Page 93 of Single-Minded
Her shop was nearly done as well, at least regarding my part of the project. We planned to finish the fixtures, cabinet pulls, and last items tomorrow. She’d be receiving the furnishings and supplies over the next week or two, and then she’d be ready to open.
The fact was, she was done with my construction services.
It was time for us to be done with…us.
Since Nova’s injury, my daughters had talked nonstop about her—Miss Presley this and Miss Presley that. After only a few hours with her, they were getting attached, as my mom had pointed out they were apt to do.
My body tensed every time I thought about it, until I reminded myself no damage had been done. Yet.
I’d reassured them, after Sienna’s marriage question Friday night, that Miss Presley was just being friendly while I worked for her. That we’d probably see her around town from time to time, but she was just a casual acquaintance.
“Hey, you,” Presley said drowsily, her eyes opening halfway. The wall of windows facing the lake let in full moonlight tonight, allowing me to see her beautiful face. “Why don’t you stay over? We can move to my bed.”
Shit.
There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to spend the night in her bed, wake up with her in my arms, go down on her before her eyes were open. That’s what I did…I rushed in. When my dick was involved, my brain took a back seat.
“We should probably talk,” I said in a quiet voice, as if maybe it would only suck half as much if I said what I had to say quietly.
“Yeah?” Her lips stretched into a sleepy smile, telling me she wasn’t reading me right.
I closed my eyes for a moment and inhaled the scent of her hair that brushed over me, as if I could stock up on her softness. Then I forced myself to sit up and settle near her feet. I tossed the ridiculously soft throw blanket her way in case she wanted to cover up and pulled on my boxer briefs.
Presley sat up and pulled the blanket around her. “What’s going on, West?”
“We haven’t talked about what happens now that my work here is done.”
“Right. I was thinking about that earlier,” she said.
“We need to cut ties, Presley. I’m not in the position to test-drive a real relationship.”
She frowned. “I didn’t know this was fake.”
Hell, two sentences in and it was already coming out wrong.
“It’s not fake. But it’s secret, and there’s a reason for that,” I said.
“Your kids,” she said, frowning. “I like your daughters, West. I thought we got along pretty well last Friday. Did they not?—”
“My daughters are big fans of you, which is the problem.”
“You’re breaking it off with me because your daughters like me?”
“I’ve explained why, Presley.”
“You don’t want them to get hurt in your breakups. So if they like me and you’re getting rid of me, won’t they be upset?”
“They know you as my client and friend. They haven’t moved you into the mother figure slot yet.” They’d been headed down that path though. After basically one evening with her.
Wrapping the blanket more tightly around her, Presley moved closer to me on the sectional, facing me. “What if I told you…”
I met her gaze in the moonlight, her pretty eyes reflecting earnestness and insecurity at once as I waited for her to finish her thought.
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, West.”
Ah, fuck.
I’d known this was going to suck, but the thought of hurting Presley wrenched my gut. My lids lowered as I tried not to think too hard about her declaration or what it could mean if I were in a different situation.
