Page 28 of Contingently Yours
Pulling back, I stare at Lucas’ flushed face. The rosy tint above his beard isn’t from his time in the sun. The way his chest is heaving isn’t from pulling in that fish. He’s a fuse, and I was the flame. His hand is still clutching my shoulder like he’s still lost in our angry kiss. My God, the man is putty in my hands. I don’t know what to do with this information, nor the tightening in my balls, but I’m still a professional, damn it.
Releasing my grip from his sweaty waist, I give his cheek a pat to smack him out of his fog. It might be a tad self-serving, given my peculiar fascination with the way it makes the flesh in his cheeks quiver.
“That’s how I get him to bring the big ones home to his man,” I tell our client, ignoring the breathiness in my voice.
Clearing my throat, I turn and flash Dario a smile. It’s now that I notice the bucket by his feet, filled with water and several other fish.
“Looks like you two have earned your keep for the day,” I joke, hoping it’ll put an end to their bonding time. Lucas looks discombobulated, which is just completely offensive to me. He’s the one who went back for seconds. Is he regretting it now?Giving him a slap on the ass jolts his attention back to me. “You going to go cook these up for our guests, sweetheart?”
It takes him ten awkward seconds to respond. “Um…y-yeah. I-I can do that.”
“Great. Should we go tell the boys?” I ask Dario, not waiting, as I start back down the dock.
“Yeah. Let me just help with the poles.”
“Ah. Leave it. Lucas loves to play with his tackle. Don’t you, babe?”
If looks could kill. Luckily, he gets his shit together in time and manages a smile for Dario, waving him on.
After a cold shower and making drinks for the Hepperlys, I’m confident I’ve put the newest incident well enough behind me. That is until my boyfriend starts scuttling food out from the kitchen. Food that smells delicious. The bastard can actually cook?
The guys fawn over the delicious aromas, but I’m too stunned to care. My attention is snared by the professional-looking display of Lucas’ handiwork. He literally caught, killed, cooked, and served this entire meal, and it looks like something I’ve paid for in a five-star restaurant. Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen a man in an apron before that I can recall, but my gaze is fixated on how that white fabric is cinched around his waist each time he hurries back into the kitchen like his life depends on taking care of us. He seems to be good at that—taking care of people. No way would I have hauled all that luggage he’s carted around if he’d thrown me under the bus the way I did to him.
Listen to me… One French kiss and I’m complimenting the guy. I’m such a man. Picking up my fork, I dig into the flaky seafood. It melts on my tongue, the flavor a perfect pairing with my beer.
Fine. So he hasonetolerable quality. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
When he finally quits fussing over the Hepperlys and joins us, their praise flows for his culinary prowess. A mix of pride and possessiveness swirls inside me. Neither makes any sense. I have no right to be proud of someone complimenting him like he’s an extension of me because he’s not. And possessive, well, that’s equally absurd. They’re happily married. They’re not Lucas hunting, no matter what my lapse in judgment made me think I saw on the dock today.
It’s got to be all this pretending catching up to me. Maybe I’m like one of those method actors. I’ve gone so tits to the wall with trying to make us look believable that I’ve started to catch feelings.Fakefeelings, of course. If there’s a bisexual bone in my body, it sure as shit wouldn’t have Lucas on its radar under any other circumstances.
CHAPTER 10
Lucas
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. After we fly to Boston, we’ll have three days to scope out properties before the Hepperlys meet back up with us after visiting Keenan’s mother. That means three entire days away from Andrew. And Andrew’s hands. And Andrew’s mouth.
I shudder, tugging the sheets tighter around myself, and let out a calming breath.
I kissed himagain. I swore I wouldn’t after what happened on the dock today, but it felt like we’ve set a precedent for goodnight kisses in front of the Hepperlys. I’d just finished helping the caretaker clean up after dinner and found him and the guys at the bar. Andrew was filling them in on a few of the beachfront properties we found on the coast of Massachusetts, even including one I suggested that he previously turned his nose up at, most likely for the simple fact that I chose it.
I was honestly grateful he was stealing the real estate show again. I’d barely been able to form two sentences since he surprised me on the dock earlier. So, I just stood there, nursing a beer while I let him do his thing, that captivating energy bubbling off him. He could sell a cashew farm to a person with a nut allergy. He’s…goodat what he does. Why shouldn’t he be?
The guy knows how to live and what people who have wealth look for, so of course, he picks up on selling points thatI overlook. If it wasn’t for Dario and my shared love of the outdoors, I doubt my expertise would hold any merit among the Hepperlys. Theydidlike my cooking, though.
So did Andrew.
I shouldn’t have looked over when he took that first bite, but my pride was on the defensive, waiting for some sign of disapproval. I don’t know what a man’s face looks like when he comes, but my entire body went warm seeing his when he tasted my cooking. It felt…personal. It wasmyfood he put in his mouth.Mycooking that painted his judgmental eyes with a sheen of bliss. I didn’t dare look at him again after that throughout the entire meal. There’s no way I could have, and survived it without embarrassing myself with the way he was stroking my neck again. Why is my body suddenly aware of everything that Andrew Broadhouse does?
When the Hepperlys started talking amongst themselves at the bar later, he turned to look at me, and I choked. All I could think about was his hand on my waist and how his more slender frame yanked me to him on the dock like I was a rag doll. It had lit me up inside, activating circuits I didn’t know existed. Whatever sex life I’ve ever had never involved anything rough, certainly never being manhandled. I felt…alive. Alive and a strange kind of satisfying helplessness all at the same time.
I…likedit. Or at least my body did. How could anyone like Andrew manhandling them?
“Goodnight,” I blurted before he could say anything to embarrass me. And then I leaned in…
Why the hell did I lean in? What was I thinking?
Pinching my eyes closed, I try to replay those few seconds over. No matter how many times I do, I find myself cringing.Iwent for his mouth, not the other way around.
