Page 6 of Kissing Chaos
Sure enough, as soon as I start the shower faucet, I hear the speedy clicking of nails and sliding as she chases what is hopefully just a tennis ball around the living room. The last time I left her unsupervised, I lost a slipper and a pair of ear buds.
Shaking my head at the antics I know are underway, I slip out of my work clothes, making sure to toss them into the correct hamper. Can’t have the oils and carbon dust mixing with my everyday wear. The hot water beats down on my sore muscles as I step under the shower spray and do everything possible to keep a certain brunette out of my thoughts. But every time my eyes close, the encounter consumes my senses. The smell of lavender, the softness of her hand in my calloused one, the vibrancy of her eyes. And that damn lip between her teeth.
I groan as my soaped-up hand glides lower, stroking my length firm and slow. Thoughts of pouty pink lips wrapping around me, those soft hands toying with whatever doesn’t fit, have me on the edge faster than I’d like to admit.
Until Sadie barks once and scratches at the door, successfully destroying the best illusion I’ve had to date.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I mutter. I bang my forehead on the shower wall in frustration then reach for the handle and shut off the water.
Sadie barks again, which either means she needs to go outside or someone is at the door.
I better not have unexpected company. Or a pee puddle by the door.
Quickly wrapping a large fluffy towel around my waist, I open the bathroom door and look down the hall to find Sadie sitting at the front door. Damn. Someone is here. Also, don’thate on the fluffy towel. Men can prefer comfort over efficiency, too. I learned that the hard way nearly three years ago.
“Just a minute,” I holler before running across the hall to my bedroom. I slip into the first pair of shorts I find and a gray V-neck before sprinting back to the front door. “Go lie down, girl.”
It’s none other than my tenant from the loft next door.
“Mrs. Grayson, is everything alright?”
“Oh, yes, dear. I just wanted to pass over the key. We decided to head out today instead of this weekend. The grandkids have a mid-winter break coming up, and we want to take them on an adventure.” She holds out an envelope, which I assume has the key in it. “Thanks so much for being such a wonderful landlord and gentleman. Your mama should be proud of the boy she raised.”
I take the proffered envelope and rub the back of my neck with the other hand. “I’d like to think she is, ma’am. Good luck transitioning to Florida weather.”
“Looking forward to it, Noah.” She turns and struts away, already hollering down the way to her husband. I close the front door and lean against it, looking at Sadie.
“Why couldn’t it have been a cute brunette?”
Sadie groans, and I chuckle.
“Yeah, I know. Too much to ask for her to show up here.” Oh, well. A guy can wish.
3
Jett
The drive to Havenwood isn’t terrible. Luckily, most of the interstate traffic is on the east side.
I arrive in front of the tall, gray building right off the corner of the town’s square. Okay, saying it’s tall is a bit much. It’s a three-story building. But I most definitely take the stairs to the third floor. I’ll be staying far, far away from elevators for the foreseeable future.
The sweet lady from the phone—Willa—looks to only be in her mid-thirties, but she gives off some seriously strong nurturing vibes. Her small talk about the town’s happenings helps keep my anxiety at bay as she leads me to a large office space with couches, beanbags, a desk, and a massive window that looks out toward River Haven Ranch. It isn’t a fully functional ranch anymore—too much development nearby—but someone is out ground working what must be part of the newest training group of horses.
From what my brother Reece has told me, a new group of training and sale horses comes in about this time every year, and the two brothers who run it stay busy. I’ve only crossed paths with Drew and Declan a time or two, but I trust my brother that they are decent people. I doubt he’d still be working for them after five years if they weren’t.
“Kristen is just taking a phone call and then she’ll be right in with you,” Willa says before stepping aside for me to pass through.
I just nod and give a weak “thanks” before sitting on the couch closest to the window. I slip out my phone, using the reading app to pick up where I left off in my latest romance read. The main character just found out her love interest was keeping his true motives from her, and she’s struggling with the discovery.
I can relate.
I’ve made zero progress—reading the same passage…er, sentence multiple times—when a cute, petite lady waltzes in. She has to be about my age, with white-blonde hair and the palest-blue eyes I’ve ever seen. The smile on her lips lights up every part of her being. It’s as if her happiness radiates throughout the room and is trying to sink into me through my pores. She approaches me with calculated steps, moving slowly as if closing in on a scared animal. Probably not an inaccurate comparison.
“Hi there. Jett, right? That’s what you prefer?”
I nod, trying to find my words without throwing all my brain spam at her simultaneously. “Yes, please,” I say, clearing my throat. “I hate my given name too much to use it on the regular.” I mentally chastise myself for blabbing. This lady doesn’t need my internal monologue.
“Nice to meet you, Jett. I’m Kristen. Not big on formalities around here,” she says as she makes herself comfortable in the seat across from me. Once she’s settled, she smiles again. “So, what’s got you in here today?”
