Sex for Beginners Box Set(18)

Not if Gemma’s subconscious actions were any indication, he noted. Instead of pulling into the middle of the two-car garage, she carefully maneuvered into the rightmost space, leaving room for a phantom car. He wondered if she even realized she was still holding a place in her life for her ex’s return.

They walked companionably to his house and she murmured appreciation at the obvious changes—the terra-cotta tiled walkway was newly restored and glistening with sealer. The arched entryway was repaired with the new columns in place and freshly painted. He stopped at an outside spigot to wash his gritty hands and face, then grabbed his work shirt from the handle of a wheelbarrow and shrugged into it, leaving it unbuttoned. He felt Gemma’s gaze upon him and welcomed it. If he could affect her senses a fraction of the amount that she affected his, maybe she’d invite him into her bed instead of relegating him to the role of spectator at her erotic shows.

Especially since even her performances had ceased.

Inside, he helped her pick her way across plastic-covered floors. The tile work and wood planks underfoot would be one of the last installations, lest they be marred by machinery and heavy boots. The newly applied plaster on the ceiling in the foyer emanated a pungent but satisfying aroma. At Gemma’s urging, Chev had sought out a metal salvage yard and purchased enough sections of wrought-iron railing to replace the crumbling wooden banisters.

“Gorgeous,” she breathed.

“I couldn’t be happier with the way it turned out,” he admitted. “I’m going to replace the wood window shutters with iron detail, too.”

At the mention of windows, he thought he detected a stiffening of her shoulders, but she didn’t say anything. In the great room, Chev was pleased to see Gemma’s face light up at the newly tiled fireplace.

“It’s stunning.”

“Thanks to you. I wouldn’t have chosen these colors or design without your encouragement.”

“I’m glad to help,” she murmured, and he thought he detected a wistful note in her voice.

“You’re good at this,” he observed. “Have you considered consulting for a living?”

“Maybe someday,” she said, nodding. “I hope I can put my degree to use for something more than being a tour guide.”

“How’s that going?”

“Um…fine.” But he was alerted to the way her hand went to the vee of her coat to absently caress the bare skin there.

“I thought you said this was a part-time job. Haven’t you been working almost every day?”

“The exhibit has been more popular than the museum anticipated.” Her voice had dropped an octave and suddenly she fanned herself. “It’s really warm in here.”

“You can take off your coat.”

“I…would rather leave it on.”

Then it hit him. Gemma’s job turned her on…allowed her to be an exhibitionist in plain sight, in the guise of a tour guide.

His cock jumped against his fly. Damn, the woman was killing him. But she seemed nervous, lifting her hair to fan her neck. He noticed that she had a tiny brown beauty mark on the nape of her neck that matched the one at the corner of her mouth. “I won’t keep you much longer. I just want to show you the kitchen.”

She followed him to the kitchen where a firebrick oven had been installed and mortared, next to shiny stainless steel appliances.

“It’s magnificent,” she said, clapping her hands like a child. Then her gaze landed on a long farmhouse wood table, the top of which was several inches thick. “Oh my—where did you get this?”

“Another find at the salvage yard. I don’t intend to furnish the place, but it seemed perfect for this spot.”

“It is,” she said, running her hands over the scarred but smooth surface. She lowered herself to one of the two long weathered benches that matched the table, giving him a nice view of her legs in the black mesh hose.

He swallowed a groan.

She smiled up at him. “You could certainly seat a large family around this table.”

“Funny you should say that,” he said. “My parents and younger sister are coming to Tampa next week. They’re visiting colleges. I have an aunt and an uncle who live nearby, and a young cousin. I thought I’d have them all come here for a little party since the kitchen is operational. It’ll give my family a chance to see what I’m working on.”

“That’s nice.” She gestured to the long empty wall behind the table. “I’ll do my best to have the mural done before then.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” he said. “The house will still be a long way from being finished. Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to join us?”

Her eyes widened.

“It’ll be casual,” he assured her. “I’ll have food and a cake delivered. Since the part for your air conditioner hasn’t arrived, consider it a small thank-you to show my appreciation for all that you’ve done.”

Gemma pushed to her feet. “Fixing my air conditioner will be plenty of thanks.” His disappointment must have been evident because she added, “But…I’ll think about it and let you know. I should be going.”

He followed her to the front door and out onto the covered entryway, stricken by the overwhelming urge to drag her into his arms. “Gemma.”

She turned and looked up at him, her eyes questioning.

Chev stepped toward her and picked up a lock of her hair. “I’ve missed you at the window.”

Her throat worked and her chest rose and fell rapidly. “I…it felt awkward since we’ve gotten to know each other.”

“If I’d known that,” he said with a smile, “I would’ve stayed on this side of my property line.”

That made her smile and her tension was replaced with that matter-of-fact sexuality that made him wild for her. “Are you saying you don’t want to be friends?”

He stepped closer and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I prefer friends with benefits.”

A small sound of wanting came from her throat, but she pulled away. “Like I said, I prefer to keep things at a distance.”

“But it’s more fun up close.” He slowly untied the belt of her coat, revealing a red satin bustier and black pleated short skirt. He groaned and his cock stiffened painfully as he slid his hands inside to caress her waist with his thumbs. “Gemma, don’t you feel this…electricity between us?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“Then why—”

“I can’t,” she cut in, looking away.

“But you want to.”

“It wouldn’t help,” she said, sounding resigned to whatever demons were plaguing her.

He put his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “I want to get next to you, Gemma. Let me.”

Her sigh caught in the moist air between them. Raw longing emanated from her smoky green eyes. She was wavering. He lowered his mouth to hers and captured a moan.

A car horn blasted into the air, suspending the moment. A white Lexus sat in Gemma’s driveway. A person alighted, frowning in their direction.

“Oh, dear God,” Gemma murmured. “Mother.”





12




AT THE SIGHT of her mother standing in her driveway next door, Gemma’s knees turned to elastic. Her lips were still warm from Chev’s, his hand still on her waist. And even at this distance, she could feel her mother’s searing disapproval.

“I have to go,” she said, pulling away, fumbling with her belt.

“But—”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Without looking back, Gemma walked stiffly toward her mother. Phyllipa Jacobs stood holding a casserole caddy and leaning against her car as if she might need it to support her weight. Gemma waved in an attempt to diffuse the openmouthed expression on her mother’s face.

“Mother…what a surprise.” She reached forward for an embrace, but her mother remained immobile.

“Gemma, who is that man? Were you…kissing him?”

Gemma caught her mother’s arm and guided her toward the front door. “His name is Chev, and he’s fixing up the house next door. I’m…helping him.”

Her mother allowed herself to be hauled up the stairs and onto the porch. “Helping him do what?”

“Choose architectural details for the renovation.”

“I came to visit because I’m worried about you, and I find you—” she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper “—in the arms of a strange man?”

“We were just talking, Mother.” Gemma worked the key in the lock furiously and pushed open the door.

“What on earth happened to your yard?”

“There’s a rogue peacock in the neighborhood.”

“A rogue…what? Gemma, have you been drinking?”

She sighed. “No, Mother.” But she sure could use a tall one right about now.

After they entered the house, Gemma flipped on lights strategically, once again wishing she’d taken the time to throw out all the items that Jason had said he didn’t want. Now they mocked her, proof of her reluctance to let him go long after he’d made it clear he wanted nothing from her.

“It’s awfully stuffy in here,” Phyllipa remarked.