going on?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I'm just working on this sideboard, and it's too big for me to move it. I have no idea how I'm going to get this thing across the room. I'll have to see if the guy in the shop next door can help me tomorrow.”
There were muffled voices on the other end of the phone, as if Dad had covered the receiver while he talked to someone. Then he came back on. “Bram's on his way over to help you.”
What? “No, Dad, it's okay, really.”
“Too late. I've given him marching orders. He does enough working out, he can move some furniture for you and put those muscles to good use.”
“But—”
“No buts. He's already on his way.” And he hung up.
Could my day possibly get worse? I was so panicked I actually thought of getting in my car and making an escape before Bram got here. But no, that was the coward's way out. I ran into the little bathroom at the back of my shop and splashed water on my face. Under the harsh fluorescent light, I looked like hell in the mirror. I'd put makeup on this morning to work in the shop, but now most of it was gone, worn off while I'd been sweating in the back room. I pulled my hair from its ponytail and let it fall to my shoulders. I tried to fluff it, but it was no use. I couldn't make myself look hot without at least a shower and an hour's work.
I didn't even ask myself why I wanted to look hot for Bram.
I adjusted my boobs in my bra under my shirt, perking them up a bit, and hoped the flush on my skin would calm down by the time he got here.
He didn't take long. There was a knock on the back door, and I opened it to see Bram standing in the rain, looking at me.
“Summer,” he said.
I stepped back and let him in. He swiped a hand quickly through his short hair, brushing the water out of it, and looked around. “You have a lot of stuff here,” he said.
I realized he hadn't seen my shop yet. And at the same time, I realized in a bolt of electricity that we were alone. Completely alone. I was in private with Bram for the first time in six years.
“Yeah,” I said. “I buy stuff from auctions, estate sales, that kind of thing. I refinish it back here, then I put it out front to sell it.”
“Not bad,” he said. I cursed myself for the tingle of happiness I got from the compliment. “This what you need moved?” he asked, gesturing to the sideboard.
“Yes. I need it over there. I can take one end, I just can't move the whole thing.”
“Don't worry about it, I got it.” He gripped it, picked it up as if it was styrofoam and swung it around. God, he was fucking huge. He was wearing the gray hoodie again, but as he worked he unzipped it and shrugged it off, revealing a black t-shirt. I looked at the dragon that crawled up the side of his neck, the same dragon that had fascinated me at my dad's wedding so long ago.
His muscles flexed as he picked up the sideboard again, moving it carefully, and I felt an answering pulse between my legs. Maybe this day wasn't so bad after all. I should hire Bram to come over here and lift things every day as I watched. He could fling furniture around until he had a fine film of sweat on those muscles. Maybe I'd turn up the heat so he'd have to take his shirt off. And when he was finished, I'd lick every drop of sweat off him.
Now I was getting hot. I cleared my throat.
“There,” he said when the sideboard was in place. He turned around and looked at me, a half smile on his face. “Enjoy the view?”
I shrugged. “It's okay, I guess.”
“Sure,” he said, coming toward me. “I think you just undressed me with your eyes.”
“Bram, you have a big ego.”
“Not really. I just know you, Summer. I know what you look like when you're mentally undressing me. I've seen it enough times.”
He was getting to me. He was always getting to me. I tried to keep my defenses up. “I was eighteen. I didn't know any better.”
“Didn't you?” He stepped closer to me, then traced a finger along my
“Nothing,” I said. “I'm just working on this sideboard, and it's too big for me to move it. I have no idea how I'm going to get this thing across the room. I'll have to see if the guy in the shop next door can help me tomorrow.”
There were muffled voices on the other end of the phone, as if Dad had covered the receiver while he talked to someone. Then he came back on. “Bram's on his way over to help you.”
What? “No, Dad, it's okay, really.”
“Too late. I've given him marching orders. He does enough working out, he can move some furniture for you and put those muscles to good use.”
“But—”
“No buts. He's already on his way.” And he hung up.
Could my day possibly get worse? I was so panicked I actually thought of getting in my car and making an escape before Bram got here. But no, that was the coward's way out. I ran into the little bathroom at the back of my shop and splashed water on my face. Under the harsh fluorescent light, I looked like hell in the mirror. I'd put makeup on this morning to work in the shop, but now most of it was gone, worn off while I'd been sweating in the back room. I pulled my hair from its ponytail and let it fall to my shoulders. I tried to fluff it, but it was no use. I couldn't make myself look hot without at least a shower and an hour's work.
I didn't even ask myself why I wanted to look hot for Bram.
I adjusted my boobs in my bra under my shirt, perking them up a bit, and hoped the flush on my skin would calm down by the time he got here.
He didn't take long. There was a knock on the back door, and I opened it to see Bram standing in the rain, looking at me.
“Summer,” he said.
I stepped back and let him in. He swiped a hand quickly through his short hair, brushing the water out of it, and looked around. “You have a lot of stuff here,” he said.
I realized he hadn't seen my shop yet. And at the same time, I realized in a bolt of electricity that we were alone. Completely alone. I was in private with Bram for the first time in six years.
“Yeah,” I said. “I buy stuff from auctions, estate sales, that kind of thing. I refinish it back here, then I put it out front to sell it.”
“Not bad,” he said. I cursed myself for the tingle of happiness I got from the compliment. “This what you need moved?” he asked, gesturing to the sideboard.
“Yes. I need it over there. I can take one end, I just can't move the whole thing.”
“Don't worry about it, I got it.” He gripped it, picked it up as if it was styrofoam and swung it around. God, he was fucking huge. He was wearing the gray hoodie again, but as he worked he unzipped it and shrugged it off, revealing a black t-shirt. I looked at the dragon that crawled up the side of his neck, the same dragon that had fascinated me at my dad's wedding so long ago.
His muscles flexed as he picked up the sideboard again, moving it carefully, and I felt an answering pulse between my legs. Maybe this day wasn't so bad after all. I should hire Bram to come over here and lift things every day as I watched. He could fling furniture around until he had a fine film of sweat on those muscles. Maybe I'd turn up the heat so he'd have to take his shirt off. And when he was finished, I'd lick every drop of sweat off him.
Now I was getting hot. I cleared my throat.
“There,” he said when the sideboard was in place. He turned around and looked at me, a half smile on his face. “Enjoy the view?”
I shrugged. “It's okay, I guess.”
“Sure,” he said, coming toward me. “I think you just undressed me with your eyes.”
“Bram, you have a big ego.”
“Not really. I just know you, Summer. I know what you look like when you're mentally undressing me. I've seen it enough times.”
He was getting to me. He was always getting to me. I tried to keep my defenses up. “I was eighteen. I didn't know any better.”
“Didn't you?” He stepped closer to me, then traced a finger along my
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