Page 85 of Imperfect Arrangement
A WALKING HEART ATTACK
WILLOW
My head snaps up at the loud clatter from outside, jerking me awake so fast that pain shoots down my stiff neck.
“Ouch,” I groan, rubbing at the ache. Apparently, I dozed off with my head on the desk, right in front of my laptop. The screen still shows an email from the head of planning at Elixir Estates, asking for name suggestions for the new wedding estate. I’d closed my eyes to brainstorm and somehow drifted off instead.
Can anyone blame me, though? After last night, I’m barely functioning.
What word even describes it? Crazy? Wild? Unbelievable? Yeah, let’s go with all three.
God, Raymond Teager. That man. Every second of last night replays in my mind like a never-ending movie reel.
Raymond making me lose my sanity while we worked on the cake.
Raymond pinning me against the vanity table in this very room and stealing my breath with a kiss that rewired my entire nervous system.
Raymond throwing me onto the bed and delivering the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life.
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, Raymond with that big, unexpected admission.
Whiplash doesn’t even cover it. Every time I think I’ve got him figured out, he reveals a new layer of himself, one that I never saw coming. It’s infuriating and intoxicating all at once. And it didn’t stop there.
This morning, I was in the kitchen, packing the picnic basket for me and Quill, all normal and innocent, but then he walked in. In athletic shorts, for crying out loud, that he’d paired with a T-shirt stretched so tight over his chest, like the fabric was working overtime to contain him.
Damn those legs. His calves were so thick and defined, they looked like they belonged to someone training for the NFL. My brain immediately served up fresh memories of him holding me captive against the kitchen counter the night before, turning me into a puddle of mess.
Raymond reached into the fridge for a water bottle while my hands were frozen over the packet of fresh cheese. Then right before leaving, he threw on a baseball cap, gave me a wave, and walked out. I thought I might combust with all the pent-up emotions inside me. I had to press a cold glass of water to my cheeks just to get my heart rate back to human levels. I didn’t even know I had a thing for sports models.
Correction: I havea big, stupid thingfor Raymond Teager. It doesn’t matter if he’s in a tailored suit, shirtless in track pants, or rocking gym clothes. He’s a walking heart attack, and I’m his willing victim.
But that little confession would help no one, especially me.
I told him last night that I wasn’t interested in anything serious, and he didn’t argue that he’s up for something casual. So I need to stop thinking about him all the damn time.
The loud clanging outside my window jolts me upright once again. I slam the laptop shut and spring out of the chair, heading straight for the window.
When I pop my head out, my brain short-circuits at the sight. Raymond and his cousins have apparently decided to open their own DIY hardware store right outside the steps leading to the pergola. There’s wood everywhere—stacked, scattered, you name it—along with electric saws and drills buzzing in the air. And each of them, Raymond included, is wearing a tool belt like they’re auditioning for some kind of sexy handyman calendar.
What the actual hell?
Before I can holler those exact words or pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming, there’s a knock at the door.
“Wills?”
I turn to find Daisy, glowing in a pastel green maternity dress, stepping into my room with slow, careful steps. I quickly shut the window, cutting off the view of whatever insanity is happening outside. “What’s going on out there?”
Daisy drops onto my bed with the kind of grace only a pregnant woman could pull off. She grins, clearly holding back a laugh. “Ray invited everyone over. Apparently, he needs to install some ramps around the house.”
“Ramps?” I parrot back, utterly lost.
Her grin grows wider as she points toward Captain Lick, who’s sprawled on the floor in his usual snoring glory. The lazy lump didn’t even twitch when Daisy walked in. Honestly, if dogs had a union, they’d probably vote him out for tarnishing their reputation.
“Ray mentioned to Charles and the rest of the guys that Captain Lick has trouble with stairs,” she explains casually, like this is a normal thing.
“He…he did what?” I stammer.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Daisy tilts her head, her expression far too smug. “I had a feeling you didn’t know about it. Because if you had someone doing something for you, you would’ve thrown a fit instead of just saying thank you.”
