Page 15 of The Plan
Chapter Four
My previous thoughtsdon’t last long, because two seconds after closing the front door, he’s all I can think about. My concern for not having anywhere to live is long forgotten and replaced by my memories of tonight, of how gentle he was, how amazing it felt to be in his arms.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim when I see myself in the mirror above the basin. I look like a hot mess. My mascara is all smudged under my eyes from where I was crying, and my hair is all over the place. My nice smooth curls are long gone, thanks to the sea breeze and misty air. Fuck knows why he was looking at me the way he was when I look like this.
I make quick work of removing my remaining makeup and attempt to tame my hair, but nothing short of a shower and half a tub of conditioner is going to touch it. I pull my pyjamas on before making up the sofabed.
I’m still tossing and turning with images of dark blue eyes and full lips on repeat when I hear the front door open. I hear Aunt Addy poke her head in but when she sees I’m asleep—or pretending to be—she tiptoes off to her room. I’ve no idea what the time is, but I’m not really in the mood for talking right now.
* * *
I’m up and in the shower bright and early the next morning. I’m not stupid, I know it’s my excitement about Blake being here that has me up and on edge way before the sun rises.
I spend and an obscene amount of time curling my long dark hair into loose waves and getting my face perfect. I feel like I need to make up for the mess I looked last night. I pull on a short tartan skirt over a pair of thick black tights and finish it off with a fitted cream V-neck jumper that shows off just a hint of cleavage.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Aunt Addy sings when she eventually appears, looking a little sleepy.
“Morning! Coffee?” I ask from where I’m stood pulling more cakes from the oven.
“Do you even need to ask?” she says with a laugh as I get up. “Whoa, you look nice. Do you have something planned for today?”
I suddenly feel stupid for having spent so long perfecting how I look. It’s wrong; I shouldn’t be this attracted to Blake, and I definitely shouldn’t be making this much of an effort. Moving here was meant to be for me, not so I could fall for the first man I see.
I’m too busy giving myself a talking to to hear his van pull up and the door behind me open.
“Mornin’, ladies,” a deep voice says from behind me, making my heart jump into my throat. I feel tingles run up my spine. Putting the cake down, I turn around and find exactly what I was expecting—Blake’s eyes leisurely running down my legs.
“Morning, Blake. Addison’s just putting the kettle on. You want one before you turn our power off?” she says, momentarily distracting him from me
“Please,” he confirms as his eyes come back to me.
“Are you okay to hang on ten minutes, Blake? I just need a quick shower.”
“Of course. I moved a few things around so I’ve got all day here. Thought I could have a look at that fence you mentioned.”
Aunt Addy quickly spins on her heels and rushes towards the bathroom. Blake watches her go and I look away as I try to muster up the brain power to not come across as affected by him as I really am.
I know the second his eyes come back to me. I feel it. I take a small step back until my bum hits the counter, and put my palms on the side. Something tells me I’m going to need it to help support me when I look up. I take a deep breath before raising my eyes. They immediately connect with his. Blake’s eyes a dark and glittering under the spotlights above us. The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile before his eyes drop again to run down my body.
Holy shit, his stare ignits me. I squeeze the counter as I feel warmth rush between my legs. His whispered words from last night come back to me, telling me I was beautiful. I try to keep my breathing in check but I don’t know if I’m successful, because this man somehow has the power to make reality disappear.
He steps closer to me and his fresh just-from-the-shower scent along with his unique smell fills my senses. I have no idea what he’s about to do but he’s close enough that it could be anything. My breathing increases as I fight between how badly I want him to do something verses how he really shouldn’t be doing anything, especially in Aunt Addy’s kitchen.
He leans in so close to me that I feel the scratch of his beard against my cheek. I’m pretty confident I contain the moan but I can’t be totally sure. I close my eyes and will my body under control. I’m just being stupid; no man has been this kind and thoughtful to me for years—plus, he’s incredibly hot, but this isn’t what this is about. He doesn’t want me. He’s a widowed single parent; there’s no way he has time for anything else in his life. I’m just lonely, and let’s face it: it’s been a long time since I saw any action worth taking note of. I’m just desperate.
His chest presses lightly against my breasts, his hardness to my softness, and I’m pretty sure that moan I was trying to keep locked down bubbles up as he brushes my nipples.
And then he’s gone.
I blink a couple of times as I try to bring myself back to earth and when I look over, I see him pouring boiling water into three mugs—three mugs that live in the cupboard behind my head.
“Shit.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at me with a smirk on his face. He looks into my eyes for a second before I see them drop. When I follow suit and look down, it’s obvious what he’s staring at. It’s like my nipples are trying to break through my jumper to get to him.
“White, one sugar,” I mutter before running from the room. I don’t miss the deep chuckle that sends lightning bolts around my body. Damn him and his sexy deep eyes, scruffyjaw, and full lips.
I sit myself down on the edge of the sofa while I stare ahead, although I don’t see what’s in front of me. The image in my head is of Blake stood in the kitchen in those tight ripped jeans, and a t-shirt like looks like it’s been painted on, it’s so bloody tight.
