Naked (6 page)

“She’s lucky I haven’t run into her because if I ever do, she’s going to get my fist in her face.” Just as Noah had been protective of his sisters when they were younger—still was—Paige was equally as fierce. “I’ve been doing the T25 workout. I can throw a punch now.”

Noah laughed.

“What Paige is trying to say is ‘temporary’ is just your middle name. You’re never questioned using that MO before.” Charlotte waved her hand. “So just do her.”

“This coming from the girl who’s never had a real boyfriend.” That had been their assumption all this time because Charlotte had never once brought anyone home.

“I have a boyfriend,” Ariel piped up from between his sisters. “His name is Danny and we spend every recess together.”

“Even my nine-year-old niece has a boyfriend.” Charlotte waved one hand in the air and let it flop to the couch. “My life is pathetic.”

“Don’t you worry, little brother,” Paige said in her most reassuring voice. “Charlotte will figure out what’s wrong with her.”

Other than the fact that Violet was keeping secrets, there couldn’t be anything wrong with her. But she brought back an uneasiness he’d just as soon forget. Memories of a time when he’d always felt a little less than good enough.

But he’d be lying if he said that mystery didn’t add some intrigue.

When his father had died, he’d learned a valuable lesson: everything could be taken away at a moment’s notice. Everything was temporary. He believed that, and he lived his life at a distance, enjoying things with a noncommittal attitude so he was never disappointed when it ended.

Until he’d met Megan.

He’d thrown that philosophy out the window, grabbed on to her with both hands, and believed her lies, believed her when she’d said he was enough. But familial pressure and selfishness had gotten the best of her, and it had all been taken away.

He vowed never to go against his gut instinct again.

“Kids…dinner,” their mother said from the entryway. “Paige, you get the drinks. Charlotte, you’re in charge of salad, and Noah, I’ve left the roast for you to carve.”

He knew he was drawing sweeping conclusions about Violet, pigeonholing her into the same mold as Megan because she’d wanted discretion. But he had nothing else to go on.

Skittish Violet had kept a wall up between them during their entire date, an air of hesitation lacing their more intimate interactions. She’d wanted him. That much was obvious. But he got the impression she wasn’t accustomed to being the aggressor.

So maybe it was time that someone taught her how to take what she wanted.

Chapter 5

There was another car in the driveway. He’d said Saturday night. Right?

Violet gripped a bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of olives in the other. Like a proper houseguest, she’d brought a gift. Mainly she just didn’t want to struggle to swallow down gross beer again.

Her heels clicked against the sidewalk. Sometimes this neighborhood was a little eerie. Too quiet. She was used to the hustle and bustle of the city, but here you could hear the bark of a dog from all the way down the street or the hammer of the man three doors down who was constantly banging on something in his garage. Even the squeak of a porch swing courtesy of the old couple who lived across the street. But she didn’t mind that because she loved the sweet smell of the lilac bushes in their front yard.

Despite her best intentions to keep her life on the path of least resistance, that morning when she’d gone out to pick up the newspaper on her front porch she’d caught Noah as he was getting into his truck. Just the sight of him had destroyed any thoughts of toeing the line. She should be coming to terms with the woman she was
supposed
to be, but Noah made her want to explore every nook and cranny of the woman she
wanted
to be.

And after a conversation with Roxy, when she’d described in great detail the perfection that was her hot neighbor, his invitation became too good to pass up.

She took the five steps up to Noah’s front door. The bass of the muffled music echoed the heavy beat of her heart against her chest. She knocked once, but the force of her hand caused the door to push open.

The music got louder as the door swung wide and she heard a strong female laugh. Disappointment bloomed in her stomach.

She hadn’t spoken to him all week. Maybe he thought she wasn’t interested and invited someone else.

“Hi there.”

A petite blonde leaned against the doorframe that led to the front room. She wrapped the shiny strands of her hair behind her ear with two dainty fingers and rested her hip on the archway. She wore a pink sweater set and pearls around her neck. It was just like something Violet would have worn. B.S.—Before scarring.

She smiled, a sweet little curl to her lips that immediately set Violet at ease. Damn it. She was cute. Sweet. The porcelain skin of her neck and chest were exposed. Perfect. A sight she’d never see on herself again.

This feeling was new. This terror and inadequacy rolling over her like a tidal wave, causing her to have to remember to breathe. She was such an idiot. How could she expect a hot virtual stranger would want to ask her on a date—or for sex? Or anything. Like he was actually the type of man who’d wait around for her to decide if she wanted a kiss. This girl was probably a sure thing. Why else would she be here?

You’re here? You want to be a sure thing.

“You must be Violet.” How the hell did she know her name? Was he planning some kind of sex party? She wanted to experiment but orgy wasn’t on the list.

She nodded and walked into the house. It smelled like wood and orange-scented cleaner.

Nervousness gripped her, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to bust the jar of olives in her hand if she squeezed it any tighter.

“Violet!” A familiar voice boomed from over her shoulder.

When she turned, Noah stood in the hallway, a hammer in his hand, sweat glistening on his perfect skin. He wore only a tank top and track pants that were much too low on his hips. He hadn’t shaved. Lord have mercy. He had a good four days’ worth of stubble on his face.

There was no surprise in his voice. As if he knew she was going to show up. How could he when she’d only decided that morning?

He grinned, so casual and easy. She’d give anything to have the sense of peace that followed him around. “You’ve met my sister, Charlotte?”

Sister?

Violet whipped her head around to the young girl. She still had that same sweet smile, but this time she gave a fluttery wave of her fingers in greeting.

Sister.

The tension that had tightened in her stomach eased. This wasn’t a sex party. He hadn’t forgotten about her. In fact, he looked positively happy to see her.

“Violet, you all right?”

She nodded. Swallowing hard, she finally managed to get out some words. “Yes. Hi.” Instead of extending one hand in greeting, she thrust out both hands. “I brought vodka.”

He grinned. “More beer for me then.” He grabbed the bottles and retreated to the kitchen.

Charlotte pushed off the doorway and cocked her head in Noah’s direction. Violet followed behind and a second wave of terror gripped her when she realized that if his sister was here, he obviously had zero interest in making this more than a neighborly visit. But he’d said he wanted to kiss her. Relationships had never been her thing, always so confusing, but she didn’t remember ever feeling like this about any boy or man over the years.

Walking into the kitchen, she was taken aback by its appearance. It was a mess. Not just the kitchen but the whole house. Pieces of carpet were strewn across the floor. The kitchen cupboards didn’t even have doors. Dust and tools littered the floors and empty surfaces. But the kitchen counter had been cleared of all signs of renovation and, instead, held alcohol and various snack items.

“And who is this beauty?” A well-endowed, tattooed woman extended her hand. “I’m Harper Jones.” Her hair was deep fuchsia on top, which lightened to a soft pink the closer you got to the ends. Violet wondered if that had been done on purpose or if it was a result of fading. “Nice to meet you…” Harper left her sentence hanging, waiting for her to respond.

“This is my neighbor, Violet.” Noah beat her to it.

Violet reached out and clasped hands. Harper had a strong, firm grip. Unexpected for a woman who looked like…well, she looked like she’d just stepped out of an eighties Brit-punk video. Besides her pink hair, she had strong, traditional cheekbones and a dainty nose. She had tattoos on her arms and up the sides of her body as revealed by the black tank top with wide armholes she wore. There was a bra and a tube top underneath to cover her good parts, a set of abundant breasts. But the most beautiful thing about her was her curves. This woman was no size two.

“Oh, you brought stuff for martinis?” Harper sidled up to her, pressing her hip into Violet and wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “We are going to get along just fine.” She straightened and turned her attention to Noah. “Where’s your bar stuff?”

He shrugged. “Why would I have bar stuff?”

“Boys.” Harper sighed. “Not a problem. I’m creative.” She winked at Violet, then rummaged around in the top drawer and pulled out a spoon. She was sexy and confident. It was apparent even in the first thirty seconds of meeting her. Harper demanded your attention, but despite everything about her being intimidating, her smile was soft and genuine.

“Charlie, you having one?” Harper asked while she poured vodka into a glass.

Violet turned, forgetting Noah’s quiet sister was even in the room.

“I couldn’t possibly.” She shrugged, looking identical to her brother.

But Harper didn’t buy her excuse. “You’re not driving anywhere.” She pointed at her with the spoon. “You’re having one.”

“Why is it I’m the only one working hard?” Out of the corner of her eye, Violet noticed a man emerge from the dining room. His hair was jet black and he wore the same type of shirt as Noah, but both of his arms and chest were completely covered in tattoos, and by the way the design curved over his shoulder, she knew his back was covered, too.

“I’m only here to look pretty, not get dirty.” Harper eyed the man from across the room. Despite her intense stare, he simply smiled, admiring her from his perch against the dining room table.

“This is my friend, Luke.” He was attractive. Rough. Unlike any man she’d ever had the privilege of knowing. He smiled and revealed perfect white teeth. If all of Noah’s friends looked like this, she was going to have to buy a defibrillator. But Luke was edgier, more intimidating than Noah. He must be the tattoo artist that had inked the beautiful markings on his arms.

Luke walked over and extended his hand. “Great to meet the woman this guy hasn’t been able to stop—”

“So we’re doing some renovations,” Noah yelled over Luke.

Her stomach fluttered. She’d give anything to hear the end of that sentence. Luke cleared his throat then stepped back.

“So you invited me over to work?” Violet turned her attention to Noah.

When he’d invited her over, she’d gotten the impression it was to have sex. But now, with the appearance of three additional people, sex was definitely not happening.

“Something like that.” God, his smile was sexy. And those dimples…Every time he flashed them, her stomach danced in excitement and something gripped the insides of her…well, the parts down there.

There was only one other time when she’d felt like this. It was in high school and Brad Fellows had kissed her on the lips at the semiformal in the tenth grade. She remembered it vividly. Partly because it was her first kiss and partly because she’d never felt that flutter again. Brad had been forbidden. His father was on the board of a competing construction firm. It wasn’t until years later that she’d realized Brad was the first and only man she’d ever pursued who didn’t have her parents’ approval, which was probably why it had been so thrilling.

Harper had somehow managed to fashion a shaker, and she poured the vodka over ice, added a splash of the juice from the jar of olives, and shook. She divided the concoction across three tumblers she’d lined up on the counter.

Violet’s mouth watered. There was nothing better than an extra-dry martini with olives. But she feared no matter how many martinis she had, she might never truly feel comfortable in this room full of strangers. She clutched at her scarf, ensuring it was in place.

“Can I leave you to care for Violet while I get back to work?” Noah leaned over Harper’s shoulder.

“Of course.” Her voice was sweet, but there was something sinister in her tone. “I’m going to get her liquored up and find out all her secrets.” Harper turned and winked.

Violet’s stomach seized. She was only having one martini tonight. Harper, and especially Noah, didn’t need to know her secrets. She’d agreed to go on that date on the condition they didn’t talk about their life outside of the here and now. She’d assumed he knew that carried over to tonight.

Noah walked over, squeezing her forearm in affection. “I’ll be in the dining room.” He leaned closer. “Have fun.” Resting his forehead against hers in a surprisingly intimate move, he whispered, “Relax.”

She let out a harsh breath and nodded.

She wasn’t socially inept and she wasn’t a total head case, but she was definitely out of her element. Since the accident, every day felt like she was out of her element. With a simple touch and a few words, Noah had made her feel safe, free to be herself. Whoever that might be. In the five years she’d been with Steven, she’d never been given that.

With a nod, she watched him walk away, admiring his perfect backside and acknowledging the many ways he tangled up her insides.

Harper herded Charlotte and Violet into what was supposed to be the family room, but there was no furniture. Instead, two milk crates sat in the middle with a piece of plywood across the top, sufficing as a coffee table. Various blankets had been strategically placed to cover up the dirty floor, which served as a seating area.

How the hell did he live like this? Wouldn’t the logical thing be to move in after renovations? But maybe not when you were the one doing the renovations.