Page 72 of Love Without Control

“Thanks, wife,” I told her before kissing the tip of her nose. “Why don’t you shower first?”Because I have a giant boner that needs to go down before I can get out of this bed.

Thirty minutes later, I was across the street at Charlisse’s house while the ladies made breakfast. In the light of day, the sight was chilling. The tree had fallen directly on her bed. If she and Cooper hadn’t been in the closet…

“Hey, you need protective gear if you’re gonna be in here,” a man with a clipboard said, rapping his knuckles against his hardhat for emphasis. “We can talk outside.”

I led the way to the front porch where we stood in the shade. “I’m Dane. My wife and I live across the street.”

“George Baron,” he said, shaking my hand before removing his hat. “Are you related to the home’s resident? Miss…” He consulted his clipboard. “Miss Michaels?”

“She’s a friend and neighbor. She and her son are staying with us until their house is done. I’m assuming you’re the contractor?”

“Yep.” He ran a hand over his jaw, which was covered with salt-and-pepper stubble. “Her insurance company contacted us. Fourth house this morning, and I’ve got five more to get to today.”

“How long will it take before this house is livable again?” I gave two sharp knocks against the doorframe.

“The work here should take about a month once we get started on it, but like I said, I have several houses in front of hers.”

“I understand that,” I said, lowering my voice and putting on my metaphorical businessman hat. “But how much will it cost me to get Miss Michaels’s house moved to the front of the line?”

He shrugged. “It’s only fair that I go in the order I assessed them.”

I stuck my hands in the pockets of my cargo shorts and rocked back onto my heels as my eyes locked onto his. “Look, George. My wife and I are newlyweds, and while I like Charlisse and her son, I would appreciate them getting back to their own home as soon as possible. Do you get my meaning?”

A sly grin took over his face. “Totally understandable, Dane. But like I said…”

“You seem like a smart businessman, so I have a business proposition for you.” His forehead furrowed, but I didn’t let that deter me. “If you get this house done in three weeks, you’ll receive a little… bonus for your efforts.”

He lifted an intrigued—and very bushy—eyebrow. “A bonus?”

“How does ten thousand sound?”

“D-dollars?” he stuttered.

My head tilted to the side. “I’m very motivated, George. Three weeks. Ten grand.” My gaze turned into a cold glare that had frozen many a man in place, and I watched George’s throat work in a hard swallow.Could he read me? Did he know what I really was on the inside? Is he afraid of me?“And I do expect your best work. I’ll have an independent contractor check everything over to make sure it’s done to my satisfaction.”

“I…” His beady brown eyes darted around the yard, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m a legitimate business owner, Dane.”

“As am I, George. Nothing shady going on here.” Okay, maybe that was stretching it a teeny bit, but what-the-fuck-ever. Eden needed to be comfortable in her own home, and I was going to make it happen. “This is simply a bonus for a job well done. Quickly.”

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his jaw once again. “Three weeks?”

“Not a second more.”

He propped his clipboard on his ample belly and scrawled something there before looking back up at me. “You got yourself a deal.”

George was true to his word, and on a mid-October evening, exactly twenty days later, Charlisse and her son moved back into their home. It actually belonged to her parents and they had great insurance, so she only had to pay a deductible. The work was impeccable, and I transferred the money to a very happy George.

Charlisse and Cooper had been excellent houseguests. The kid had energy out the wazoo, that was for damn sure, but his mom insisted on helping out around the house, cooking dinner several nights a week.

Once I’d helped them carry the last of their personal belongings back to their house, I felt a hint of bittersweet energy course through me. Though I was glad things would return to normal, it also meant I no longer had an excuse to sleep in Eden’s bed.

A devilish voice inside my brain whispered,You don’t need an excuse. She’s your wife, remember?

I let that thought settle in, gelling into an ill-formed plan as Eden and I ate dinner and watched a movie. Then we got ready for bed.

When she came out of the shower, dressed in a purple T-shirt and tiny sleep shorts that always made my eyes bulge, I was lying on her bed with the covers pulled up around my waist. Just like I had been for the past few weeks, as if nothing had changed.

Her mouth dropped into a tiny O, an indentation forming between her eyebrows as she processed what she was seeing. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and I waited for her to tell me to go to my own room.

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