hair to inhale the feminine scent that was uniquely hers. During the slow, sensuous steps she had rubbed against him like a kitten. The next thing he knew the dance floor morphed into his ocean-cliffed house. They were in his bed, naked, and he was thrusting deep inside her. Beneath him she had been so responsive, so—

“Are you going to stand there and watch me work?”

He blinked, staring into suspicious blue eyes. “No. I’m— Hmm…the plans.” He reached for the vellums, quickly rolling them up.

Dammit.

Spinning on the toe of one of his boots, he hurried off before he made a complete and utter fool of himself. The last thing he needed was to lose control when it came to Tabby. He had nothing to offer her but a night of pleasure, and she deserved more. She deserved a man who could love her—commit to a lifelong future, and he wasn’t that guy. Right now he was focused on his business, making it the best he could. Plus, he travelled much of the time. What woman would stand for an absentee boyfriend? Besides, Devon would never forgive him. Hell. The man might even kill him. In the future, Reece would keep more space between him and Tabby.

Yet if he thought distance would make a difference, he was dead wrong. When she finished up, she removed her hoodie, revealing a spaghetti-strap T-shirt that barely reached her navel. The second he saw that span of bare tanned skin and the dimple where a bellybutton ring dangled, his blood stirred, his body turning rock hard.

To make matters worse, Devon sauntered up beside him. “Hey, man. I’m sorry.”

Reece inched his utility belt around so that a small handsaw hid his obvious arousal. Then he faced his friend head-on. “Sorry?”

“Tabby.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Her infatuation with you hasn’t died.” Before he could say more, Laurel Savage, Brody’s secretary, waltzed up to them, hips swaying.

The statuesque five-ten blonde with classic high cheekbones, smiled when her gaze met Reece’s. “Morning, Devon. Reece,” she said without breaking eye contact. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He had completely forgotten their dinner date. “Seven?”

“Seven?” Tabby mimicked as she strolled up beside him. Her inquisitive gaze pinned on him.

“Hey, Tabby.”

“Tabatha,” she corrected, as she turned her attention to the older woman and gave her a casual once-over. “Laurel.”

If she detected Tabby’s disconcerting interest, she didn’t let on. “Seven will be great. I’ll meet you there after work.”

“What’s going on?” Tabby asked.

“Reece and I are having dinner tonight at that new steak place that just opened up,” Laurel offered innocently.

“How nice.” Was it Reece’s imagination or did Tabby just hiss, holding on to the last syllable a little longer than what was necessary?

“Well, I better get going. Bye, Devon. Tabby—Tabatha. Reece, I’ll see you tonight.” The softness in her voice as she said his name was a sensual caress that didn’t go unnoticed by him or Devon, who cocked a brow, and certainly not Tabby, whose eyes turned into shards of blue ice.

When Laurel was out of earshot, Tabby muttered, “So the flavor of the month is tall and blonde?”

“Tabby,” Devon said firmly.

Without another remark, she slid around Devon and him. Heavy footsteps carried her down the street and around a corner. In seconds she was gone from their sight.

“Dammit,” Devon groaned. “This has catastrophe written all over it.” He spun around and went back to building the porch.

Then it struck Reece like a sledgehammer to the head. Tabby was jealous. The knowledge stroked his masculine pride like nothing else had in some time. For the briefest of moments, he wondered what it would be like to be dining across the table from a curvy, dark-haired woman tonight. Then he chastised himself for his perverse thought. Maybe the long-legged blonde was just what he needed to erase his irrational desire for his best friend’s little sister.

Releasing a pent-up breath, he spun around and headed back to work.

The rest of the day went as he had planned. After looking at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time, he noted it was three o’clock. Harold had delivered the paint and supplies Tabby had chosen, but strangely she was nowhere in sight. As he pried open the can, he couldn’t help worrying about her. It wasn’t like her to brush off a commitment. He didn’t have to worry long when he heard her tinkling laughter.