Page 62 of It's Only Love

Chapter 21

Dean came home that night and once inside, he released a deep sigh. He could smell her sweet, candy floss scent lingering from when she was here earlier. Today had been torture, so many times he’d nearly given in and reached for her. But he hadn’t, he made it a full day without grabbing Christy and slamming her up against the nearest wall. Just call me Mr. Restraint. He never struggled to keep his hands off a woman this much in his life, he had to keep reminding himself they were friends only, no funny business. He sent up another silent thanks that Beau would be back in a few days to supervise them.

He hadn’t believed her for a second about needing to come to his house because she couldn’t find her panties. But for some reason she needed to come here and he had his suspicions about why. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, excited like a kid at Christmas. He burst into his study and her scent still hovered in the air, stronger in here. Oh, she had been in here alright. He went over to the desk, the pens and notepads were still where he left them, the chair tucked under the desk. Maybe she had just looked in here for her missing panties. Then he noticed the notepad, he grabbed it and brought it closer to his face to inspect it. There were indents in the paper from her writing and he felt a flare of satisfaction unlike anything he felt before.

She came back here to write, the knowledge that she needed to come here to do that filled his chest. He ran his hand over the indentations on the paper, trying to figure out what she had written. He grabbed a pen and flicked to the page underneath and scrawled across it. She would be back, as he hoped, anticipation flooding his veins. His little writer needed to write and she could only do it here.

When she came up to him the next day with another excuse, he didn’t ask any questions. She stared up at him, nibbling her plump lower lip and shifting on the spot nervously, she was goddamn adorable. He also found it super cute – uh – reassuring that she was a shit liar. This time, she said something about dropping earrings in the house yesterday. Earrings he knew she hadn’t been wearing, but he just smiled and handed his keys over. She snatched them and scurried away, leaving him laughing to himself.

While she was gone, he worked on sanding down the old wood on the rest of the porch. It was another scorching day, although there was a slight breeze, the humidity taking a break after the storm the other night. He removed his shirt, which was getting damp from his sweat, he wondered if the scratches she left on his back had faded yet. He loved that she marked him, that he brought out that kind of passion and wildness in her. She marked him like he was hers and everyone needed to know it.

Except he wasn’t, and it was really starting to rub him up the wrong way. He wanted her back in his bed but knew he was getting too attached. He knew it couldn’t work between them and she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in repeating the performance. He scowled, shoving the thoughts away and putting his anger into his work. He loved this kind of physical labor; it was the same feeling he got when he worked on a car and vowed to spend more time doing manual work at the garage and less time with his head buried in the books.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Christy had come back. He turned to find her standing behind him, her expression unreadable.

“Hey, did you find your earrings?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at him. Then she came forward and flung herself into his arms. She plastered herself against his damp, bare chest and buried her face in his neck. His arms circled her, and he rested his cheek against the cloud of her hair, breathing in the sweet scent. She felt right, she felt like home, damn she was twisting him up inside. She pulled back slightly, their faces close together, mouths a breath apart. Her eyes were shining with emotion, he cupped her jaw and stroked over her cheek, catching a tear on the pad of his thumb.

“Thank you,” she croaked, her voice thick with emotion. He smiled down at her, she must have found his note which meant she had definitely gone to write again. A fierce possessiveness overtook him, and he squeezed her tight to him. The atmosphere around them changed, tension thickening the air. Breathing shallowly, he stroked her cheek again and her eyes dipped to his mouth, her lips parted slightly in invitation. He could feel the beat of her heart pounding against him. He wanted her, needed her but he couldn’t do this to himself, couldn’t have her only to lose her again. Resignation filling him, he squeezed her again and then set her away from him, putting space between them. A look of hurt flashed across her features before she quickly masked it.

“You’re welcome,” he replied gruffly. “You can go anytime, there’s a spare key in one of the rocks on the terrace.” She nodded and then handed back his keys.

“I better go inside and paint,” she said quietly. He stared at the porch and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She went inside, banging the kitchen door and he closed his eyes tightly, clenching his fists to stop from going after her. It was better this way, he told himself, even if it didn’t feel like it. He grabbed a hammer and started fixing the wooden slats of the porch, using more force than was necessary.

*

I’m going to kill him! Christy glared out the window at Dean, banging around on the porch. He had been in a foul mood for days, ever since she came back from “looking for her earrings” and frankly she had enough of it. She tried ignoring him which made him angry, she tried talking to him which just made him angrier. Then she asked him if he’d gotten his period which really didn’t help, she just couldn’t win.

Beau had messaged her this morning, he would be here any minute and she was glad he was back today, they needed a buffer. She went into the living room, inhaling the smell of fresh paint as she moved over to look out the window for him. She thought back to when she went to “search for her earrings”. She had gone straight to Dean’s study to write, after filling a page of notes she flipped to start a new one and had stopped dead. Her eyes gliding over his neat, cursive writing –

Believe in yourself like I believe in you. Don’t ever stop writing your masterpieces.

– Your number one fan.

She felt tears spring to her eyes, he knew exactly what she was doing and had moved his study around for her. He made allowances for her in his home when he didn’t bring any other women here. He changed his desk to accommodate her before she even came back the first time, like he knew she would need the space. Not only that, he trusted her enough that he was happy for her to go there whenever she needed. She couldn’t put into words what that meant to her, what it could mean for them.

His words branded themselves in her heart and soul. No one had ever said they believed in her before. They touched her deep inside and she needed to see him immediately and rushed back. She’d needed to be in his arms, and when she was finally in them, she needed him to take her body again. But he hadn’t, he rejected her subtle offer.

She’s the one who should be banging around all sullen and angry, not him. She was distracted from her thoughts by Beau’s car pulling up. She was ridiculously pleased to see him, she spent so much time with him that to have him gone felt like she was missing a part of her family, like her big brother. He came inside the house and she jumped on him, hugging him tight. He laughed and spun her around,

“Great to see you too, Christy.” They pulled apart and Beau’s eyes moved to the doorway and he smiled.

“Hey buddy, long time no see!”

She turned, letting go of Beau’s shoulders and saw Dean leaning against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching them.

“Christy sure seems glad you’re back, have I been that bad?” he asked, his eyes boring into her. She knew he was kidding, but there was a bite to his tone. Wait, was he jealous? No, he couldn’t be, could he?

“I like the grumpy, broody thing you’ve got going on. It really makes me just wanna mess with you some more,” Beau said, lacing an arm around Christy’s shoulders and hugging her tightly to him. Tension seemed to crackle in the air as the men looked at each other and she looked between them, what’s going on? Then Dean smiled and came over to clap Beau on the back.

“Nice to have you back, bro,” he said, and they bumped fists before Dean headed up the stairs. She watched him until he disappeared from view, then the bathroom door slammed shut and Beau chuckled next to her.

“Wow, look what you’ve done with the place!” he gushed, she suddenly panicked.

“Is it okay? Do you like it?”

“It looks great!”

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