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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Declan

I woke early the next morning with a strange fluttering in my gut. Memories of the night before slowly surfaced as I blinked away the sleep fog.

Cash, working so hard for me that he was in pain. So earnest and dedicated to making this project happen.

Me, deciding to massage his shoulders and—admittedly—indulge in some platonic touching. Of course, it hadn’t stayed platonic, and ironically, that was all on me. Cash had told me to ignore his reaction, that nothing had to happen. But for once, I’d wanted… something . Maybe not everything Cash would have been up for, but I’d craved intimacy and closeness.

Which was a terrible fucking idea because I’d been down this road before—and I was leaving, anyway.

I shifted in the bed, and my morning wood brushed against the sheets, sending a rush of need through me. I was used to waking up hard. It was biology. But this morning, it was pulling at my focus more than usual.

I threw back the blankets and headed for the shower. I’d take care of this little problem quickly, then dress in some old, ratty clothes to meet Cash over at The Roost to work.

The fluttering started in my stomach again.

Stop it. You can’t have him. It would be a disaster and you know it.

With that uplifting thought, I turned on the shower and stripped off my silk pajamas. I climbed into the lukewarm water, too impatient to wait for it to heat fully, and started washing.

My stubborn dick remained hard, waving in front of me. With a sigh of annoyance, I squirted some body wash into my palm and started stroking.

I jerked off as much as any other man, but most of the time it was a means to give my body relief and move on. I started the same way, stroking my dick on autopilot while my mind fuzzed out and played a reel of abstract sexual images that didn’t mean much to me.

No faces, no real people, just…sensations. The act of sex was good in the moment. I just didn’t crave it often.

Pleasure built as I worked my dick, but suddenly Cash snuck into my mind. Not surprising, with the way he was getting under my skin against my better judgment.

The memory of last night blazed to life: Cash arching, face twisted, lips parted in pleasure—and his gaze seeking mine, connecting with me in the most intimate way possible.

I gasped as my orgasm crashed into me, stunned by the realization that Cash Hicks had just made me come.

I rinsed away the mess and got out, drying and dressing in faded blue jeans with grass stains on the knees and an old T-shirt with a Voyager Corp. logo from the bank chain that used to employ me.

It occurred to me halfway through my shave that I should have left the shower until after the sweaty work at The Roost.

I regularly got up and gardened before I showered, so I shouldn’t have automatically showered first. Unless…

I subconsciously wanted to look good for Cash. But that was ridiculous. I wanted less attention from men, not more. I didn’t put effort into my appearance for anyone.

I wiped away the last of the shaving cream—grimacing at my clean-shaven, groomed appearance. This nonsense had to stop.

By the time I made a pot of coffee, Aunt Millie’s pickup was passing by the window. I poured two mugs and headed out the back door and across the yard.

Cash beat me there, parking and waiting by the path where I’d spent two days weeding, graveling, and putting down landscape barriers and rocks to keep it clear.

His eyes lit up as I extended a cup to him. “Coffee from a gorgeous man in the morning. Does it get any better than that?”

I scoffed. “I’m wearing grass-stained jeans.”

“Mm, and it’s sexy.” Cash leaned in to murmur, “You must spend a lot of time on your knees.”

“It’s from gardening,” I said stiffly.

“Those lucky weeds,” Cash teased.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I knew he was just teasing, but unlike in the shower when Cash was just in my head—now he was too real.

I lifted my cup for a quick gulp and started up the path. Cash dropped into step beside me.

“It’s just more sanding this morning. I can only stay for a couple of hours, but Gray will be out this afternoon.”

I nodded. “I’ve got to serve breakfast at nine anyway.” I glanced sidelong at him. “You want to join us?”

“I don’t know. Will I make you look bad by entertaining your guests?”

“Without a doubt, but you’ll also make the whole ordeal easier to handle.”

Cash chuckled. “You really aren’t suited to hospitality, are you?”

“I’m really not.”

We got to the door, and I reached for my pocket, only to realize I didn’t have my keys. Cash produced the keyring. “Looking for these?”

“Ah. Yes.”

“You’re very trusting. I could have come in and watched you sleep like a creeper.”

I took the keys and unlocked the door. “You, uh, didn’t though. Right?”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I shook my head. “I think I’ll choose to be blissfully ignorant in this case.”

Cash followed me inside, and the vision of the torn-up walls assaulted me all over again.

“I started with a gutted kitchen, and now there’s a gutted living room too. I’m not sure this is better.”

Cash slung his arm over my shoulders and tugged me in against his side. “We’ve been over this, grumpy bear.”

I tried not to show how much I liked snuggling in against his side. Cash smelled awfully good for someone about to engage in hours of work. Had he done that for my benefit?

I breathed in the spicy scent of his aftershave and decided I didn’t care.

“It’s like surgery,” Cash continued. “We have to cut open the patient before we can fix them and sew them up again.”

“That’s a terrible analogy.”

He dropped his arm and stepped away to put his coffee on the windowsill and start gathering the sanding tools. “Is it? I thought it was good.”

I shuddered at the thought of Cash doing surgery. “I just hope you’re better at fixing walls than you would be at operating on actual human beings.”

He snorted. “Well, luckily, my patients can’t die.” He paused. “I don’t think, anyway. Maybe if I took a sledgehammer to them?—”

“Okay,” I cut in quickly. “This is bad enough. Let’s not test the theory and start fixing things.”

He grinned and gave me a hand sander. “You got it, honey bear. Get your butt on the step stool and start sanding.”

“Why am I suddenly all varieties of bear this morning?”

“Because your snarl is just so cute I can hardly stand it.”

My heart skipped because obviously I was a fool. I couldn’t be developing a crush on the most sexually active man I’d ever known. That would be idiotic. Not to mention, I was leaving town .

I attacked the wall, working out some frustration, but I didn’t get far before Cash stopped me.

“Whoa there. We’re not trying to bore a hole through the wall. Smooth strokes, Declan. Just like you watched me do last night.”

I huffed in exasperation. “Will you stop flirting?”

“Who says I’m flirting?” Cash gave a shit-stirring grin. “You saw me sanding the wall, right? What else could you possibly think I mean?” His eyes widened comically. “Oh, Dec, you weren’t thinking of”—his voice lowered to a dramatic whisper—“ something dirty , were you?”

I brandished the sandpaper in his direction. “Keep it up and I’m gonna sand your grin right off your face.”

He laughed. “I had no idea you were so violent.”

“Me either,” I muttered, “but clearly you inspire me.”

I hadn’t meant that as a compliment, but Cash smiled like I’d said something sweet. Hell, maybe I had. He had me all muddled up lately.

Thankfully, he let the matter drop and got to work beside me, each of us sanding away bits of glue and particles of paneling left behind.

We moved along the walls, inching our way across the room. Soon, my arm was burning from the repetitive motions of sanding, and I tried switching to my left arm for a while. I was less coordinated though, and I was soon back to the right.

Twenty minutes later, the dull ache was more of a throb and I stopped to rub my shoulder.

“Am I going to have to give you a massage this time?” Cash asked, eyes on me.

“You wish,” I mumbled.

“I really do.”

With one last rub, I went back to sanding. The room was silent except for the scritch-scritch-scritch of the sandpaper against sheetrock.

“It wouldn’t have to end the same way,” Cash said.

I paused. “What?”

“A massage,” he said. “It could end any way you liked.”

The teasing tone was gone. I glanced over to see a pensive look on his face.

“I like to flirt, but I just want you to know?—”

“I do,” I said.

It was true. Cash already understood me better than any of my past boyfriends had—partly because he’d made the attempt to learn.

It didn’t change his needs, though. Didn’t change the fact he was a man in his prime who deserved everything he wanted, everything I couldn’t give.

My phone alarm went off, ending the conversation before it drifted into dangerous waters.

“I need to run to the bakery and pick up breakfast.”

Cash nodded. “I’ll keep at this and meet you over there in twenty minutes?”

“Sounds good.”

I made the drive to Hot Buns to pick up an assortment of baked goods. When I arrived, Danny from Just The Sip was there.

And he was fluttering his lashes at the big, brooding baker, Abe, while Jasmine looked on with a smirk.

“I’d love to carry some of your goods in my shop,” Danny was saying, “but I need someone to bring them over for me.”

“I could do that,” Abe said.

“Yeah? I’d give you free coffee. Free anything you want, actually.”

“I don’t need anything.”

Danny pouted. It should have looked ridiculous on a thirty-something man, but Danny was so small—five-foot-six—next to the hulking Abe that it somehow worked for him.

“What if I want to give it to you, though?” Danny said.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, I hate to interrupt, but I need my breakfast order.”

“Of course,” Jasmine said. “Let me grab it.”

But Abe was already turning away to head back into the kitchen for it. Danny turned a dirty look on me. “I was this close to getting that man to smile.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just on the clock.”

“Me too. I’m not getting any younger.”

“And I am?”

“Well, you’ve got Cash wrapped around your little finger.”

“I don’t have anyone,” I said quickly, heart lurching—with fear, unease, excitement? I didn’t even know.

“Oh, yeah?” Danny grinned. “Maybe I’ll ask out Cash, then.”

“Go ahead,” I gritted out. My teeth had clenched involuntarily.

“I just might,” Danny said with a sigh. “Abe sure isn’t giving me the time of day.”

“He’s just shy,” Jasmine said. “Give him time to warm up to you.”

Danny raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you think?”

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know anything.”

“Clearly. If you were smart, you’d snatch up Cash before someone else does.”

“I’m not— We’re not…”

Danny smiled at Jasmine. “I’ll be back later to work out the details on the business arrangement. Unless Abe wants to stop by.” He winked. “You all know where to find me.”

He sauntered out the front door, leaving me confused.

“What just happened?” I asked as Abe returned with the carry-out box of pastries.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” he rumbled quietly.

It was the most words I’d heard him speak.

His sister snorted. “I think you’re both hopeless.”

Well, I couldn’t fault her logic. I paid for the order, wished them both a good morning, and headed back to the B&B.

The whole way there, Danny’s words haunted me.

If you were smart, you’d snatch up Cash before someone else does.

But how could I snatch up a man that I couldn’t please for long—one that I was planning to leave in a matter of weeks?

Answer: I couldn’t.

But the idea of his smiles and his sweetness and his warmth—even his silly flirtations—being directed at someone else sat in my stomach like a heavy rock.