Designed for Love (Texas Nights) (12 page)

When she shot to the surface, she gasped, trying to thaw her lungs at least.

The smile on Mac’s face could’ve supplied Houston with power for a solid decade. “Way tougher than you look.”

She wrapped her arms around her body, frisking herself to try to thaw her quick-frozen skin. “My goose bumps have goose bumps.”

“Should’ve thought about that before venturing into the deep.”

“Why, is it dangerous?” Come to think of it, his grin did have a sharkish look about it.
Come closer
,
unsuspecting swimmer.
Just a nibble
,
just a taste.
Well, she wanted way more than a nibble.

“More than I ever realized,” he said, and held out his hand to catch hers. Ashton floated toward him until she could feel the heat from his body radiating through the water. That lovely, seductive warmth that not only drew her physically but seemed to act as a magnet for her heart as well. Something told her that if she could just spend time in Mac’s arms, everything else would be just fine.

* * *

Mac drew Ashton toward him even though his brain was shouting a what-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing warning at the top of its lungs. His body gave his brain an elbow to the nose.
Take that
,
you meddling SOB.

Here she was smiling and making jokes just a few hours after Wurzenbach had stomped all over something she cared deeply about. Amazing. Sure, he knew she was concerned by how seriously she had taken the whole thing at the job site. But she wasn’t letting it get her down.

And damned if that didn’t make her even more tempting. All that blond hair and tanned skin was one thing. But her guts and determination were the real turn-on.

Granted, that see-through getup she called underwear wasn’t hurting either. The water lapped at her breasts, but her nipples, tight and hard, were just visible over the surface. What would she do when he scraped his teeth over her? Would she go wild in his arms or push him away? With the way her eyes were gleaming as she came closer inch by inch, he was putting his money on wild. Still, he asked, “What are we doing here?”

“Finishing a job we never finished.” She looked pointedly down at the water as though she could see through it to his Bud-I-sure-know-what-
I’m
-doing dick. Yeah, it was raring to go. Meanwhile, her dog was on the shore going batshit crazy, yipping and yapping. Not exactly the sound of seduction. “You did tell me you always meet your commitments, right?”

Yeah, no matter how painful or pleasurable. And finishing her would definitely be the latter. “We have to work together. What if this—” he rolled a hand between them, “—goes south?”

She continued to advance on him until there was no way she could miss his hard-on. In fact, she was making it a harder-on by swaying back and forth, skimming the tip of his dick with her stomach. “So you’re telling me you don’t guarantee satisfaction? That you’re afraid you might provide inferior craftsmanship?”

He’d never left a woman unsatisfied, even his high school prom date who he’d done on the trunk of his old Chevy Nova. No go, his ass. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I’m an adult, and last time I checked you were too.”

He growled a little, low in his throat, and jerked her toward him so she had no choice but to lose her balance or wrap her legs around his waist. And she wasn’t cold everywhere. That place where her panties rubbed against his stomach was the temperature of a soldering iron. “If we do this, we can’t undo it. And this Lily Lake project could change things for us both. Neither of us can afford to screw it up.”

“I can keep business business and pleasure pleasure if you can.”

“You’re trying to make a home here, but Ashton, I’m not staying long-term.”

“I’m not offering you a diamond ring and a minivan. Isn’t it okay to blow off a little steam, have a little fun once in a while?”

From his way of thinking, having a little fun could have serious consequences, but he’d had precious little lately so he cupped her barely covered butt in his hands and positioned her exactly where he wanted her. Now her heat was pressed up close and personal with his cock.

In response, she squeezed her thighs to lift herself, sliding up and slowly down again. Just that simple touch had her closing her eyes and arching her neck. But no way would he let her get to where she wanted to go without his help.

Mac bent his head and pulled down one of her bra cups with his teeth. Then he scraped them over her tight little nipple. And yeah, that had her hips moving again. Up, down, with a little grind tossed in. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and played it with his tongue. God, even in the middle of a lake, she tasted like a day at the beach.

She gripped him so tight that her nails scored his shoulder blades, a pain of pleasurable proportions. He wanted to reach down and rip those innocent-looking panties right off her body. Open her wide and push into all that sweet heat. But he didn’t exactly have a condom stashed on him anywhere.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t get her off. Even with the cool water all around him, sweat beaded on his face. He worked his hand lower, skimmed his fingers between her legs. That spurred another reflexive thrust of her hips. He released her breast long enough to say, “Patience.”

One by one, her muscles lost their tension, and she relaxed in his hold. And that was when he decided he would definitely be seeing Ashton Davenport in a blissed-out, post-orgasm state after he was inside her. That she wasn’t back-talking him was reason enough, but he already knew the sex itself would be explosive. This woman didn’t do anything by half measures.

Mac slowly worked his fingers inside her panties. And if he thought that silk or satin was soft, it had absolutely nothing on the slick feel of her sex. That was the fucking center of the universe.

He slipped his fingertips over her flesh, enjoying the texture and heat. Back and forth, right and left. He memorized every spot, but avoided her clit.

“Mac, do you have a mallet in your truck?” There was a definite threat behind Ashton’s words.

“Uh...yeah.”

“If you don’t stop meandering around down there—”
Ow
,
dammit.
She’d leaned down and bitten his earlobe. “—I’m going use your mallet on you.”

A woman who threatened him with his own tools, what wasn’t there to love about that? Mac froze.
Uh-uh.
This...thing...wasn’t about love. It was about passing the time in a pleasurable way. He had enough to atone for with the people he already loved. No way his life could handle more guilt.

“I’m serious, Mac.” Yeah, that was a definite growl, so he shook off his thoughts.

“This good enough for you?” He pushed two fingers into her body, and she contracted around them.

“Mediocre,” she panted. “Surely you can do better.”

“If that’s the way you feel.” He drew both his hand and body back, supporting her with only one palm. “I guess there’s no point in—”

“Screw the mallet, I’m going for the sledgehammer if you don’t put your hand back.”

Laughter rumbled up from his chest. “The stick never worked on the donkey.”

“Like I would give a carrot to a man who’s being an ass.” She thrashed in his hold, going all debutante on him.

In retaliation, he simply grabbed her other butt cheek and pulled her tight against his hard-on. “Pretty sure I’m the one with the carrot.”

For that, she bit his shoulder. “If you start quoting a Bruno Mars song to me, I seriously can’t be held responsible for the bodily damage I inflict—”

He hauled her up and cut her off with a kiss. She tasted of lake water and sass. Before she could kiss him back, he had his hand between her legs again, fingers inside her and thumb teasing her clit. All that indignation simply melted against him as she rode his fingers and moaned into his mouth. If he’d realized it was this easy to shut her up, he would’ve done her up against the cans of chili in the Piggly Wiggly.

Mr. Romance, that was him. But by the noises Ashton was making, she obviously thought he did romance just fine.

Suddenly, she broke their kiss, her breasts rising and falling with her shallow breaths. “Am I getting heavy?”

Jumping Jesus, only a woman would be sixty seconds away from coming and worry about her weight. “Water. Buoyancy.”

“Good, because...”

He circled her clit, increasing the pressure a little with each rotation, and Ashton threw her head back and made such a sound of pleasure that it ricocheted through Mac’s body and settled in his dick. That one guttural groan, and he was now forcing back his own orgasm. As soon as she went over, he was dragging her out of this water and—

She pumped her hips twice against his hand, and her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm. Her muscles held his fingers captive and pulsed around them. God, he wanted all that heat, all that pleasure around his cock. Yesterday.

In her boneless state, it was easy enough for Mac to slip her around his body until she clung to his back. “Hold on.”

“Should’ve told me that before,” she slurred against his neck, but she tightened her arms and legs around him.

Mac trudged through the water toward the shore with one destination in mind.

“What about our clothes?” she asked.

“Won’t need ’em where we’re going.”

“What about my dog?”

“He’s not invited.”

Ashton slapped his chest. “A bear could eat him.”

“If only it was that easy to get rid of him.” Still, he leaned down and hefted her bag with Napoleon still inside. “Don’t try anything, dog.” Because he sure couldn’t protect his naked ass carrying Ashton in this piggyback hold. He was halfway up the path, thinking about all the ways he would rock Ashton’s world when the tune of “I Shot the Sheriff” drifted from where they’d left their clothes.

Ashton’s head lifted from his shoulder. “That’s the ringtone I assigned Beck. I should answer it.”

He turned around to head back for the lake, but working more than a decade in the construction business had given him a vocabulary full of cuss words. And under his breath, he was using every damn one of them.

Chapter Eleven

Ashton made a graceless dismount from Mac’s back, scooped up her pants in one hand and her phone in the other. “Beck—” she tried to will her heartbeat to settle because that one word came out a little breathless, “—is something wrong?”

“Just wanted to let you know Mr. Wurzenbach made bail faster than expected and has been released.”

“Dammit.” A little more time to get her act together would’ve been nice. “Any idea where he was headed?”

“One of my deputies meandered along behind him until he hit the county line.”

Could it be that simple? Maybe he’d realized messing with her job site wasn’t worth sitting in a jail cell. A tickle of relief worked its way into her lungs. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure thing.”

Ashton clicked off her phone and, as the sun sank the last few inches over the trees surrounding the lake, remembered she was dripping wet. Shivers rippled over her, then she was enveloped in a warm shirt about five sizes too big for her. Burrowing into it and inhaling the scent of sawdust and clean sweat, she turned to find Mac had put on his shorts, covering too much of his amazing body. “Did you have to climb the tree?”

“Turns out you really do throw like a girl. They’d already fallen to the ground.”

Which was too damn bad.

Then again, she and Mac really needed to talk about that criminal mischief Professor Wurzenbach had stirred up. The man might be gone for now, but his actions would still cost the project time and money. It was time to find out just how much of each. So she buttoned Mac’s shirt up to her throat to ward off both the chill and temptation.

The half smile Mac wore told her he also knew playtime had been trumped by the real world. And when he reached out and took her hand in his, Ashton’s heart puffed up. She actually rubbed her chest with her fist trying to get the damn thing to deflate.
Control yourself.
Don’t get all excited.
He’s not yours to keep.
He’s just a loaner.

“Did I give you indigestion or was it Beck’s news?”

She dropped her arm. “Wurzenbach’s out of jail.”

“Hope the door hit him in the ass on his way out.”

She slugged Mac in the biceps. Seeing as she had to make an awkward half turn to do it, she hit like a girl too. “He’s just an old man looking for a mission.”

Mac grunted.

They walked side by side up the path toward Mac’s trailer, but she stopped in the clearing. If she went inside his place, they both knew what would happen. And right now, their long-term futures had to take precedence over an immediate payoff. “We need to talk about what happens next and how bad it really is.”

Mac scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’ve gotta be freezing.”

She pulled him toward the fire pit made of rocks ranging from the size of her fist to cantaloupes. “Maybe you could start a fire.”

“Not exactly the kind of heat I was hoping for earlier.” Still, he stalked over to a woodpile and pulled out several logs, then grabbed sticks for kindling from the underbrush.

Ashton took that opportunity to strip off her wet bra and panties and pull on her pants. She had to wiggle a little to get them over her damp, chilled skin and she glanced up to find Mac stopped halfway back to the fire pit, his focus on her breasts jiggling under his shirt. Not much she could do other than cross her arms over her still-hard nipples. “Fire, Mac.”

He popped out of his trance and went to work.

Once he had a little blaze going, Ashton asked, “Be straight with me. How bad is it?”

“We’ll have to pour another layer of concrete over the existing one to get the look you were going for.”

“How much?”

“Even though it’s a mess, the concrete’s gotta dry more before we can do another pour. While we’re waiting, I can track down a grinder. But it’s a pretty scarce piece of machinery. Sometimes there’s a waiting list to get one from the rental places.”

“And the cost?”

“The grinder’s not bad. Less than $500 for the week. But the pour? We want it done right, it’ll be close to what we paid before even though it’s less mud.”

She flopped into Mac’s hammock and stared up at the stars through the tree branches. Wink, blink.
It’s all just a cosmic joke on you
,
Ashton Davenport.
“Do we have any other options?”

“We could just fill in the footprints.” By the edge to his voice, it was clear he was disappointed in that option as well.

“But it wouldn’t be nearly as beautiful or unique.”

“No.”

“Can we—” Time to face reality. She was just a small part of the success of this project. “Can
you
fix it in the time we have available?”

“It will be tight. I’ll have to ask the crew to work on the weekend. And that’ll cost us too.” He looked up from where he was poking at the fire, clearly leaving the decision to her.

Her breath backed up in her lungs. Oh, God. The pressure. She wasn’t qualified to do this. Why had she thought for one instant she could manage a project of this scope? She was in way over her head and—

Stop it.
Stop all this crappy self-talk.
Self-doubt.

She had this man—her secret weapon—by her side. And if she quit now, Mac would also lose the opportunity to show his competitors in Dallas that he was back in the game. Not just back in the game, but kicking ass and taking names.

She could do this. She and Mac could do this together.

Ashton released the air in her lungs in one smooth, confident stream. “The only direction we’re going is forward.”

* * *

As Mac had expected, it would be a week before he could get his hands on a grinder and the fucking permit still hadn’t come through for the over-water deck. He wasn’t good with hurry-up-and-wait scenarios. But they were stuck, so he was spending the day working in his mom’s shop. The door between this space and Ashton’s was firmly closed. Because obviously, they were back to business as usual. And business only.

Smart because neither he nor Ashton could afford the distraction of a...hell, he didn’t know what to call it.
Relationship
made it sound like something it wasn’t. Couldn’t be. And
booty call
didn’t come close to what he was feeling for this woman. Which meant going hands-off was the smartest call they could make.

Through the connecting wall he heard the muted ring of a phone and Ashton’s low voice and indistinct words as she answered. God, here he was mooning over the sound of her voice when he had work to do. He was a grade-A idiot.

Mac slipped on his protective glasses and mask and turned on his sander to finish up the prep work on the shelves and other fixtures. Within seconds, he was surrounded by wood dust, but its haze didn’t do a damn thing to block out the memory of Ashton in his arms—hot, wild, and taking exactly what she wanted. Even though he shouldn’t, he still wanted to see her that way again. This time, though, he wanted to be inside her when she went over.

Bzzz.
Pain ripped across Mac’s hand. And holy fuck, that was the reason a man shouldn’t think about sex while operating power tools. He’d damn near sanded off the top layer of skin from his knuckles. He had to put things in their separate compartments. His mom’s shop. The Lily Lake project. And the one that held Ashton and him making love? Well, that one needed to be slammed closed and shoved into the corner of his internal toolbox. Because he knew better than anyone that chasing the feel-good could destroy all the is-good in a man’s life.

He redirected the sander and tried like hell to concentrate on the shelf before him. Before he could completely regain his focus, that connecting door eased open and Napoleon darted inside to dance in and out of the extension cord.

“Sit,” Mac ordered. Napoleon plopped his furry butt on a brown paper bag, the one Mac had packed a sandwich and chips in. Nothing like eating a dog-butt-flattened Spam and cheese for lunch. When he glanced back a few seconds later, he realized that wouldn’t be a problem. Because the dog’s head was buried in the sack, and his tail was wagging ninety-to-nothing. “Dammit, dog. Get out of there.”

Napoleon backed out licking his chops and smiling from floppy ear to ear. Without prompting, he sat and held up his left paw. So that was all it took to get on his good side. Finally, Mac knew the secret to keep the dog from inflicting bodily damage.

But when his owner walked through that same door wearing the purple suit that showed off the legs she’d wrapped so tightly around him, and the breasts he’d barely had a chance to enjoy, now that did some damage. It hit him like that sledgehammer she’d threatened him with. Between the legs, he could’ve handled. But Ashton Davenport was a direct shot to that half-dead tissue of Mac’s heart.

And fuck-all if that didn’t hurt way more than a sander to the knuckles.

He needed to get her job done, finish his mom’s place, and get the hell out of Shelbyville. No doubt he’d come back to visit his mom from time to time, but he’d be too busy rebuilding his business to obsess over what this woman was doing every day. She’d find another GC to build out the rest of the Lily Lake project. He’d never promised her more than this first phase. So why was his chest burning? Couldn’t be the feeling of guilt. Because that hit a man deep in the gut, made him queasy for the rest of his damned life.

This was more like industrial-strength indigestion.

Wasn’t about Ashton. He was just getting too involved with the project.

Bullshit yourself much
,
McLaughlin?

From the way she was gripping her hands together to the
tap-tap
of her high-heeled shoe, everything about Ashton shouted brittle tension. “Wurzenbach isn’t gone.”

“It is a free country.” Mac unplugged the sander, wrapped the cord and placed it high on a shelf. “As long as he isn’t—”

“Apparently, he is. He’s staging some kind of sit-in at the job site. Has tied himself to the temporary power pole.”

“Sonofabitch.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, but his thoughts didn’t clear. “Did you call Beck?”

“He’s the one who called me.”

“Can’t he do something about this guy? I mean, he’s trespassing again.” Wurzenbach either had big balls or just way too much time on his hands.

“Well, he and his deputies are a little busy with something else.”

The flat tone of her voice made Mac’s stomach cramp the way it did when his sister Amanda made her secret-recipe chicken and dumplings. And he was pretty sure that secret was an entire can of black pepper and a bottle of Louisiana hot sauce.

Tap-tap-tap
of her toe. Ashton shifted and tapped the other one. “And apparently our job site is swarming with media people.”

“Press? Doesn’t the
Shelbyville Sentinel
only have two reporters?”

“I don’t think it’s the traditional press. Beck said something about environmentalist bloggers.”

“What the hell do people care about a privately owned piece of property?”

“Apparently species murder is tantalizing stuff.”

Mac unbuckled his tool belt. He couldn’t help that he was dressed like a carpenter instead of a company owner today, but he smoothed his hair and straightened his shirt collar.

“What are you doing?” She tracked his movements, which both soothed and stimulated the nerve endings under his skin.

“I assume you need to get out there and make some kind of statement.”

Suddenly, her toe tapping stopped, and her shoulders dropped three inches. “What I want is to go home, climb into my bed and never come out. Or maybe hide in the closet.”

Nothing worse in the world than seeing a strong woman doubt herself. He’d seen his mom and sisters do it too many times, especially after his dad’s death. But rather than getting mired down in his own mistakes, Mac went to Ashton and wrapped his arms around her.

She burrowed her face into the spot between his shoulder and neck, her breath warm and choppy against his skin. Choppy wasn’t good. Choppy was the prelude to tears. He rubbed a hand over her back, trying to ignore the way his rough palm snagged the fabric of her jacket.

“Why did she ask me to do this?” she whispered against him. “She knows I’ve never succeeded at something half this big. Half this important.”

“Sometimes the people who love us see strength in us we couldn’t in a million years recognize ourselves.”

“I’m not strong.” Those three words were a little garbled.

Mac wove his fingers into her hair, not giving a damn that he was messing up her complicated twist. He tugged lightly on the strands, urging her to look into his face. “Is this the same woman who threatened me with a sixteen-pound sledgehammer?”

Her short laugh was a shade too watery. “If I’d known how heavy it was, I would’ve never said that.”

“Ashton, you’ve done nothing but surprise me since we started this project. And you’ve worked hard to get this project off the ground. You’re telling me you’re willing to just throw in the towel?”

“Nothing about this has gone smoothly. For God’s sake, my original GC dropped dead at my feet.”

“Sad, sure. But you didn’t let that stop you.”

“Maybe I need to listen to what the universe is telling me. And right now, it’s shouting ‘Ashton Davenport, stop trying to do anything more complicated than getting a manicure and a pedicure at the same time.’”

“Tell me, would you be happy to go back? Do whatever it is you used to do in Houston? Because when you’re not beating yourself up, you seem happy in this little town. And if you drop this project, what’ll happen to Lily Lake? You told me yourself that your grandmother is tempted to sell the whole thing off. And if some other developer gets his or her hands on this piece of land, do you think they’ll give a damn about what’s best for the people in Shelbyville? No, they’ll be looking at the dollar signs only. What will make the biggest buck in the shortest amount of time. And everything you’ve promised this community will be a lie.” He lowered his voice, forced her chin up so she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Is that who you are—a pretty little liar?”

“You’re trying to make me mad.”

“Told you that you were sharp.” Some of the tension inside him eased. “Is it working?”