to the other shoe. She desperately hoped he couldn’t see how her hands suddenly trembled.
She took in quiet , measured breaths attempting to control her heart rate. Even though she had glanced up at him only a second, his image had burned in her mind. She knew without looking that his jeans and t-shirt molded deliciously to his body, though they looked as if he had just stolen them from a perfectly formed mannequin. Even like this, weeks later, he still had the ability to take her breath away. In the scant two weeks she had not seen him, she’d almost been able to convince herself that the kisses they’d shared had been fortuitous, that their electric connection had been a figment of her overactive imagination.
Ryan offered his hand to help her stand when she finished tying her shoe. She grasped his strong fingers reluctantly. Touching him was like putting her hand to fire. How could she have not remembered the flame that burned between them? She instinctively pulled her hand back and, a little unstable, she lost her balance, tipping and landing against his broad muscular chest. She straightened up, but their bodies were still joined, breast to hip. Losing her balance felt like a metaphor of their relationship up until now. When she was around him, she felt unbalanced. She looked up at him and knew that her feelings showed on her face.
As Sophie got her bearings, her awareness of Ryan increased in proportion to the sudden hardness of his erection that swelled against her stomach. Afraid that she had shown too much vulnerability in that brief moment, Sophie’s quickly slid her public mask back in place. Miming a cigar between her fingers, she put on her best Groucho Marx voice. “Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
He tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. “I think we’ll need to finish this later,” he said, then kissed her somewhat chastely on the lips, probably sensitive to the fact that one of the young residents could come in at any time. Her breathing accelerated, her arousal quickly matching his. The tips of her breasts felt like they were on fire even through the thick layers of her sports bra and overalls.
Holly popped her head back into the room at just the wrong moment. She slapped her free hand over her eyes dramatically. “I’m not seeing anything. Just make sure the residents don’t either,” she said, sounding a little schoolmarms. Sophie knew that she was in the wrong and decided it was probably unwise to comment on her friend’s prudish tone just now. Holly peeked between her now separated fingers.
“Ryan, why don’t you help me unload the trees and plants from the delivery truck?”
“I’ll be with you in just one second,” Ryan said, though his gaze never broke from Sophie’s. Looking down, he cautiously put a few inches between him and Sophie.
“We’re not even close to done here, Ms. Sophie Reid,” he whispered. After he adjusted what needed adjusting, he followed Holly from the room.
With all the volunteers accounted for by nine thirty, Holly pulled out a very efficient looking clipboard and delegated duties. The kids from the center and those Nick had invited from a charter school he was involved with were assigned to yard duty, removing the dead and dying brush and planting donated plants and saplings. Whether it was a blessing or curse Sophie didn’t yet know, but she was assigned to painting duty with Dominic, Nick, Ryan, and Holly. She was glad there wasn’t much time to talk that morning.
They spread out drop cloths in the rooms to be painted and covered up the few pieces of remaining furniture. Dominic, who was semi-retired from dozens of years as a general contractor, gave them a quick yet thorough lesson in painting with rollers, and they got to work. Starting in one of the girls’ rooms, Dominic painted the edges of the ceiling, cutting in the corners. Sophie and Holly, working together, filled in the ceilings with the
She took in quiet , measured breaths attempting to control her heart rate. Even though she had glanced up at him only a second, his image had burned in her mind. She knew without looking that his jeans and t-shirt molded deliciously to his body, though they looked as if he had just stolen them from a perfectly formed mannequin. Even like this, weeks later, he still had the ability to take her breath away. In the scant two weeks she had not seen him, she’d almost been able to convince herself that the kisses they’d shared had been fortuitous, that their electric connection had been a figment of her overactive imagination.
Ryan offered his hand to help her stand when she finished tying her shoe. She grasped his strong fingers reluctantly. Touching him was like putting her hand to fire. How could she have not remembered the flame that burned between them? She instinctively pulled her hand back and, a little unstable, she lost her balance, tipping and landing against his broad muscular chest. She straightened up, but their bodies were still joined, breast to hip. Losing her balance felt like a metaphor of their relationship up until now. When she was around him, she felt unbalanced. She looked up at him and knew that her feelings showed on her face.
As Sophie got her bearings, her awareness of Ryan increased in proportion to the sudden hardness of his erection that swelled against her stomach. Afraid that she had shown too much vulnerability in that brief moment, Sophie’s quickly slid her public mask back in place. Miming a cigar between her fingers, she put on her best Groucho Marx voice. “Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
He tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. “I think we’ll need to finish this later,” he said, then kissed her somewhat chastely on the lips, probably sensitive to the fact that one of the young residents could come in at any time. Her breathing accelerated, her arousal quickly matching his. The tips of her breasts felt like they were on fire even through the thick layers of her sports bra and overalls.
Holly popped her head back into the room at just the wrong moment. She slapped her free hand over her eyes dramatically. “I’m not seeing anything. Just make sure the residents don’t either,” she said, sounding a little schoolmarms. Sophie knew that she was in the wrong and decided it was probably unwise to comment on her friend’s prudish tone just now. Holly peeked between her now separated fingers.
“Ryan, why don’t you help me unload the trees and plants from the delivery truck?”
“I’ll be with you in just one second,” Ryan said, though his gaze never broke from Sophie’s. Looking down, he cautiously put a few inches between him and Sophie.
“We’re not even close to done here, Ms. Sophie Reid,” he whispered. After he adjusted what needed adjusting, he followed Holly from the room.
With all the volunteers accounted for by nine thirty, Holly pulled out a very efficient looking clipboard and delegated duties. The kids from the center and those Nick had invited from a charter school he was involved with were assigned to yard duty, removing the dead and dying brush and planting donated plants and saplings. Whether it was a blessing or curse Sophie didn’t yet know, but she was assigned to painting duty with Dominic, Nick, Ryan, and Holly. She was glad there wasn’t much time to talk that morning.
They spread out drop cloths in the rooms to be painted and covered up the few pieces of remaining furniture. Dominic, who was semi-retired from dozens of years as a general contractor, gave them a quick yet thorough lesson in painting with rollers, and they got to work. Starting in one of the girls’ rooms, Dominic painted the edges of the ceiling, cutting in the corners. Sophie and Holly, working together, filled in the ceilings with the
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