Home > The Playboy (Chandler Brothers #2)(20)

The Playboy (Chandler Brothers #2)(20)
Author: Carly Phillips

She’d moved around enough to have sublet and rented many apartments and repainted many a wall.

She ran to the back bedroom, changed into old workout clothes, then surveyed the damage in the entry. She’d already bought gallons of fresh white paint and decided to begin there, where a potential buyer would get their first impression. Then she could work her way through to the rest of the house, so she’d see improvement each time she entered. In the meantime, she also hoped to pass time so she wouldn’t keep looking at her watch, waiting for her sister or her wayward parents to call.

After turning on the radio and ruthlessly squelching another urge to contact Rick for his shoulder or any other body parts that tempted her, she got to work.

Rick thought his shift would never end. By the time he made his way to Kendall’s house on Edgemont Street, dusk had fallen. She wasn’t expecting him but he had an invitation to issue. One he hoped she wouldn’t refuse, partly because he wanted to help ease her transition to Yorkshire Falls but mostly because he’d missed her and wanted to spend time with her again. Considering she wouldn’t be staying in town long, Rick knew his first rationale was lame and pathetic but he didn’t give a damn. He’d caused her hurt and he’d damn well fix things before she moved on.

He knocked on the door and when she didn’t answer, he let himself inside. Apparently she wasn’t that much of a newcomer if she’d left her door open. No one in Yorkshire Falls worried much about locks, much to Rick’s and the rest of the force’s chagrin.

Once inside, music reached his ears. He glanced around to see Kendall, singing while she painted a wall with broad strokes of a roller. Her effort reached only as far as her arm length, leaving a ragged horizontal difference between the new bottom finish and the old paint on top. Though what she’d done looked great, the initial impression was unprofessional at best.

Rick shook his head and laughed. “You could give poor Eldin a run for his money.”

“Rick!” Her voice held a combination of warmth and pleasure as she scrambled to put down the equipment so she could greet him. “I probably should have gone out and bought a ladder, huh?” A sheepish grin spread across her face. “I was just so anxious to get started and keep busy, I didn’t want to wait.”

“Why didn’t you call and ask me to pick up a ladder?”

“Didn’t think of it.”

He stepped forward, moving toward her, propelled by a force stronger than his mind or his will. “I suppose you expect me to fix what’s left?”

She bit down on her lower lip and treated him to an adorable grin. “We do have a deal.”

“Yeah we do.” That damn deal. The one that named them lovers in public but gave Rick no rights over her body in private. Damned if he didn’t want to change that.

The thought had been rushing through his mind the entire day. This woman he barely knew, one he for some reason wanted to protect emotionally and possess physically, had gotten to him. More than any woman had in a long while. He stepped forward and trapped her close to him. She couldn’t step back or she’d hit the wet wall, so she inched closer to him instead.

He inhaled and was enveloped by her luscious scent. He took in her lithe body, covered only by a spandex exercise outfit. No doubt the oppressive heat explained her choice in clothing. The air-conditioning unit she’d bought only cooled off the bedroom in which she slept. The rest of the old house was on its own, Kendall refusing to spend another penny on a place she’d be leaving soon anyway.

Her departure was something he refused to contemplate. He wasn’t ready to say good-bye. Not when he hadn’t yet begun to say hello.

He intended to start now.

Her wide-eyed gaze met his and she waited for his next move. He braced his hands above her head and with the cold, wet sensation on his palms, he realized his mistake immediately.

“Wall’s wet.” She laughed.

“Gee, thanks for reminding me.” He had paint on both hands.

“Just being neighborly.”

“Surely you can think of a better term than neighborly—for your lover.”

“In name only.” She spoke the facts, but her eyes questioned.

Asked the same thing he’d been wondering. Could they allow themselves more?

She sucked in a shaky breath.

The deep inhale had the effect of squaring her shoulders and pushing out her chest, her round br**sts tempting him through the tight spandex.

“We could change that,” he offered.

She tipped her head to one side. Her freshly blond, newly cut hair brushed her shoulders, surrounding her face in a sexy shag. Damn, but he had a thing for blondes. For this blonde.

“We could.” Her words came out an exhale.

He tilted his head and captured her lips with his. Earlier today he’d been performing for an audience. This kiss was theirs alone. Despite the blood rushing through his veins, he took his time, nibbling on her lower lip and savoring the sounds of delight she uttered in response. And when he cupped her breast in his palm, the gesture felt natural and right, causing an ache in his groin and a pulsing, pounding rhythm inside his head.

He wasn’t content with the simple touch when his body demanded so much more but before he could take what he wanted, Rick was interrupted by the distinctive ring of a cell phone. Out of habit, he reached for the phone clipped on his belt buckle.

With obvious regret she stepped away. “It’s mine,” she said in a husky voice.

But she was his, Rick thought, as his handprint, stark white against the black fitted material of her top, pointed out. And he planned to pick up where they left off as soon as this unwanted interruption was over.

“Hello?” She grabbed the phone and spoke as if she were expecting an urgent call.

He didn’t eavesdrop but he couldn’t miss her raised voice either and by the time she’d hung up, Rick realized the moment between them had vanished. Sexual tension had been replaced by plain aggravation as an agitated Kendall paced back and forth on the other side of the room, muttering to herself.

“What’s wrong?”

“Family problems.” She crossed the floor and came up beside him. Her brows furrowed, puckering her forehead.

He wanted to smooth her skin and remove her worries. Her distress drew him toward her, even as his head warned him to mind his own business. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked anyway.

She shook her head. “Thanks but nothing you need to concern yourself with.” She spoke as if they hadn’t just been locked in a heated embrace, as if he couldn’t possibly care about more than her body.

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