It's in His Kiss
Page 23
Becca had laughed but shaken her head. She wasn’t going to share, but it turned out that despite Sam’s silent departure, having crazy hot sex was good for a person’s frame of mind.
Real good.
Becca didn’t come up with a jingle for Diaxsis over the next few days, but she felt infinitely relaxed about it. She felt infinitely relaxed about everything, including the fact that it was time to supplement her jingle income. The only thing that could have improved her mood was a Sexy Grumpy Surfer sighting.
But she didn’t get that. Not from her window, not on the beach, not from his boat, not anywhere Sam I am . . .
She did get pizza with Olivia. And as promised, it was homemade, and out of this world. Becca learned that Olivia not only ran the vintage store but owned it, which explained her fabulous clothes. She also made a mean chocolate chip cookie, and if Sam hadn’t already rocked her world, Becca might have said the cookies were better than orgasms. As it was, the cookies were a close second.
But though they’d spent several hours together, Olivia didn’t open up much, and her eyes stayed hooded.
Olivia had secrets.
As Becca had her own, she hadn’t pushed.
She spent a few days perusing the want ads and cleaning up her space, making it a home. She realized that said a lot about Lucky Harbor being more than a so-called pit stop, but she wasn’t going to feel bad for loving it here.
Three days after her night with Sam, she’d unwrapped a new—to her—lamp and couch she’d bought from Olivia’s shop and was lugging the paper the lamp had been wrapped in to the Dumpster when she realized Sam was there with his shop vac. He was emptying the bag when he caught her staring. He stared right back like maybe he liked what he saw. He did that, she’d noticed, showed his appreciation in nonverbal ways. With his eyes. His slow, sexy smile. The sound he made deep in his throat when he—
“Hey,” he said.
Wherever he’d been, he’d gotten some sun and, as usual, looked good enough to eat. “Hey yourself.” She turned to go.
“About the other night,” he said to her back. “I didn’t mean to vanish on you. I got called out on a job that took me away for a few days. And out of cell range.”
She had to admit that she’d wondered if he’d disappeared to distance himself from what had proven to be an explosive chemistry between them. At the realization that this wasn’t what had happened, something loosened in her chest. Relief. She hadn’t scared him off. “You’re covered in sawdust,” she said inanely.
He looked down. “Got home late last night and went right to work on a boat I’m building for another client.” He shifted closer and stroked a thumb over her jaw. “You okay?”
Something about his proximity made her a little speechless, so she nodded.
His eyes never left hers as he appeared to search for the truth in this statement. He sifted his fingers through her hair, gently gliding his thumb beneath her eye. “Your bruise is gone.”
“Yes, and I’ve grounded myself from reading my e-reader at night.”
He flashed that dangerous smile, which faded some when his cell buzzed. “Talk,” he said into it, and then listened a moment. “Cole already left? Shit. Did you flush out the engine? Check the water pump? Yeah? It’s got good water flow? The water hot or warm?” He listened some more. “Sounds like something’s stuck in the outflow tube. Shut it down, I’ll be there in ten.” He ended the call.
“Problem?” she asked.
“There always is.”
“And you’re the go-to guy?”
“At the moment,” he said, master of short sentences. He looked at her then. Like really looked at her, in a way no one else ever seemed to. “How’s the jingle writing going?”
She mimed hanging herself with a rope.
He smiled. “Need another Band-Aid?”
The words were like a hot caress, and she felt her ni**les react hopefully. “You have an engine problem requiring your attention,” she reminded him.
“There’s always time for a break.”
She laughed. Spoken like a man. “I’d have my mind on work,” she said.
He flashed her a very bad-boy smile. “Becca, I can promise you, your mind wouldn’t be on work.”
Her pulse took a hard leap at yet another promise. “I suppose everyone’s entitled to a little bit of a break now and again,” she said softly. “Right?”
His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, just as a car tore into the lot. A woman leapt out, slammed her door, and went hands on curvy hips as she tossed back her long blond hair. “So you are alive,” she said, glaring at Sam.
“Selena.” His voice was so carefully neutral that Becca took a second look at him. His expression, fun and sexy only a moment before, was now closed off.
The woman standing in front of them was tall, leggy, and built like Barbie. Beachy Barbie. She wore a red-and-white sundress that looked so good she might have walked right off the runway and gave Becca a hard, speculative look before turning to Sam. “That was fast.”
Becca knew she should’ve been insulted, but actually she was secretly tickled pink if this beautiful creature was jealous of her.
“I’ve called you like twenty-five times and left you a bunch of texts,” Selena said to Sam. “Your phone broken?”
“No,” he said.
Becca waited for him to explain. He’d been gone for a few days, out of range, yet he didn’t say a word in his defense.
Real good.
Becca didn’t come up with a jingle for Diaxsis over the next few days, but she felt infinitely relaxed about it. She felt infinitely relaxed about everything, including the fact that it was time to supplement her jingle income. The only thing that could have improved her mood was a Sexy Grumpy Surfer sighting.
But she didn’t get that. Not from her window, not on the beach, not from his boat, not anywhere Sam I am . . .
She did get pizza with Olivia. And as promised, it was homemade, and out of this world. Becca learned that Olivia not only ran the vintage store but owned it, which explained her fabulous clothes. She also made a mean chocolate chip cookie, and if Sam hadn’t already rocked her world, Becca might have said the cookies were better than orgasms. As it was, the cookies were a close second.
But though they’d spent several hours together, Olivia didn’t open up much, and her eyes stayed hooded.
Olivia had secrets.
As Becca had her own, she hadn’t pushed.
She spent a few days perusing the want ads and cleaning up her space, making it a home. She realized that said a lot about Lucky Harbor being more than a so-called pit stop, but she wasn’t going to feel bad for loving it here.
Three days after her night with Sam, she’d unwrapped a new—to her—lamp and couch she’d bought from Olivia’s shop and was lugging the paper the lamp had been wrapped in to the Dumpster when she realized Sam was there with his shop vac. He was emptying the bag when he caught her staring. He stared right back like maybe he liked what he saw. He did that, she’d noticed, showed his appreciation in nonverbal ways. With his eyes. His slow, sexy smile. The sound he made deep in his throat when he—
“Hey,” he said.
Wherever he’d been, he’d gotten some sun and, as usual, looked good enough to eat. “Hey yourself.” She turned to go.
“About the other night,” he said to her back. “I didn’t mean to vanish on you. I got called out on a job that took me away for a few days. And out of cell range.”
She had to admit that she’d wondered if he’d disappeared to distance himself from what had proven to be an explosive chemistry between them. At the realization that this wasn’t what had happened, something loosened in her chest. Relief. She hadn’t scared him off. “You’re covered in sawdust,” she said inanely.
He looked down. “Got home late last night and went right to work on a boat I’m building for another client.” He shifted closer and stroked a thumb over her jaw. “You okay?”
Something about his proximity made her a little speechless, so she nodded.
His eyes never left hers as he appeared to search for the truth in this statement. He sifted his fingers through her hair, gently gliding his thumb beneath her eye. “Your bruise is gone.”
“Yes, and I’ve grounded myself from reading my e-reader at night.”
He flashed that dangerous smile, which faded some when his cell buzzed. “Talk,” he said into it, and then listened a moment. “Cole already left? Shit. Did you flush out the engine? Check the water pump? Yeah? It’s got good water flow? The water hot or warm?” He listened some more. “Sounds like something’s stuck in the outflow tube. Shut it down, I’ll be there in ten.” He ended the call.
“Problem?” she asked.
“There always is.”
“And you’re the go-to guy?”
“At the moment,” he said, master of short sentences. He looked at her then. Like really looked at her, in a way no one else ever seemed to. “How’s the jingle writing going?”
She mimed hanging herself with a rope.
He smiled. “Need another Band-Aid?”
The words were like a hot caress, and she felt her ni**les react hopefully. “You have an engine problem requiring your attention,” she reminded him.
“There’s always time for a break.”
She laughed. Spoken like a man. “I’d have my mind on work,” she said.
He flashed her a very bad-boy smile. “Becca, I can promise you, your mind wouldn’t be on work.”
Her pulse took a hard leap at yet another promise. “I suppose everyone’s entitled to a little bit of a break now and again,” she said softly. “Right?”
His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, just as a car tore into the lot. A woman leapt out, slammed her door, and went hands on curvy hips as she tossed back her long blond hair. “So you are alive,” she said, glaring at Sam.
“Selena.” His voice was so carefully neutral that Becca took a second look at him. His expression, fun and sexy only a moment before, was now closed off.
The woman standing in front of them was tall, leggy, and built like Barbie. Beachy Barbie. She wore a red-and-white sundress that looked so good she might have walked right off the runway and gave Becca a hard, speculative look before turning to Sam. “That was fast.”
Becca knew she should’ve been insulted, but actually she was secretly tickled pink if this beautiful creature was jealous of her.
“I’ve called you like twenty-five times and left you a bunch of texts,” Selena said to Sam. “Your phone broken?”
“No,” he said.
Becca waited for him to explain. He’d been gone for a few days, out of range, yet he didn’t say a word in his defense.
