But Laura hadn’t sounded like she'd been referring to the three of them going to concerts and partying. Nope, the way her voice had gone all low and throaty, she was making it sound like her time with Dom and Taylor had been way more than that.
I squirmed in my seat, then cleared my throat and tried to clean out my dirty mind. Getting back to business, I asked her if she’d be interested in taking a look at Aunt Tabitha’s place. When Laura explained she wasn’t taking on new clients because she had a newborn at home, I was surprised. Had Taylor known she’d had a baby?
“I see,” I said. “Sorry to have wasted your time. Congratulations on the little one.”
“Thank you. She’s a real charmer, like her daddy. He was one of my clients a little over a year ago and things went from zero to sixty. First I’m showing some hot guy a house, and the next thing I know, I’m walking down the aisle in a white dress and ditching my birth control. Hard to believe your life can change so fast.”
I laughed along with her, but a tingle sizzled up my spine as I imagined that moment in Tabitha’s bedroom, when I’d been in a towel, with Taylor standing so close to me. Then mymind flipped to Dom, and the tingle heated like the flicker offire.
It took me a moment to realize Laura was still on the line. “It was nice chatting and going down memory lane,” she said, hastily adding, “Hey, look up another real estate agent by the name of Logan Raider. He’s friends with Taylor and Dom. He might be able to help you out.”
I jotted down the name before thanking her and hanging up.
So much for my first task of the day. Did I cross off Call Real Estate Agent, or leave it blank?
A loud knock at the front door startled me. I got up from the kitchen counter toanswer it. I barely managed to open the door when Dom ploughed past, marched straight into my house, and with his muscular arm practically shaking, pointed up at the ceiling.
“Do you know how rare original crown molding from the late eighteen hundreds is?” he asked me.
Dumbfounded, I alternated between glancing up at the ceiling and back at him, my mouth gaping open. His hair was a tangled mess, as if he’d been tugging at it on the drive over. In whatever mad fury he’d been in, he hadn’t even taken the time to button his flannel shirt, which meant I could see his carved abs moving with every one of his frustrated breaths.
When I’d first met Dom he was reserved, quiet, broody. But it was clear to me then that he had a whole different side to him: a wild, untamed, hot blooded side. An animal side. Taylor was smooth like honey. Dom was like a whiskey that would punch you in the mouth when you were least expecting it.
I found his intensity yummy. Maybe it was because of what Laura had said, that Dom was a protector, or maybe it was because my gut trusted him, or maybe it was because his muscles flexed and bunched—
“Do you not see these floors?” He dropped to his knee on the hardwood floors and ran his hand over the surface.
I couldn’t focus because when he kneeled, his jeans pulled tight over his crotch and I was fairly certain I could see both his size and girth. It made my mouth dry. I tried my best to pay attention to what he was saying about original installation and the best valley oak he’d seen and sanding and buffing and stains and ruining the integrity of the character, but it made it difficult every time he said “wood,” and he said it a lot.
“Don’t you see that you can’t let just anyone work on wood like this?” he asked loudly, impatiently.
“Umm…”
Before I could mumble out some nonsense, he stood and stalked out of the foyer, boots thundering. I found myself grinning. Dom in a mood wasn’t scaring me—quite the opposite. How awesome it must be to be this passionate about something. The last time I’d felt passion like this was…well…never, really.
“The stained glass in this reading nook? Can’t you see it’s worth preserving, protecting, caring for?” I heard him call from halfway across the house. That man could move fast.
He appeared again from the living room. “The staircase, this railing. It’s beat up, sure, but all it needs is some devotion and it’ll be fine. You can’t throw it away.”
I sobered. Somehow I suspected Dom’s current intensity wasn’t entirely about my aunt’s house and his interest in protecting it. This was personal.
“If you sell this house,” Dom said, turning to me, “someone will either tear it down to the studs and replace everything as cheaply as possible to make a quick buck, or they’ll tear it down entirely.”
I sighed. “So I’m guessing Taylor told you about our text conversation. That I’m selling, not renovating.”
“Damn straight, he did. He also told me you were sick with pneumonia when Tabitha died. That I was…” He growled and ran his hands through his hair.
“That you were what?” I said, not sure what my having pneumonia had to do with anything.
“Nothing. Never mind. But Kayla, I can’t believe you intend to sell the house. To leave Fosterman just when you got here.”
Dom was breathing heavily and I couldn’t help but imagine that as out of control and wild as he seemed at the moment, he must look even more so after a particularly athletic round of intercourse. Perhaps on the kitchen table…
Focus, Kayla. Focus.
“Did Taylor tell you why I have to sell the house?”
“Yeah, it’s bullshit.”