“Having your hands on me is the ideal way to go.”
She stopped on a dime, gave him a prim look that made his fly feel tight . . . and then she started to dump one of the coffees on the ground.
“You’re going to feel real guilty when you find out I brought you a brownie with pink sprinkles.”
Her wrist twisted, saving a couple inches of coffee from spilling out. “You did?”
Wes hummed an affirmation. “To match those pants that make your buns look all tight and sexy.”
With a slow shake of her head, she finished dumping the contents of the cup on the ground. “I can’t believe I let you kiss me.”
“We did more than kiss and you want to do it again.”
Continuing her journey toward the back of the house, she threw him a snort over her shoulder. “It’s sad how delusional you are.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“Not unless you want this coffee on your head.” She slowed to a halt in front of the frames he’d spent the morning building. “When did this happen?”
Wes came up beside her and let their shoulders brush. Let himself take a whiff of her magnolia scent. “Told you I’d make up for the time I lost yesterday. I keep my word.”
“So you do.” Her light brows pulled together. “Who took Laura to school?”
Her concern for his niece and her routine bled warmth into his chest. “Outlander Ringtone is an early riser. She was excited for the company.”
“Oh. Good.” Bethany firmed her shoulders, her gaze dancing up to meet his and flitting away just as fast. But not before he saw that she remembered last night, every beat of it. The way he’d nibbled on her delicious tits until she came, the way their mouths felt like they’d been reunited after a long absence. She remembered and was in the middle of being thrown for a loop, same as him. “Well, um . . . the window guy is here to take measurements. I guess I better get to work.”
Wes nodded, reluctant to part ways with her. “Okay.”
She turned toward the house, but made no move to go inside. “Wes?”
He followed her line of vision to where a cameraman was taking a panning shot of the backyard, including them in it. “Yes?”
“Is this going all right?” She gestured to the house. “Everything?”
By sheer force of will, he stopped himself from reaching for her. Burying her face in his neck and talking away her worry. Jesus, he loved this woman asking him for reassurance. “It’s going just fine, Bethany.”
She turned to him with her lip caught between her teeth. “Fine?”
“Renovations are messy right up until the last stroke of paint, baby. That’s just how it goes,” he said. “That’s . . . hard for you?”
Her nod was slight. “It has to be perfect.”
Tell me everything. Lay it on me. “Why?”
“Why what?” she asked, confused. “Why does it have to be perfect? Because that’s what people expect from me. It’s what I expect from myself.”
“Well, don’t. Expecting perfect can only lead to disappointment. Besides, it’s the flaws that give a person character. That’s where the beauty hides.”
She seemed to chew that over and disregard it. “We’re talking about the house, not a person.”
“Right.” He caught her hand trembling and frowned. Upon studying her closer, he noticed the little red patch of skin on her neck. Without thinking, he reached up and brushed it with the pads of his fingers. “What’s this?”
Quickly, she stepped out of his reach. “Nothing. Just some irritation.”
“It wasn’t there last night. I remember every inch you showed me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Then let me see it.” She rolled her eyes at him and cocked a sassy hip, but went still as a statue when he came closer, easing down the collar of her white cotton T-shirt. Outwardly, he gave no reaction, but a tractor plowed through his middle, turning over soil. “You do this to yourself, darlin’?”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s just a stress thing.”
“When things aren’t going perfect.”
“Yes. Sometimes.” He heard her swallow. “All the time.”
The plow dug deeper. It killed him to know he’d once believed she had it all together, when in actuality, she’d needed someone to confide in. She wasn’t cool and unflappable the way people assumed. Not by a damn stretch. “I’ve got a first-aid kit in my truck. Let me put something on it and then you’ll leave it the hell alone for the day.”
“Don’t boss me around.”
Honesty made his voice raw. “I don’t like seeing this mark on you.”
Her lips parted on a puff of breath. “You can’t see it unless you get really close, but people will be able to see a bandage if you put one on. It’ll peek out.”
“Who cares?”
“I do,” she muttered. “I do.”
There was a lot going on here. Wes wanted to know every doubt and insecurity in her head, but he suspected if he pushed any more, she’d dig in her heels. In fact, he was going to be grateful for as much as she’d revealed this morning. He was willing to bet she didn’t do that with many people, if anyone. But she’d done it for the man she’d once claimed to hate.
It’s complicated, indeed.
“Just some salve, then, all right?”
She gave him a grudging nod and Wes led her to his truck, a hand on the small of her back. He kept an eye on her while retrieving the kit, in case she tried to make a break for it. She settled for drinking coffee and looking impatient instead, but he could see through her. Giving him access to the red blemish probably hadn’t been easy for her and he was . . . humbled.
A lot like he’d been last night when Laura said I love you.
These females were carving him up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
He wanted to kiss this one in the worst way, though, and the resulting knots in his stomach made his fingers unsteady as he applied the salve to the smooth base of her neck. But he’d never been a coward. Not a single day in his life. Plus she’d given him a strip of pride by letting him fix up her neck. Now it was his turn. “At the risk of complicating this more, Bethany, I want to take you out.”
“What?”
“Don’t act like it’s some crazy-ass notion. You’d have let me take you to bed last night if I hadn’t sent you home.”
She gaped at him, but Wes could see gratitude in her eyes. This woman preferred sparring over coddling and he’d given her a way to stomach the latter. “I went home voluntarily, thank you very much. But even if I’d stayed, it’s a huge leap—huge—to land on dating.”
“I didn’t say dating. I said a date. But if you insist we’re dating, I’m not going to contradict you.”
“Were you working with polyurethane this morning? Did you sniff it?”
Wes laughed. “So you’re telling me you need some convincing.”
Bethany moved out of his reach. “I am not encouraging that.”
“You said it’s complicated, baby. Heard it plain as day.”
“I meant you give me indigestion.”