Chapter 5

 

Carley swallowed as Knox lifted his shirt over his head, transfixed by the amazing display of hard muscle and bare skin. Dang, the man looked like he was carved out of marble. If she looked close—and she was really looking—she could see a few flaws, a thin line of scar tissue running across his chest, another scar on his shoulder, and one about the size of a quarter on his right pec that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound.

Why did that suddenly make him seem even more sexy? It made more sense that the kind of guy she’d want to date—if she wanted to date, that is—would be one who would avoid getting shot.

She needed to do something, say something, anything to stop her from continuing to stare at his half-naked body. Or worse, to fling herself at him and beg him to take her against the kitchen counter. “I kind of think you deserve that,” she finally said, feeling like the sarcastic teasing route was the best way to go.

He chuckled as he turned on the water and held the shirt under the faucet. “If you knew the thoughts I’d been having about you taking your top off, you’d be sure of it.”

She grabbed a towel off the kitchen counter and tossed it at him.

He deftly evaded the towel as he wrung out his wet shirt. “Can I stick this in your dryer?”

“Sure.” She led him toward the small laundry room tucked behind the bathroom at the end of the hall. An old washer and dryer filled most of the space, leaving just enough room for a hamper and a small utility sink. She knew the room wasn’t very big, but it seemed to shrink even more as Knox followed her in. He stood behind her, their bodies almost touching as she tossed his shirt in the dryer, threw in a fabric sheet, and set the timer for thirty minutes.

The rumble of the old dryer started as she turned around and ran smack into a wall of hard muscled chest. Make that hard, naked muscled chest.

She peered up at him, knowing she should back away but unable to move. He looked down at her, the soft expression on his face changing to one of desire as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Her lips parted as if in hopes of a kiss, and she drew in a small shallow breath. Something was happening here, and she seemed powerless to stop it. The air itself seemed charged with…what? Electricity? A current of energy? Yeah, that about summed it up…an electric current of crazy sexual energy.

Geez. What was the matter with her? Knox was just a man. What was so special about this guy that started her tingly bits humming and had her thinking stuff like “crazy sexual energy”?

She didn’t know what it was. But it was something. Something that was taking her over, so when he leaned in even closer, her sexually charged body told her cautious brain to “stuff it” and she leaned in too, her body aching to press against his.

He reached up a hand and pressed the back of his fingers to her cheek. His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “I really do like you, Carley.”

“I really do like you too,” she whispered back.

He leaned down and softly brushed his lips against her neck in that spot right below her ear—the spot that made her hum with anticipation. His voice vibrated against her skin. “All I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Her mouth couldn’t seem to form words. All that seemed to come out were little sighs of pleasure.

“I won’t kiss you until you say ‘yes’ though.” As he spoke, his lips grazed up her neck and over her cheek. His breath was warm, and his voice husky as he spoke into her ear. “You have to tell me it’s okay. Is it okay? Can I kiss you, Carley?”

She might just die if he didn’t kiss her soon. Her body was so warm, she feared she was in danger of internal combustion. Her hands gripped his muscular biceps, just the feel of his strong arms exciting her even more, as she breathed out the single word. “Yes.”

She felt him still, then his tense shoulders relaxed as he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. The hand that had been touching her cheek moved slowly across her face until his thumb grazed her bottom lip.

It seemed as if the tenseness in Knox’s muscles had shifted to hers, her whole body was taut with the anticipation of his lips finally meeting hers. So soft, so careful, as if she were something fragile that might break. Then his light, tender kiss deepened, as if he wanted to consume her.

Her fingers ran over his smooth, broad shoulders, then clutched his back as she tried to pull him closer. He lifted her up, setting her on the dryer as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands were everywhere, cupping, caressing, skimming over her arms, then holding her cheeks, then digging into her hair as he devoured her. There was no other word for the onslaught of passion and desire as he feasted on her mouth, sampling and sipping, asking, then taking, until she was no longer sure where his breath ended and hers began.

She had no idea where this was coming from, this intense wave of passion, but she was caught in it, unable to escape its clutches. And in the flaming heat of that moment, she didn’t want to.

She didn’t want anything except this man’s hands on her and the press of his body against hers. She let out a small moan as his hands slid inside the slit of her shirt, and she felt his fingers brush over the bare skin of her back, then skim up the sides of her breasts.

She could feel the warmth of the dryer through her leggings and the steady thrum of the machine as he rocked against her, the hard swell of him rubbing against the center of her feminine core.

The vibrations and the heat of the machine combined with the last few hours of suppressed sexual tension and all the fantasizing about him had her so turned on, she couldn’t even think. All she could do was feel. Then the emotion and ecstasy completely took her over as he ravished her, touching her skin and wrenching the sleeve of her shirt down to place hot kisses along her neck and shoulder.

He took her mouth again just as his hips ground into her in exactly that spot…the thin fabric of her leggings rubbing against the friction of the denim of his jeans…the sensations building…and building…

Oh. Ohh. Ohhhh.

The intensity of it caught her off-guard as the spasms ripped through her, swelling then ebbing then flooding her with heat and pleasure. A shuddering moan escaped her as she dug her fingers into his back, clinging to him as she rode the wave of euphoria.

He stopped, holding still, then slowly pulled his head back, his eyes wide as he peered down at her. “Did you just…?”

She let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I did. I mean, it’s been a long time for me…and you were wearing that tool belt…and no shirt…and did I mention that it’s been a really long time for me?”

“You did mention that.”

She lowered her gaze, embarrassment further heating her already warm cheeks. But when she dared to look back up at him, a slow grin was spreading across his lips. A grin of pride tinged with just a hint of self-importance.

She shook her head. “What are you smiling about? I’m sure it was just the vibration of the dryer.”

“Too late, darlin’. You already mentioned my tool belt. Come on, now. Forget the dryer or how long it’s been, you gotta give me some of the credit for that one.”

She lifted one shoulder in the smallest shrug. “Okay, maybe you get a little credit.”

He ran his hand up the outside of her thigh, drawing goosebumps out along her skin. “Maybe we need to try that again, just so we know for sure to offer where credit is due.”

That idea had heat swirling and coiling in her stomach and her sensitive spot humming with expectation. “Or we could just call it a draw.”

He dropped his chin to press a warm kiss against the side of her neck—in the same spot that started this whole thing happening. His voice was ridiculously sexy and sent more hums through her as he softly asked, “Now where’s the fun in that?”

Her nipples ached at the prospect of another round of “fun,” and she pressed her hips against him, the bulge behind his zipper telling her he was just as excited about the idea as she was.

She really should stop this before it went even further. If he kept kissing her like he’d been doing, more clothes than just his shirt were bound to come off. Her brain kept trying to convince her that was a bad idea, but her body was overruling its objections as his lips found hers again.

Then she was lost, enraptured by the feel of his arms as he pulled her close and the press of his hungry lips as they slanted against hers.

She froze mid-kiss, pulling away as she heard the distinctive creak of the front door opening followed by an elderly female voice calling down the hallway. “Yoo-hoo. Anybody home?”

Carley’s eyes went wide. “It’s Evelyn,” she whispered, adjusting her shirt as she hopped off the dryer.

“Oh, shit. Do you think she knows I’m here?” he whispered back.

“Yes, your truck’s outside,” she said quietly before raising her voice. “Be out in a minute.”

“It’s gonna take me more than a minute to be presentable to Miss Evelyn,” he said.

Carley held back a giggle as she slid past him. “I’ll distract her while you…get yourself together.”

“Good. I’ll just take a quick cold shower and try to solve some algebraic equations in my head.”

“Algebraic equations? I thought guys always thought about hockey stats or something else equally boring.”

“Not me. And hockey stats aren’t boring. I love hockey. But I hate algebra. Thinking about cleaning out the moldy food in the refrigerator sometimes helps too.”

She made a face. “You’re weird. Hot. But still weird…” She peered down at his dilemma, which hadn’t lessened in the least. “Whatever it takes. Miss Evelyn might not have the best eyesight in the world, but there’s no way she’ll miss that.”

His lips curved into a sexy grin that had her stomach swirling and her lady parts yearning for another ride on the dryer. “Thank you. I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Oh my gosh.” She laughed as she playfully swatted his arm. “X equals Y plus nine squared to the root of seven…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you even take algebra?”

She laughed. “Yes, and that’s exactly how I remember it, a bunch of letters with random math-sounding words and numbers in between.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed with her as he scooted out of her way. “I’ll try to do some actual mathematical equations and be out in a sec.”

She took a deep breath, then smoothed her hair and exited the laundry room. “Evelyn, hi,” she said to the woman standing in her kitchen.

“The door was open, so I let myself in. Hope that’s okay.” She held a Pyrex casserole dish, and the cat had left the sofa and was weaving around Evelyn’s ankles, leaving a trail of yellow and white hair on the woman’s pant legs.

“Of course. I’m always happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“I knew Bryn was out of town, so I wanted to welcome you to your new home by bringing you a hot dish. But it seems like you already have one of those,” she said, nodding toward the hallway where Knox was coming out of the laundry room and pulling his T-shirt over his head.

Warmth flooded Carley’s cheeks. “It’s not what you think.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Evelyn said, gazing at Carley with an impish grin that told her she knew exactly what to think.

“Really, his shirt just got wet, and we threw it in the dryer,” she sputtered.

“Of course it did. What other reason would he have for taking his shirt off?”

“Hey, Miss Evelyn. Good to see you,” Knox said, peering at the dish in her hands. “I don’t know what you’ve got in there, but it smells amazing.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just threw together a little lasagna.”

He groaned and pressed a hand to his stomach, both the sound and the action reminding Carley of their time in the laundry room. “Lasagna is my favorite.”

Evelyn’s face broke into a pleased smile, and Carley swore she saw the older woman’s cheeks pinken a little. It seemed Knox had that effect on more than just her.

“I’ll just put this in the oven and set it on low so you can eat it whenever,” Evelyn said, busying herself by putting the dish in the oven and turning it on. “Then I’ll scoot and let you two get back to whatever you were doing.”

“Laundry,” Carley insisted. “We were just doing laundry.”

“I’m sure that’s right,” Evelyn replied, giving her a wink before waving her fingers at Knox. “You take care, Deputy Garrison.”

“You too. Thanks again for the lasagna,” Knox said.

“My pleasure.” She opened the screen door, then let out a little yelp. “Did you know there’s a rather large hog sunning herself on your porch?”

Carley chuckled. “Yes. She probably smelled the lasagna. Although I’ve been told that she prefers not to be referred to as a hog.” She heard the pig give a snort in agreement.

“Sorry, dear, didn’t mean to offend,” Evelyn said, sticking out her hand to give the pig a few affectionate taps on her head as she walked past.

***

The scent of Evelyn’s hot dish had been too tantalizing, so Carley and Knox had filled their plates with slabs of cheesy lasagna and taken them out to the front porch to eat. They chatted easily about people they knew, and Knox had told her about how well Sienna, the new rescue he often came to visit, was doing.

They sat side-by-side on the cushioned glider, the view of the ranch and the mountains spread out in front of them. Carley was surprised by how comfortable she felt with him and how often he made her laugh. Although, as easy as it was to talk to him, she still noticed every time their knees touched, or their shoulders made contact, like they just had as he’d taken their plates and set them on the table in front of them.

It was crazy. She’d just surrendered herself to him on the dryer an hour ago but now her stomach was still getting fluttery every time their knees touched.

He leaned back with a contented sigh. “Well, how does it feel to be in your new home?”

“That’s funny,” she said, turning to look at him as she scooted her body into the corner of the glider. “I was just thinking about that earlier. But I was thinking about how I’ve never really found a place that truly felt like home to me.”

“Never?”

She shrugged. “My dad left us when we were kids, and my mom moved Jillian and me around a lot. She always had a good reason—always searching for the next best thing—new job, new town, usually a new man. We got to the point where no place really felt like home—or maybe we just never let ourselves get too attached or let ourselves think of any place like that.”

“No place?”

She shook her head. “No. Not really.”

“What about when you got married?”

She huffed out a bitter laugh. “For sure not with Paul. We moved several times too, and I just never felt settled with him. Even when I did make the effort to try to create something homey for us, nothing I ever did was good enough, so I guess I just quit trying.”

“I know I’ve never met him, but I really hate that guy.”

“Don’t. He’s not worth wasting the emotion on.”

“Good point. So back to you, what do you think would make some place feel like home?”

“I don’t know.”

He picked up her feet and held them in his lap. “Close your eyes.” She tensed and started to pull her feet back, but he held on, slipping off her shoes then massaging one of her arches with his thumb. “Come on. Trust me. Just close your eyes.”

She warily settled back against the cushion and closed her eyes. Mainly because of the magical massage he was giving her feet.

“Now, when you think of the word home, what do you see?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

He kneaded her sore heels. Dang, the man had great hands. And the sole of her foot easily fit into his palm. “Stop thinking about your feet,” he told her. “Just imagine you’ve gotten off work and you’re driving home. You turn off the road and pull up to a house and all the tension of the day leaves your shoulders because you’ve just arrived home. Now tell me what that house looks like.”

She let out a sigh. “There is a place, I guess.”

“Tell me about it. What color is the house?”

“Blue.”

“Good start. Keep going.”

“It’s like a two-story farmhouse, kind of Victorian-looking with dormer windows upstairs, but it still has a bit of a log cabin feel to it because the bottom part of the house is stone. It’s got a wide wraparound front porch with big pine trees next to it. And it has a red front door.”

“A Victorian-looking log cabin farmhouse?”

Knox’s question had a funny tone to it, and she opened her eyes. “Yep.”

His expression was thoughtful and a bit perplexed. “And you said a red door? You sure about that?”

“Oh yes. It has to have a red door and a white porch swing and two white rocking chairs on the porch next to the door.”

“That’s a pretty specific-sounding description. Have you seen this house before?”

She searched her memory. It had been a long time since she’d thought about the house, but she could still see it clearly in her mind. “Maybe. I’m not sure. You know, our grandparents lived here in Creedence when Jillian and I were kids and we used to come visit them. We loved it here. That’s why I ended up coming back. But I feel like maybe I saw a house like that one time when we were driving home from a day of fishing with my grandpa. It was set back in the trees, like up against the mountains, and I remember thinking that I wished I could live there someday. But I’d been sleeping on that drive back so I’m not sure if I really saw it or just dreamed that I did.”

“You’ve obviously got a pretty clear picture of it in your mind,” Knox said.

“Yeah, I guess I do. So, we must have driven by it.” She shook her head. “Maybe that’s dumb—a house I may have seen once as a kid, or possibly dreamed up, is the place I picture when I think of home.”

“I don’t think it’s dumb at all. It must have been a good memory.”

“It was. And it was a good day. I remember I caught the biggest fish that day, and that hardly ever happened. It had been just Jillian and me with our grandpa, and he had taken us up to a new place, some little mountain stream. My grandma didn’t come with us that day, but she packed us a lunch and I can remember us sitting by the creek, with the sun sparkling off the water, and eating cold fried chicken and my grandma’s lemon bars. She made the best lemon bars ever. And I remember there was a shallow area in the creek, and my grandpa let us swim around in it. Probably scared off all the fish, and the water was freezing, but we didn’t care. When we left, we were wet and exhausted and probably smelled like fish, but it was a perfect day.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Gosh, I haven’t thought about that in years. I’m going to have to call Jillian later and see if she remembers that day.”

“I’ll bet she does. Stuff like that can stick with you. I was close to my grandparents too, and I have great memories of times we’ve spent together.”

She settled back against the seat again and let herself enjoy the feel of Knox’s hands rubbing her feet. “You know, my grandparents meant the world to me. I like that yours were important to you. That might have just added another tally in the ‘Knox-box.’”

“The Knox-box, huh?” His lips curved up in a grin. “How many tallies do I have on my side so far?”

“Enough that it’s making it harder to remember why going out with you is such a bad idea.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He didn’t say anything more, but his grin widened as he continued to rub her feet. Which might have added one more tick to the box.