Sweet Home Alaska (6 page)

Tingles crept up his spine. While his belief in the paranormal bordered on nonexistent, he couldn’t describe the sensation in his body. Instantly, he thought of Lauren, alone in room 325. He headed toward the door. A blast of cold air skimmed across his skin, and he made a mental note to talk to the head foreman tomorrow. He didn’t want anything to disrupt his plans for the re-opening. If the heat and air conditioning system was out of whack, he had to know if it was only in this room, the floor, or in the entire building.

He opened room 325 to see Lauren eating a sandwich in one hand and holding her glass of wine in the other. Her eyes lit up when she looked at him. “I’ve been waiting for you Obi-Wan,” she said. “We meet again at last.”

He couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across his face. “How much wine have you had?”

“What caused the crash, Crash?”

“Aren’t you the funny one,” he said. He crouched beside her, noting his plate was full of food again. “How much wine have you had to drink?”

“Oh, enough to make me a little giddy. You’re the one who kept refilling my glass.” She nodded and waved her finger in a chiding motion. “But really, what made the noise?”

“Well, it wasn’t the Death Star, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He sat next to her, rather than on the other side of the blanket.

“Now look who’s being funny?” She bumped her shoulder into his. He wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not.

He took two swallows of wine, hoping to erase his errant thoughts of paranormal beings. “Someone from the construction crew left a window open. The wind blew in and knocked over a ladder.”

“It sure sounded loud.” She arched her brow. Some hair from her bun had fallen loose and she twirled a strand of it around her finger. “Maybe this place really is haunted.”

Or maybe she set out to haunt him. He had no doubt she’d be in his dreams tonight.  “Yeah, maybe we should rethink the theme of this party,” he said.

“Nah. I think the ‘come as your favorite comic book character’ theme will be great. But who knows? Maybe Casper lives here.” She took another sip of wine. “Casper started as a comic book character, didn’t he?”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right.” Maybe he shouldn’t have refilled her glass.

“What were we talking about before you left to investigate?” She stretched out her legs on the quilt and kicked off her shoes. “Oh yeah, the
Star Wars
movies. I’m going to take a wild guess and bet you own the entire set on Blu-Ray.”

Trey stared at the curve of her calf, then at her bright pink toenail polish, before making eye contact with her. Her bare feet made their meeting feel too casual. Was there something more going on here? He had to be misreading the signals. “Ah yeah, you’d be right.”

“Can we watch them?” she asked.

“Um, yeah, sure.” He wanted nothing to do with movies right now. He’d rather move his hands up her ankles, then her calves, then under her skirt, but this was business. A woman could take off her shoes, but it didn’t mean they were going to jump into bed. His fingers twitched. Instead of reaching where he wanted, he pulled his glasses from his front pocket. “Let’s look at the menu choices. Everything you’ve given me to eat has been fantastic.”

“But I just refilled your plate. You need to try some more.” Rain pelted against the windows in a rhythmic beat. Milliseconds ticked by before Lauren said, “Or, not.”

Was she interested in more than a business relationship between them? He’d been working so many months straight he’d given dating little thought. Except, now that Lauren was stretched out of the floor next to him, he suddenly could think of little else.

“Love the glasses,” she said and licked her bottom lip.

He stared at her, wanting her to say more about things she loved. About him.

“And your blue eyes, too,” she said dreamily. Then, abruptly, “Sorry, I’ve had too much wine. I shouldn’t have said that. It just slipped out. But seriously, you are so hot.” She held her fingers to her lips, as though silencing herself.

“It’s okay.” His body tensed. He wanted to know where things stood between them, and whether he was completely off-base. The only way to know for sure was to ask. He straightened his glasses and sat up. “Are we keeping our relationship strictly professional, or are we—I don’t want to misread anything. I must be getting the signals wrong.”

She pulled her knees up under her, smoothed out her skirt, and scooted closer to him. “No, you aren’t.” She shook her head and bit down on that plump bottom lip. “You aren’t getting the signals wrong.”

The rain hit the windows with more force. The sound of the wind cracked. He wanted to slide open the deck’s glass doors and step outside to cool off, clear his mind. “So you’re saying you want more than a business arrangement between us?”

She slowly nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

He waited for a couple quiet moments before he couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her to him and kissed her.

Every nerve ending in his body seemed to catch on fire. His fingers ached to touch more of her. She opened her mouth and kissed him with a ferocity he wasn’t prepared for. Then again, he wasn’t prepared for any of this. Lauren wouldn’t stay in town; no matter what she said, he didn’t believe she’d stay. So what were they doing?

A faint moan erupted from her throat. He kissed along her neck and collarbone. Heat erupted from her silky skin.

She arched her back and he slipped his hand beneath her and pulled her even closer. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable, but he didn’t care. Her hands stroked his temples and she hungrily kissed him back.

He tried to think about the impossibility of this, but he’d completely lost all focus. He couldn’t fight Lauren or his own desire for her. He whispered in her ear, “I want you, Lauren, I want you in the worst way.”

She wrapped both arms around his neck and hiked her leg over his. She sat on his lap, facing him. Her skirt inched up past her knees, past mid-thigh. “Good, then we’re in agreement, because I want you, too. Did you say some of these rooms are furnished?”

Trey sucked in a breath. He devoured the exquisite sight of her and traced his hands up and down her thighs. “Yes. The first and second floors are done.”

“I don’t know if I can wait. It’s a long way to the other floors, and then you’d have to find a key, right?” She unbuttoned the first button on his shirt, then the next.

She was breathing in shallow pants. Her chest rose and fell.

He ran his hands up her thighs and cupped her bottom. “Yeah, right.”

“Do we have time for that?” She rose up on her knees, effectively pressing her breasts against his chest. God, she was
perfect
. His body was begging for her.

But somewhere in the far away corners of his brain he started to panic. He started to remember exactly who he had in his arms. “Maybe we should slow down and talk about this?”

She arched her back and threaded her fingers through his hair before she stared into his eyes. “You’re right. We should slow down.”

“I didn’t say we had to slow down—just maybe. Or we can go any speed you want.” He was still grappling with the fact that
this
was happening at all. He needed to shut up and let things happen.

Lauren climbed off his lap.

He immediately missed the heat of her body bonded with his.

“I suppose we need to talk about this, shouldn’t we? We were talking about menu options and then, and then. . . we weren’t.” She fiddled with her hair, trying to re-pin the strands that had fallen loose.

“We were talking about menus, but I’d be happy to feast on you instead.” He spoke before he realized how stupid that must sound.

Lauren laughed and he didn’t feel quite so dumb anymore. “So you like my food then? That’s great,” she said. “But do you like me?”

“You’re perfect,” he blurted. “I more than like you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Or something like that. I’m far from perfect. . . but I like you, too, Trey.” She bit down on her lip again. “I always have.”

Her body language, her hair, her voice. . . everything about her called to him and that’s why he needed to keep questioning this. He didn’t believe it was real. He couldn’t remember the last time any woman looked more enticing. Heck, there was no last time—this had never happened to him before. “You’ve had about three, maybe four, glasses of wine. How about I take you home and we can talk about this some more? Where we want things to go between us, or if there even is an us? How does that sound?”

She got up on her knees and inched closer to him. “If you want to take me home, then I’m all for it.” Her eyes brightened. “In fact, then you can try some of my salsa, but as far as how things go between us. . .” She absently pointed a finger in the air. “Do I get a vote?”

“Yes, you get to vote.” How much had she had to drink?

“My vote is—make no mistake about it—I want you in my bed.”

Trey had been so reluctant to hire Lauren, but never in his craziest dreams had he played this scene out to end like this. He mentally picked his jaw up off the floor. Clearly, she was a lightweight in the liquor department. He’d drive her home and make sure she was completely sober before they took this any farther. Then, if she still wanted him in her bed, there was no doubt about his vote. He was all for democracy.

Chapter Eight

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lauren said over her shoulder. She walked up the stairs to her apartment above the bakery.

“I don’t think you do,” he said from behind her.

“You think I’ve had too much to drink.” She stopped on the landing and at her door.

“No, actually I was thinking what gorgeous legs you have.” The guy sounded completely serious.

“You are. . . so hot, you know that?” She glanced at Trey before taking her keys out of her purse.

“So you’ve said.” He stepped behind her on the top landing, snaked his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. “And with your hair up like this, I can’t resist kissing you.”

She pushed open the door and threw her purse on the living room sofa. Then she quickly put herself back in his embrace and kissed him, threading her fingers through his short hair. He didn’t move his hands anywhere other than her waist, but continued the kiss she had started.

His thumb brushed over her jawline, and she gasped at the endearing, yet sensual, sensation. Every inch of her skin was ready for his touch. When he trailed his fingers and thumbs down her neck, she trembled in his arms, and a hot aching need erupted low in her belly. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted them to be skin to skin, without any clothing in the way.

Trey broke their kiss and took a step back. She instantly missed clinging to his body as though he was her life preserver in the stormy sea of her emotions. She wanted this to be purely sexual, to be a fling, but she knew her feelings for him were more than physical. She didn’t want to screw this up. She’d let her grandma down; she couldn’t let Trey down, too.

“I thought we were going to talk?” His voice sounded husky.

“You already know my vote.” She waited for some sign from him, some reason to throw her body at him the way she wanted to. “Unless we’re really here to taste my salsa.”

“I want to taste a whole lot more than your salsa,” he said with a perfectly straight face.

She busted up in a fit of laughter. “Only you, Trey Briggs, can say that with a serious face.” She bridged the distance between them and tugged his glasses from his shirt’s front pocket. “I want you to put your sexy glasses on and say that again. In fact, I want you to be wearing nothing but these glasses when you say it.”

A small grin creased his face. “I want us to be on the same page, Lauren. And I want to make sure it isn’t the alcohol speaking.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against him. “My wine wore off a while ago. I want you, Trey. I want this. Do you?”

As if he had all the time in the world to answer her very important question, his hands descended from her waist, over the curve of her bottom, leaving a trail of quivering flesh in its wake. When he reached the bottom curve of her butt cheeks, she thought she might die from anticipation. He crushed her against his erection. “Do you feel any doubt about what I want?”

She gasped for breath. “No, but I guess I should ask what you want from me beyond the bedroom. I mean. . .” For the first time, real doubt crept into her thoughts. “You’re my client, but you’re also my temporary boss. I don’t want people to know we are together beyond a business arrangement. They’ll think I got the job because I’m sleeping with you.”

“So we’re keeping this secret?” His voice sounded authoritative, diplomatic and yet vulnerable at the same time.

“Yes, I think that would be best. At least until after the AlaskaCon party. Then we can re-assess things. See where things stand. Is that okay with you?” Her heart pounded as seconds ticked by, waiting for his answer.

His fingers slipped lower and tightened on the hem of her skirt, and he rested his head against her forehead. His breathing was heavy. His blue eyes seemed to darken. “Yes, I agree. We are a secret until after the party, then we’ll decide where things go. But I have a feeling I’m going to need a lot of private meetings. . . you know, to sample the menu items.”

Relief flooded every inch of her body. She had been so tense waiting for his answer, wondering if he would agree to keep their liaison only between them. The heat between their bodies intensified. The air in her apartment sizzled with anticipation.

In one quick motion, he pulled her skirt up to her waist and cupped his hands under her bottom, exploring her with his long fingers. “I’ve been dying to do that all night.”

Her entire body shivered with need. Her core pulsed to life. She reached for the buttons of his shirt. “I was serious about the glasses, you know. Everything off, except for them.”

“It’s a deal, as long as you take everything off except those shoes of yours.” He lifted her off her feet and into his arms. “Now, where’s your bedroom? You did demand to have me in your bed, and I don’t want to disappoint.”