Every erogenous zone roared back to sudden, urgent, demanding life.
She must have made some sort of sound, for in an instant he stopped his slow walk.
“Mrs. Brewster? Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Except she kept remembering the way he had looked when he first walked into the shop, before she knew who he was. And the way he grinned. And the slight suggestion in his voice when she told him to get in the truck and he said he liked a woman who took charge.
Most of all she kept feeling that touch on her back, over and over. Heat pooled low in her belly. Her skin prickled with awareness. Even without contact she felt him moving. Every hesitant footfall echoed through her, pulling her focus back to that spot where she could still feel him. And each time it replayed in her mind her breath came a little faster.
“You’re sure you’re okay? You sound like you’re hyperventilating or something.”
Hyperventilating? More like panting with excitement. All she had to do was turn around and he would be there.... It could happen. It would be so easy. In less than a heartbeat she could be running her hands up that chest, pulling his shirt up to feel hot flesh against her, around her, maybe even in her....
“Lydia?”
“I’m fine. Really.” At least she would be, if ever there was some light to break this spell. “Can you find the door?”
“Hang on. It’s a little stiff. One good shove should—there!”
With a grunt from him and a squeal from the hinges, the door gave way. Light poured back in. Lyddie squinted against the brightness and saw J.T. outside, hunting on the ground, then propping a rock against the door.
“There.” He brushed off his hands and stepped back inside. “Sorry about that. Caught me by surprise.”
He wasn’t the only one.
“It should stay open now, but if you’d rather go someplace else, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“No, I...” Oh, great. She was so befuddled from the hormone surge that she could barely remember why she’d brought him here. Was this how it felt to be a man, left temporarily brain-dead when the blood headed south?
Breathe, Lyddie. You are not some idiot teenager in the middle of her first infatuation, you’re a grown woman with an adult job in front of you. Get with the program.
“It’s hot in the sun. Let’s stay here.”
“You’re sure? I don’t dare offer you a seat. I didn’t expect it to be so dusty. It’s not the way I remembered it.”
For a moment she forgot about the sale. This was the first time he’d been in his father’s boathouse since Roy’s death. Probably the first time he’d been here in twenty-five years.
Her heart ached for him. She knew all about those firsts.
“I’m sorry. We can leave if you’d rather.”
He shrugged, but without any of the cockiness she’d noticed in their earlier encounters. “I had to come back sometime.”
That he did. And that, too, she understood, all too well.
“So what was on your mind?”
She dragged her gaze away from his face—that way lay danger, which she could tell by the low current of warmth still humming through her when she looked at him—and focused on the patch of sunshine in the far corner.
“I called my lawyer today. I asked him to read over my lease and see if I had any rights of first refusal on the property.”
“You don’t. I already checked.”
Give the man credit. At least he wasn’t gloating.
“I know that now. Anyway, he let me in on another little item he thought I should know about.” She crossed her arms as the memory stabbed her once again. “He told me that all sales in the business zone must be approved by the planning board.”
“Right.”
“ And that they would never let me buy just my building, because I share a parking lot with Patty’s Pizza.”
“You’re kidding.”
Another bonus point. He sounded truly, sincerely astonished by this news.
“Are you really surprised, or are you just a great actor?”
“You thought I knew?”
She turned
She must have made some sort of sound, for in an instant he stopped his slow walk.
“Mrs. Brewster? Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Except she kept remembering the way he had looked when he first walked into the shop, before she knew who he was. And the way he grinned. And the slight suggestion in his voice when she told him to get in the truck and he said he liked a woman who took charge.
Most of all she kept feeling that touch on her back, over and over. Heat pooled low in her belly. Her skin prickled with awareness. Even without contact she felt him moving. Every hesitant footfall echoed through her, pulling her focus back to that spot where she could still feel him. And each time it replayed in her mind her breath came a little faster.
“You’re sure you’re okay? You sound like you’re hyperventilating or something.”
Hyperventilating? More like panting with excitement. All she had to do was turn around and he would be there.... It could happen. It would be so easy. In less than a heartbeat she could be running her hands up that chest, pulling his shirt up to feel hot flesh against her, around her, maybe even in her....
“Lydia?”
“I’m fine. Really.” At least she would be, if ever there was some light to break this spell. “Can you find the door?”
“Hang on. It’s a little stiff. One good shove should—there!”
With a grunt from him and a squeal from the hinges, the door gave way. Light poured back in. Lyddie squinted against the brightness and saw J.T. outside, hunting on the ground, then propping a rock against the door.
“There.” He brushed off his hands and stepped back inside. “Sorry about that. Caught me by surprise.”
He wasn’t the only one.
“It should stay open now, but if you’d rather go someplace else, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“No, I...” Oh, great. She was so befuddled from the hormone surge that she could barely remember why she’d brought him here. Was this how it felt to be a man, left temporarily brain-dead when the blood headed south?
Breathe, Lyddie. You are not some idiot teenager in the middle of her first infatuation, you’re a grown woman with an adult job in front of you. Get with the program.
“It’s hot in the sun. Let’s stay here.”
“You’re sure? I don’t dare offer you a seat. I didn’t expect it to be so dusty. It’s not the way I remembered it.”
For a moment she forgot about the sale. This was the first time he’d been in his father’s boathouse since Roy’s death. Probably the first time he’d been here in twenty-five years.
Her heart ached for him. She knew all about those firsts.
“I’m sorry. We can leave if you’d rather.”
He shrugged, but without any of the cockiness she’d noticed in their earlier encounters. “I had to come back sometime.”
That he did. And that, too, she understood, all too well.
“So what was on your mind?”
She dragged her gaze away from his face—that way lay danger, which she could tell by the low current of warmth still humming through her when she looked at him—and focused on the patch of sunshine in the far corner.
“I called my lawyer today. I asked him to read over my lease and see if I had any rights of first refusal on the property.”
“You don’t. I already checked.”
Give the man credit. At least he wasn’t gloating.
“I know that now. Anyway, he let me in on another little item he thought I should know about.” She crossed her arms as the memory stabbed her once again. “He told me that all sales in the business zone must be approved by the planning board.”
“Right.”
“ And that they would never let me buy just my building, because I share a parking lot with Patty’s Pizza.”
“You’re kidding.”
Another bonus point. He sounded truly, sincerely astonished by this news.
“Are you really surprised, or are you just a great actor?”
“You thought I knew?”
She turned
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