“Never,” he declared, meaning it.
She smiled, probably because he sounded so earnest. She patted his chest, immediately making him regret having covered it with a shirt. He hadn’t forgotten how she’d enjoyed combing his chest hair.
“All right,” she said. “No regrets for the world class meal.”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have, but he felt better at her calling it world class.
CHAPTER SIX
The Darling Boys
REBECCA walked down the block and sat in her Versa, staring at nothing. She’d promised Trey she wouldn’t be sorry, but that was easier said than done. He was going to be her boss—probably, hopefully—which meant their relationship ought to stay professional. Now that she’d felt his athletic body pressed up to and into hers, she couldn’t imagine how she’d accomplish that.
Not wriggling on the seat was impossible. Having Trey only once would never satisfy her. He’d been an amazing lover: vigorous, intense, with a knack for knowing what she wanted almost before she did. All he had to do was look at her with those hot green eyes, and she’d melt into a puddle.
She dropped her head to the steering wheel and groaned. His cock had been lovely: its silky heat in her hand, the skill with which he used it to pleasure her. Her fingers curled at the thought of stroking his shaft again. Worse, they curled at the thought of embracing him.
He’d cradled her at the end, as if she were precious. She’d felt safe in his arms. She’d wanted to stay there.
Absolutely nothing about that was smart.
Over the years, she’d struggled to be smart about men. Until she was twenty-one, she’d done without dating. She’d been a single parent without a support system. She couldn’t risk anyone revealing her and the boys’ situation to an adult. That was too likely to result in them being split up, and she’d committed herself to keeping the three of them together. Just as important, if anything had happened to the twins while she was out having fun, she wouldn’t have been able to live with it.
“Hey, lady!” called a voice from a nearby car. “You coming or going?”
“Sorry,” she said, realizing the man was hoping to claim her parking spot. “I’m leaving now.”
The other driver backed up to give her room, polite enough now that he knew she was moving. Grateful for the distraction, Rebecca focused on the tasks required to get on the road.
She almost didn’t think about Trey Hayworth as she drove home.
When she arrived at their house in Cambridge, a shock awaited. A battered pick-up sat in the driveway behind her delivery van, the logo for a firm called Alcott Construction on its door. Equally troubling, a large green dumpster hulked on their small front lawn. Broken drywall and wood were piling up on one end.
Rebecca flew out of her car almost too quickly to park it first.#p#分页标题#e#
“Excuse me,” she said to the hulking young man who came up her basement steps, dragging a roll of stained carpet behind him. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
Rebecca wasn’t big, but she could do scary, no problem. The young man paled at her clear fury.
“Uh,” he said, halting in his tracks while keeping his hold on the rolled-up rug. “Your brothers hired me to reno your cellar?”
“My brothers!”
“Becca!” Charlie called, hurrying frantically down the front steps. “It’s okay. This is Jesse. He goes to school with us. His dad is in construction. We wanted to surprise you.”
As soon as he was near enough, Rebecca punched his shoulder.
“Ow!” Charlie said, rubbing it.
Pete stuck his head out the front door too.
“You,” she said, pointing her finger of doom at him. “Go back in the kitchen and wait for me.”
Pete made an oh crap face and disappeared. Rebecca looked at the boy named Jesse. To his credit, he seemed to have retrieved his nerve. He squared his bulky shoulders and answered her. “They told me you’d come around once they explained what this was for.”
“Fine.” Rebecca moderated her tone a tad. “Please don’t trash my house any more until I talk to them.”
The boy opened his mouth. Charlie stopped his protest with a headshake. He knew when his sister’s temper had hit its red zone.
“Inside,” Rebecca ordered, shooing him ahead of her.
“We’re not being crazy,” Charlie started babbling on the way. “Pete and I both agreed this is a smart idea.”
“Well, as long as you both agreed,” Rebecca snapped angrily.
Always calmer than Charlie, Pete stood his ground at the kitchen table. At nineteen, the twins were still gangly, but probably their full height. They weren’t as blond as she was—her hair having a little help—but the bright summer sun had streaked their shaggy waves. Naturally, she thought they were handsome, something girls their age were beginning to discover. Their recent rowing obsession had filled them out. To her surprise, Pete’s formerly spindly biceps looked impressive in his ragged gray T-shirt.