Page 32 of Burn Point

I looked up to see him swing a mallet up to prop on his shoulder.

It was quick work to get the floor laid. Nate patiently taught me how to score the pieces that needed cutting. Then he took the pressure off me using power tools, and just did it. I was sitting cross-legged on my new flooring, grinning like a fool when he stretched his long body across the floor, leaning on one hip, his head propped on a hand. If he were anyone else, if he were mine, I’d slide across the floor and climb on top of him, forcing him to his back.

“You alright there, Skip? You looked kind of flushed. Did I work you too hard?”

I’d like to see just how hard you could work me.

The thought had me flushing harder.

And Nate, that asshole, just grinned like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“I’m fine. Just admiring this new wood flooring.”

“Oh, you’re admiring something. But it’s not the floor,” he teased, a haughty little glint in his eye.

Cheeky bastard.

I scowled, flipping a rag at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to go, someone else you can bother?”

He caught the rag before it hit him in the face. He rose, a devilish smile playing about his lips, pulling the rag through his hand. He stalked toward me, and I was fully caught in his predatory gaze. In another life, he’d be bearing down on me, and he’d trap me up against the counter, leaning his weight on his hands, crowding me with the heat of him. But we weren’t like that and too late I realized he’d played me. Caught up in his sex appeal, I’d let him get the upper hand. I spun as he flipped the rag back at me, except he held an end of it, so it popped me right on the butt cheek.

“I like bothering you.” Wasn’t that the truth. He seemed to love pestering me. The truth was… I liked that about him. If I were staying, I wouldn’t hesitate to take our teasing to the next level. Naked teasing with Nate sounded amazing.

But I wasn’t staying. I was leaving, and he’d move on, probably with that Mary Catherine chick who seemed to find reasons to text him all the time.

I made a grab for the rag, which he deftly dodged and bolted through the door. I ended up chasing him through the yard, eventually giving up when he cleared a fence in one single athletically graceful move. He stood at the wood fence—the rolling pasture making the perfect backdrop—with his bare chest heaving, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, laughing his deep rumbly chuckle.

“Truce,” I called, bent over with my hands on my knees.

Nate climbed the wooden fence, swinging one long leg over and then the other, before perching on the top board and hooking his boots on the middle rung. I wanted to press myself between those widespread legs. My gaze traveled over his torso to find his heated eyes on me.

He probably wasn’t trying to deliberately be so tempting. Probably. But damn if he wasn’t a tasty looking man. Any fool could see that.

And I needed to get this van completed because Nate and I were becoming fast friends. Deliciously tempting friends. The kind of friends who blistered each other with long looks. The kind of friends who wanted benefits.

Somewhere in the distance a cell phone rang, breaking the spell.

Nate jumped down and took me in a headlock as we headed back to the van.

“Ew, sweaty armpits! Gross!” I playfully pushed him away, my hands pressing against those ripped abs. That forbidden touch reminding me how easily it would be to let down my guard, change my plans and just let myself have this time with this man.

He grabbed his phone, and I walked to the van to give him some privacy, and to gather my wits. I’d never been able to do casual sex, and I didn’t want to ruin this new friendship by dragging sex into the mix, so I needed to get my newly rekindled libido in check.

I busied myself inside, cleaning up from our workday, when his head appeared in the doorway. “You wanna have a cookout tonight? I was thinking of inviting everyone over.”

“Sure, that sounds like fun.”

“Good deal.” He heaved a huge breath in and let it out. “Come on, help me drag out the corn hole boards from the shed.”

A couple of hours later, the sun painted the sky in vibrant orange and pink. Soft music played on a speaker, accompanied by the early spring nighttime sounds. Nate had invited Mike and Leah, Thoren and his girlfriend Bunny.

I’d given everyone a tour of the van project, and the boys were fascinated. Mike braced a palm on the doorway and dipped his head inside, talking to Thoren, who was sitting in the front seat but angled to see the back.

Nate was at the back of the van, discussing the options for power with the other two men.

I felt a brush at my elbow and turned as Leah slipped her hand through my arm.

“I’m really proud of you,” she said. Her sweet husky voice held a smile.

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