Page 12 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)
Chapter Twelve
Eric
The heatwave was in full swing, and our afternoon call to a car accident off I-84 had been brutal, with the bright sun heating the asphalt and no shade in sight. The injuries were relatively minor, but the temperature was no joke. Back at the station, I rushed through my final report and the change of shift meeting in order to hit the showers for a quick rinse before heading out.
“You seem in a hurry to get home.” Sean was also coming off a shift, and the six p.m. sun greeted us with as much unrelenting heat as earlier in the day. The town would cool off some closer to sunset, but at this point in the summer, that meant waiting till eight or nine for relief.
“It’s a chaotic weekend ahead.” I had two full days off, not that I expected to get much rest. “John and Wren are back in town. Diesel and Maren are moving into the basement, Magnus is moving into the carriage house, and various friends are stopping by with furniture and help tomorrow.”
Magnus had spent the last two nights in the guest room, but I’d been on duty for much of it, so I’d been able to avoid thinking about what the heck I was getting into by renting him the carriage house. Yes, I was a good friend and always eager to help, but the offer had sprung from my lips with zero input from my brain and with far more enthusiasm than common sense.
“You can include us in helping.” Sean matched my strides as we approached our vehicles. “My sisters are sending some baby stuff for Maren and Diesel. I’ll bring it by tomorrow. We’re leaving the bed in the loft for Magnus. It’s super comfortable. You should check it out.”
“Sean…” I groaned as I pulled out my key fob.
Sean held up both hands. “You didn’t have to rent to the guy.”
“Yeah, I kind of did.” I used the most rational, reasonable tone I could muster. “I couldn’t let Maren’s new father-in-law flounder for a place. He has two big dogs and no clue how long he’ll need a lease while dealing with the headache of insurance red tape. This was the obvious solution.”
“So obvious.” Sean’s grin hadn’t dipped one iota despite my explanation. “So selfless of you. So much easier to sneakily?—”
“Which is not happening.” I unlocked my truck with a firm click.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Sean’s laugh echoed in my ears the whole drive home.
Once home, though, chaos was an excellent distraction from worries over what I was getting into with Magnus. I arrived intending to immediately start dinner, but I nearly collided with John as I approached the back door.
“Scotty and I got invited to dinner at Elliot’s.” He plucked the car keys from my grasp. “We’ll probably stay over.”
“Nice to see you.” My voice was dry, but John’s determination to skedaddle didn’t waver.
“Thanks.” He kept glancing toward the SUV. “You’re off tomorrow, right?”
“Yep. How’s that savings account of yours? We seriously need to look into getting you your own vehicle.”
“Already on it.” He grinned wide enough to reveal all three of his dimples. “I’m trying to get Denver to sell me his old truck. I’d like something that could haul more friends, but a truck is handy too.”
“He and Sean are coming over tomorrow if you’re back by then. Maybe we can talk about a deal.” If nothing else, I had no shortage of uses for the rent Magnus and Maren and Diesel had agreed to pay.
“I’ll try.” Another grin, and John, along with my car, were gone. In the kitchen, Wren had already started dinner. A casserole bubbled in the oven, leaving the kitchen a high holy mess.
“This is why we can’t have a laboratory.” I faked a stern tone before softening. “Smells good though.”
“It’s a high protein, high calcium, iron-rich recipe I’m perfecting for Maren.” Wren bustled around, not tidying the kitchen but rather flitting from tablet to cookbook to oven like a watchful hummingbird. “Whole wheat pasta, nutritional yeast, spinach, and someone shot down my idea to add liver.”
“I’m sure that was for the best,” I soothed as I stacked dirty dishes in the sink and tried to make headway on the cluttered and splattered counters. Where was Magnus? He’d be good for some scrubbing help.
Stop right there. Thoughts like those were exactly why this roommate thing was so dangerous. And then, as if I’d conjured him simply by the idle desire for some cleaning help, a very sweaty Magnus strolled into the kitchen from the deck.
“You’re home.” Magnus nodded before bending to greet his dogs, who had taken residence under the breakfast nook table. “Apologies, but I talked Wren here out of kidneys or liver in the mac and cheese. We compromised on a nice buttered wheat germ and breadcrumb crust.”
“Yum.” I gulped as I crossed to the breakfast nook and lowered my voice. “Thanks for offering the cooking advice, but are we sure the casserole will be edible?”
“It will.” Magnus gave a warm chuckle before he stood back up. And without prompting, he worked to clear the counters as easily as if he’d heard my thoughts. “My parents went through enough health food phases that I can unequivocally say that butter and copious amounts of cheddar cheese can rescue almost anything.”
“Fair enough.” I grabbed a sponge and wiped down the areas Magnus had cleared. “I take it Maren and Diesel are joining us for dinner?”
“Yep, they’re building shelves in the basement right now.” Finished with the counters, Magnus moved on to sweeping up Wren’s explosion of crumbs and cheese. Wren was, naturally, nowhere to be found while the cleanup was happening. I’d have to dole out a lecture later, but at the moment, I enjoyed the simple pleasure of cleaning with a willing helper. Didn’t hurt that Magnus’s ass looked spectacular when he bent to use the dustpan. “I’ve been working on that old dog run behind the carriage house you said I could use. Way more blackberry vines and weeds than I expected, but I’ll get it done.”
Jonas’s dog Oz had been old and not prone to running, so Jonas had never needed the dog run—a long, narrow, fenced area behind the carriage house. Magnus’s plan was to add a dog door to the carriage house for when he had to work.
“I can help after dinner.” There I went, offering to spend yet more time with the man. And not simply out of guilt that the area had stood neglected most of the time I’d owned the house. “Hopefully, it cools down some.”
“I’ll take that help if you’re not too tired from your shift.” Magnus gave me another of his easy smiles, giving me an out a smarter man would take.
“Nah.” I stretched, hoping the sunburn on the back of my neck didn’t show. “It was a pretty slow day. Some yard work would be good for me, wear me out enough to sleep at a normal time.”
“Oh, I can wear you out.” Magnus gave me the wink and suggestive tone I’d walked right into.
“Shouldn’t you be at your restaurant?” I wagged a finger at him far more playfully than I’d intended.
“The advantage of having good staff is being able to take a few days off to deal with an emergency like the fire.” Magnus’s voice turned slightly more pointed. “You eager to get rid of me already?”
Yes. But luckily, I was saved by the ding of the oven timer and the return of Wren, followed by Diesel and Maren clomping up the stairs from the basement. At dinner, I let the kids dominate the conversation, enduring a step-by-step recap of Wren’s cooking experiments and a cuddly rendition of the newlywed bliss found in assembling flat-pack Swedish furniture from Maren. She and Diesel wanted to paint an alcove they’d designated for the baby, and a lively discussion of low VOC paints took us to cleanup without me having to meet Magnus’s gaze once.
Maren and Diesel volunteered to do the dishes, with Maren bodily dragging Wren along to help, which left me alone in the dining room with Magnus.
“Shall we weed?” He made a grand gesture like a butler announcing a royal guest.
“Yardwork never sounded better.” I had to laugh as I followed him to the backyard.
“Technically, the dogs are fine for the moment.” He pointed to their sleeping forms near their food bowls. I wasn’t sure exactly when they and their owner planned to begin sleeping in the carriage house, but they had certainly made themselves at home in my kitchen. “But I need more work to justify a serving of the flan I brought back from the restaurant. Technically, as a peace offering for you, but there’s enough for everyone.”
“I don’t need a peace offering.” I followed him onto the deck.
“You’re turning down my flan?” He paused to glance back over his shoulder, expression skeptical. He knew how much I loved that coffee and sea salt caramel flan that was now a permanent part of The Heist’s menu.
“Well, when you put it like that…” I trailed off because we both knew he had me. We made our way to the old dog run, where Magnus had made significant progress pulling weeds and clearing debris. I fetched work gloves and clippers and attacked the blackberry vines like the native Oregonian I was. And contrary to the weed’s name, the invasive vines lacked even a single berry.
After I finished my task, I put the hedge clippers away. However, upon my return, I almost tripped over Magnus, who was crouched along the chain-link fence. The man really did have the roundest, tightest ass in the world. Since he couldn’t see me, I took a long second to appreciate what Mother Nature gave him.
“What are you doing?” I asked after I’d looked my fill.
“Checking any and all possible weak points the Houdini hounds could exploit.”
“Oh.” That made so much sense that I bent to join him, checking for sharp edges and places where they might dig or test the old fence.
“I didn’t mean you needed to crawl around with me.” Magnus made a frustrated noise, and I looked in his direction only to find him far closer now. As in, right freaking there, face inches from mine.
“I want to.” I exhaled hard, finally allowing myself to look deep into his eyes, the thing I’d been avoiding for what felt like an eternity. He had wonderful eyes, rich with shades of brown, kind and expressive. I liked looking at him even as the memory of our couch cuddle rushed over me. When you’re ready, really ready, I can’t wait to kiss you. For the first time, wanting Magnus felt as simple as my next breath, which escaped on an uneven rush. “I really want to.”
“We still talking about fencing?” Magnus asked softly, holding my gaze. His eyes darkened with clear desire, but his voice was restrained. Yet again, the most confounding man I knew offered me an out.
“No.” And this time, I didn’t take the escape hatch. Refused to take it, in fact. Instead, I slid across the remaining few inches of dirt between us to put one grubby glove on his black Heist T-shirt and haul him in for the least skilled kiss of my adult life.
Funny how after wanting and denying myself this moment for months, I’d managed to lose all dexterity and any muscle memory as far as kissing was concerned. My nose went where? And my other hand dangled helplessly at my side as my brain shorted out. Somehow, I brought my lips to within kissing distance, bumping against Magnus’s with all the elegance of a barge hitting a dock.
And right as I was about to declare this attempt an unmitigated failure, Magnus took over. His hands knew where to go, pulling me securely against him before roaming over my back. And his mouth, lordy that mouth. The man could flirt and tease and charm, so I should have anticipated he could kiss like he’d invented the action himself. His smiles were dangerous, and his kiss was downright lethal, the way he started soft, so soft, taking my blunt pressure and replacing it with little hints of contact.
He sipped and teased until I gasped, lips parting, body finally remembering how this was supposed to work. And boy, did it ever work. Electricity followed his every caress, and all that energy gathered into something potent at the base of my spine, magnifying the sheer pleasure to be found in touching our tongues together.
“More.” I barely had a chance to groan out the word before Magnus was doing just that, morphing from the soft, barely-there kisses to more aggressive bites and licks, still teasing, always teasing, but more purposeful now that he knew he had me. I clung to him like it was the one thing my hands were good for. My gloves had long since fluttered to the ground and his meaty shoulders were the anchor I needed. He tasted sweetly seductive, like the most expensive tequila, and I wanted every last drop he had to offer.
When he drew back long enough to say, “Race you to inside the carriage house,” all I could do was nod.