Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 31
Behind it stood Devin, and Zoe’s stomach did a loop-the-loop.
Good grief, he was gorgeous. His sandy-brown hair was all mussed, exactly the way she wanted it to be after she’d been raking her hands through it all night. If it was possible, his jaw was sharper, the scruff there even more masculine. He stood there in a T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare on the hardwood.
His eyes shone midnight black with want, and just like that, all the doubt disappeared from her mind.
“Devin—”
“C’mere.”
He reached into the space between them to drag her in.
She crashed into him with the same passionate, desperate need that had overcome them in the back office of Harvest Home. The kisses were just that bright and stinging, and she couldn’t get enough. The door slammed closed behind her. With all his bulk, Devin pressed her into it, and oh God.
She’d known he was ripped, but feeling all that hard muscle awakened a need inside her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she used what leverage she had to climb his body, and he helped her, lifting her up. She curled her legs around him.
The hot bulge of him against her center sent fireworks off inside her. He let out a noise that was pure sex as they ground together. She’d never gone from zero to sixty so fast. She was dizzy with it, barely able to think.
He moved them away from the door, holding on to her as he turned to carry her through his apartment.
She got only the most glancing impression of the place. It was neat but spare, no pictures on the wall. A plain beige couch, a glass coffee table, and a sage-green rug.
And then she didn’t have time to even think about his interior decorating, because that was his bedroom door he was hauling her through.
She pulsed deep inside as he practically tossed her down onto the big bed. He stood over her for a long moment, breath coming hard. Her entire body flushed. She liked being seen like this, liked the dark glint in his piercing eyes as he ran his broad hands along the tops of her thighs.
But the moment stretched and stretched. That same nervous flutter from earlier returned. “No take-backs?” she reminded him. She hated how it came out like a question.
He inhaled deeply. Then he nodded. “No take-backs.”
Resolved, he climbed on top of her. As he kissed her again, slower this time, she wanted to pinch herself. There was no hesitation in him, and when she put her hands on his skin, under the hem of his shirt, he pushed into her touch. This wasn’t some frantic, impulsive rush.
This was real.
Savoring every moment, she opened to him, curling her legs around his hips. The hot weight of his body settled over her. Every lick of his tongue and scrape of his teeth across her lips set her ablaze. Molten desire bubbled up inside her, and she wanted to take her time, but she couldn’t wait.
She pushed his shirt up. Rising onto his knees, he grabbed the fabric by the back of the neck and tore it off, and holy crap. His muscles had muscles, all of him golden tan and smooth. A trail of hair led down to the button of his jeans, and she had to stop herself from ripping those open right away, too.
When he kissed her again, it was with a new intensity. A flash of burning arousal shot through her when his rough hands dipped beneath her top. She helped him take it off. Her bra followed, and he groaned.
“I’ve been trying not to think about these for so long.” He buried his face in her breasts, and she laughed.
It didn’t stay funny for long. Not when his hot mouth sealed over that tender flesh. Aching for more, she arched into him, running her fingers through his hair. Everything he did felt so good. Triumph had her flying high.
Until he started kissing lower down her abdomen.
“Devin,” she moaned when he got to the waistband of her leggings.
Staring her straight in the eyes, he pressed one firm kiss to the very center of her through the fabric, and she practically came right then and there.
She reached for him.
He raced back up her body, sucking and biting at her all the way. As soon as he was close enough, she kissed him hot and deep, scrambling at his fly. She finally ripped it open and pushed his jeans and underwear down. The hot, hard length of him sprang free, and they groaned as one. He was huge in her hands, and she still couldn’t believe this was happening.
As she stroked him, he tore at her clothes, too. She kicked off her boots, and it was all a mad dash until they were both naked. He paused just long enough to get a condom on. When he lined himself up, she had no doubts.
Still, he paused. “Zo…”
She sucked in a breath. Cupping his face in her hands, she brought his lips to hers for another, softer kiss.
“I want this,” she promised him, and it was too true. With emotion she couldn’t name, she told him, “I want you.”
He closed his eyes.
His body sinking into hers turned her inside out. He felt so perfect as he ground against her, sending sparks surging through her.
“Zo,” he repeated.
“I’m here.” She was babbling. What was she saying? “I’m here, I’m here, I want you. I want this.”
He pulled back, and she pushed into him until they fell into a rhythm. Pleasure started at the apex of her thighs, spreading outward until all she could see and feel and touch and taste was him. Over and over he drove into her, faster. She scrabbled at him, running her hands all up and down his back and shoulders.
“Zoe, Zo, I can’t—you feel so good—”
“Devin, come on, please, I want—”
He slammed into her another half dozen times.
Her climax tore through her out of nowhere. Her vision flashed to black, and she squeezed every part of herself around him. Driving in deep, he called her name a final time. He pulsed inside her, and her entire world shattered.
Because this was real. She’d had sex with Devin James.
What had started as a challenge to see if she could get him to break had turned into a breaking down of her conception of the natural order of the universe.
She still had no real delusions that this could be more than a fling, but the impossible had already happened the instant he’d touched his lips to hers.
As she stared up at his ceiling in wonder, she pressed a hand to the center of his back.
Who knew? Maybe all her notions of what she could and couldn’t have in this world were wrong.
Chapter Nine
Watch out!”
At the sound of Terrell’s shout, Devin jerked his gaze up from his clipboard.
Half his people were raising a section of the house’s frame, Terrell and Gene up on ladders while the rest supported and spotted from below, only something wasn’t right. Devin shot to his feet, gaze swinging wildly, the entire site going into slow motion. There—crap.
Off to the side, Bryce had let go prematurely, and Devin lurched forward, calling his name, but it was too late. Terrell’s grip slipped without anyone to back him up.
The whole thing came crashing down.
Devin raced over. “Is everybody okay?”
“Yeah.” Terrell scrubbed a hand over his face.
Devin checked in with everybody else, and no one had gotten hurt, thank goodness. He appraised the rest of the scene. The damage to the section that had fallen wasn’t that bad, either, but it was still going to set them back a couple of hours—and that was before the headache of writing this up.
“I swore I had it,” Terrell said, climbing down. His eyes narrowed as he glared silently off to the left.
Following his gaze, Devin flexed his jaw. He patted Terrell on the back. “It’s just about lunch time anyway. Take a break, and then we’ll get this cleaned up afterward.”
He and the rest of the crew nodded.
Reassured that they were all okay, Devin stalked to the other side of the building, grinding his teeth together hard enough to crack.
A week had passed since he’d moved up to shift leader, and for the most part it had been going great. The team listened to him, and he’d handled the couple of issues that had arisen without much trouble.
Except Bryce.
Mostly it was little things like unauthorized breaks or screwing around on his phone when he was supposed to be working. Some of it was more serious, like using inappropriate language when talking to the women on the crew. Devin had documented it all, slowly building a case that even the folks who protected him couldn’t ignore.
But this?
“Horton,” he growled.
Bryce looked up from his phone. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me.” Devin wanted to grab the guy’s phone and chuck it in the cement mixer, only that would make a defect in the next house’s foundation. Workers on the site weren’t forbidden from being on them or anything; this wasn’t high school. But when your eyes and hands needed to be on the job, they needed to be on the job. “Where were you?”
“Right there.” He gestured toward where the crash had happened. “Weren’t you watching?”
Old anxiety rose in Devin. His dad used to do that, too—reframing everything to make it out like Devin was the one to blame. He had to remind himself that wasn’t true today. Devin had been doing his job, keeping an eye on his team while also seeing to the rest of his duties. “You weren’t paying attention, and somebody could’ve gotten hurt.”
Bryce rolled his eyes. “Terrell’s butterfingers aren’t my fault.”
Forget a headache; the incident report was going to be a full-on migraine. Enough other people would back Devin and Terrell up that Bryce had been the one to let go, but the fact of the matter was that this never should have happened in the first place.
“You not doing your job is your fault.” Devin kept his voice restrained but barely. “I’m not going to turn a blind eye to this BS.”
“Sure you won’t.” Bryce’s smile was mocking as he patted Devin on the shoulder.
Devin shoved him off automatically. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.
He walked away, hating the hot feeling in his chest and the hotter one in his face. The sense of helplessness ate at him, making him feel like he was twelve years old all over again.
Sure, he’d document this entire thing, but there was no satisfaction in that.
How did he protect his people? Stop giving Bryce any jobs where he could put the other members of his crew at risk? Stop giving him jobs at all? Bryce would love that.
The unfairness made him want to punch something.
Instead, he drew in a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down before getting back to it.
On impulse, he popped his phone out of his pocket for the first time all morning. A handful of alerts greeted him, and he scrolled through them. When he got to the couple of texts from Zoe, the remaining tension bled out of his body, and he couldn’t hold back the warm smile that curled his lips.
Ugh, remind me why I’m shacking up with a morning person again? I need coffee and it’s all the way over theeeeerre
A photo came with the message, showing her in his bed, her hair a mess where it lay splayed out across his sheets, and he had to suck in a breath. There wasn’t a single inappropriate thing about the shot, but it didn’t matter. The sight of her, all rumpled and gorgeous and soft from sleep…It did things to him.
He just wished he could be there to take advantage of it. To roll her over and kiss that red mouth until they were both breathless.
Or maybe—if it was a day when he wasn’t working…to go make her coffee. Pancakes. Breakfast in bed.
He mentally shook his head at himself. What a sap.
A week now they’d been doing…whatever it was they were doing together. Giving in to the overwhelming force of attraction between them had been the easiest thing in the world. When she was around, it was like all his worries disappeared.
He’d thought it would be weird, going from her brother’s best friend to her friend to maybe something more, but it hadn’t been. At all.
They’d never had to have any intense conversations about what was going on between them, either. Even that first time, when he’d been nervous about risking everything for a night of fun, it was like she’d been able to see right through him. Proving just how well she knew him, she’d just climbed right back on top of him and kissed him senseless, then wandered naked into his kitchen to fix herself a sandwich. She’d called out to ask if he wanted anything, too. Casual—like it was the most normal thing. And you know, he had been kind of hungry after working up an appetite like that.
So she’d just slipped into his life. When they weren’t having mind-blowing sex, they were sharing takeout pizza or introducing each other to their favorite shows. He still wasn’t quite sold on The Bachelor, but watching her yelling at the TV made him grin, and she was surprisingly receptive to reruns of This Old House playing in the background the rest of the time.
His crummy, boring apartment felt warm when she was in it. So warm that he almost forgot for hours at a time that his entire goal in life was to build his house in the woods and get out of here.
His only regret was the same one she had. She worked nights and he worked days, and so there she was waking up at—he checked the time stamp on the message—ten in the morning, while he was up at six.
Shaking his head at himself, he tapped out a quick reply. Wish I could’ve gone and grabbed you one.
Her answer came seconds later. It’s ok, I managed.
The picture that followed was of her at Bobbi’s bakery on Main Street. She was seated at one of the little tables inside, a latte and an empty plate set next to her open laptop.
His smile faded slightly. She’d kicked it up a notch on the job search of late. That or, now that he got regular updates about her life, he was just more aware of it.
Every time she talked about it, a little pit formed in his stomach. Which was stupid. He’d known from the minute she moved back home that it was temporary. She was only here until the right opportunity came along, and he could be a big enough man to hope it showed up for her soon.
Even if, deep down, he never wanted her to leave.
“Hey, James.” Bryce’s voice had Devin jerking his gaze up. “Your girlfriend’s here.”
For a second, Devin’s heart lurched into his throat.
No way. Zoe had just texted him from the bakery, and even if she hadn’t—they hadn’t exactly talked about it, but the one time he’d tried to bring up how he’d prefer to keep whatever they were doing together quiet, at least for the time being, she’d just rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” she’d said before kissing his cheek. “My brother murdering you would be a real bummer.”
And then she’d started kissing other parts of him, and well, that’d been the end of that.
Long story short, she wouldn’t just show up at his work unannounced, and Bryce wouldn’t know to call her his girlfriend.
Before he could work himself up any further worrying, he spotted Han’s car in the lot—not Zoe’s. Relief swept over him, even as a new kind of nervousness started to intrude.
Flipping Bryce off for being a homophobic prick, he started crossing the site toward the lot. As he approached, Han got out of his car and held up one of the same chopped-up liquor boxes he used for Jade Garden deliveries, and Devin managed a smile.
“Hey, buddy,” Han said as he hauled the food over to the picnic table by the trailer, where they usually ate.
“Hey.”
He and Han did this once a week or so. Their schedules didn’t match up much better than Devin’s and Zoe’s. Lunch on the job site was one of the easier ways to get together most weeks.
As Han started unpacking the containers he’d brought, Devin pulled apart a couple of paper plates. His stomach growled as the mouthwatering scents of whatever Han had cooked up today hit him.
“The mango pork’s new,” Han said. “And I tweaked the ginger on the veggies.”
“Yeah?”
Han might’ve had to drop out of culinary school when his dad died, but you’d never know it. He cooked all day, and then he cooked some more on his days off. He tried out new recipes—fancy “fusion” stuff that he and his mom had agreed didn’t fit with the Jade Garden’s brand, though he did manage to sneak a few of the tamer test recipes into the Chef’s Specials “secret menu” now and then.
As Han plated up the food, he tipped his head toward the guys eating sandwiches and leftovers at the other tables. “So, how’s it going?”
Devin rolled his eyes. “Same as usual.”
“AKA, Bryce is being a jerk?”
Devin glared, but he knew there had been no one close enough to hear Han. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Han scooped meat and vegetables onto a bed of noodles, then went ahead and sprinkled sesame seeds and scallions and drizzled some sort of orange sauce over it all, because the parking lot of a construction site was a five-star restaurant in his eyes. He passed the plate over, and Devin smacked his lips.
“I’m telling you.” Han opened a set of wooden chopsticks and pointed them at Devin. “You gotta stand up to guys like him.”
The same old discomfort churned in Devin’s gut, but he pushed it down. “Sure, just like you did with all the mean kids back in high school.”
“Shut up, man.”
Neither of them had gotten picked on too badly when they were kids. Han stuck out, one of maybe four Asian kids in the school at the time, but he’d been as charming then as he was now—the bastard. Devin had held his own. He never started any fights, but when any came his way, he finished them. The two of them and the rest of the gang they ran with—they were fine.
But Han’s girlfriend, May, had gotten savaged by the mean girl squad. She acted like it was no big deal, but whatever had happened, it had been bad enough that May had taken off after graduation. She’d come back for Han’s dad’s funeral and a visit or two here and there, and that was it.
Han scowled and nodded at Devin’s food. “So? You gonna eat or just give me crap about things that happened a decade ago?”
“Like I can’t do both.” He tore open his own chopsticks. He’d never be as good with them as Han was, but he managed okay. He eyed the food. “Nice presentation.”
