She rejoins us in the office. “Thank you. If you don’t mind bringing him to the bakery in the morning, I would appreciate it.” A whole heap of emotions passes through her eyes. Appreciation for sure, but also resignation and maybe weariness. She knows she needs the help, even if it’s hard to admit.
“What time do you want him there?” I ask, forcing myself to stand where I am and not pull her into my arms.
“Is seven too early? That way he’ll be there to help with the morning rush that usually hits around seven thirty.”
“Seven is fine.”
“But if you’re not heading into work at that time, it can be later. Whatever’s easiest for you.”
“Lyndee.” When she looks up, I continue. “It’s fine. I’ll have him there at seven. There’s plenty of stuff for me to do at work before I start prepping for lunch.”
She nods. “Thank you.” Once everything is in place, she looks to her brother. “We’ll let you get ready for bed. If you need anything, holler. Or text. I’ll have my phone with me.”
Her brother just rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine, sis, but thank you. See you both in the morning.” Dustin heads for the bathroom with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.
Lyndee and I slip out of the office, carefully shutting the door behind us as we go. “Let’s get your things upstairs.”
I’m able to carry her bags, leading the way up to the second floor. “The guest room is here, but you’re more than welcome to take my room. The bed is much bigger and a hell of a lot more comfortable.”
“This is fine,” she insists, setting her purse down on the full-sized bed. “I just appreciate having a place to stay.”
I deposit her belongings onto the floor beside the dresser. “There’s a Jack and Jill bathroom through there,” I add, pointing to the open door, “And you’re welcome to use the dresser. There should be plenty of space in the closet too. Though, I’m not sure what might be in there.” I run my hands through my hair, feeling a bit off-kilter. What is it about this woman that gets under my skin? Makes me all antsy and anxious.
I’m not even sure when she moved, but the next thing I know, she’s standing directly in front of me. She reaches out and places a small hand on my arm. I almost jump from the shocks of electricity, but make sure to hold completely still as to not dislodge her touch. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate it more than you know.”
I clear my dry throat. “You’re welcome. I’m happy to help, Lyndee.”
She tosses a small smile my way like a grenade. I’m not prepared for the effect it has on me. My heart starts to hammer in my chest and things start to stir to life in my pants. It’s not just an attraction I feel, but something headier. Deeper.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good night,” I say, backing away and running into the dresser.
Smooth, Jasper.
“Night,” she murmurs, watching as I practically stumble out of the guest room and make a beeline for my bedroom down the hall. My space takes up the entire back side of the home, with the smaller two bedrooms and the Jack and Jill bathroom on the other. While the door for the gym in the other upstairs bedroom is closer to my door, I’ve never felt her presence this near before.
Even with my bedroom door closed and locked.
It’s like my body knows she’s just a few walls away, calling out and drawing me in.
I opt for a quick shower instead of going over and fucking her. Let’s be honest. That’s exactly what I’d prefer to do, but that’s not what’s going to happen here. She’s a friend. She and her brother needed help, and I offered. Who cares if it’s the first time I’ve ever really done that. My point is I’m being nice, and the last thing either of us needs right now is to complicate things with sex.
Oh, but doesn’t that sound like the best night ever.
Throwing open my closet door with a little extra force, I gather some shorts to put on after my shower. I usually sleep naked, but I don’t think this is the time to be free-balling in bed when Lyndee Gibson is just a few thin walls away. It’s going to be hard enough—pun intended—to keep my hands to myself, especially when I keep replaying that kiss over and over again. The last thing I need is to give my cock any ideas.
Shower. Bed. Sleep.
Nowhere in that equation should I be thinking about kissing Lyndee.
Should be easy enough.
***
I’ve been tossing and turning for a good hour.
Glancing at the clock for the hundredth time, I notice it’s just after midnight. I was able to steal a little sleep, but now my insomnia is wide awake and refusing to let me settle. I reached the point thirty minutes ago where I would have gotten up, but with houseguests, the last thing I need is to be banging around in the kitchen. Dustin was exhausted when he went to bed, and I refuse to be the asshole who wakes him up.
I throw my comforter off, hating the way the shorts restrict my movements. Okay, they really don’t, but when you’re used to not wearing them to bed, they feel stifling when you do wear them.
I start to pace, willing my mind to settle and sleep to return, knowing it’s completely futile at this point. I flip on the TV, making sure the volume is down low. A documentary on Michael Jordan is playing, but I’ve already seen it. Even so, I still try to focus on the basketball legend’s career, only to find I can’t concentrate. Television has never been my thing.
Cooking, yes.
Working out, sure.
Sex, absolutely.
Since the first and last on that list aren’t an option, I guess I can slip over to my home gym and try to run myself into exhaustion. That’s still no guarantee I’ll be able to sleep, but maybe it’ll help.
I forego throwing on a T-shirt and grab socks, running shoes, and my earbuds. I won’t be able to do much, in hopes of keeping the noise down, especially with Lyndee sleeping just a short distance away.
Quietly, I tiptoe across the hall, stopping to make sure I haven’t disturbed anyone. When I’m met with silence, I slip inside, shut the door, and bathe the room in light. Then, I get to work. As soon as my shoes are on and my buds are in my ears, I do a few stretches and hit the treadmill. I set a demanding pace, letting Mötley Crüe fuel my drive. I blow through one mile, then two, and quickly three. Sweat soaks my body, running down my face and blurring my vision. Even then, I keep going.
One grueling hour later, I finally slow the machine, praying my legs have enough strength to carry me back to my bedroom. I chug a bottle of water from the mini fridge and do one final stretch, making sure my quads and hammies are loose.
I’m on the floor, my legs spread wide as I grab my toes when movement catches out of the corner of my eye. I glance over and find Lyndee standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her wide eyes glued to my chest. “Lyndee?” I ask, whipping out my earbuds. “Is everything okay?”
“Huh?” she asks, her eyes dropping to my legs.
I can’t help but take in her own appearance. Her hair is mussed, her face void of any makeup, a T-shirt, and the cutest fuzzy lounge pants with Christmas presents all down her legs. She’s positively adorable.
And so fucking sexy.
I can’t help but grin. She has yet to look up at my face. “I asked if everything was all right.”