Tamara Larson - Open House

Jack glared at Serena and held out his large hand to her companion as she reached the top of the stairs. "Hi, Lacey," he said, gruffly, shaking her hand. "I'm Jack Kingston. Serena didn't mention she was bringing you out. It probably doesn't look that impressive without the floors installed." He gestured toward a large pile of cherry-stained planks to his left, just inside the door. "If you come back next week, it should be completely done."

Reluctantly, Jack let go of her hand, but not before noting that the chemistry between them was just as potent as he remembered. Just the gentle brush of her fingers against his made him feel a bit dizzy as the blood drained from his head and settled in his groin. Today she was wearing some kind of light and fruity scent that was adding to the dizzying effect.

"Hi Jack. I'm already impressed, so don't worry about the floors. Where's the rest of your crew?" Lacey asked, following Serena into the front hall where Jack had been sanding the oversized door earlier.

"Crew? Sorry. No crew. Just me." He smiled, pleased with this opportunity to impress her.

"You mean you're doing this all by yourself?" Lacey asked incredulously. Why did this knowledge make her knees weak with arousal? There was just something so freaking sexy about a man who was capable of building something from nothing. Not to mention, good with his hands. As if the practically transparent T-shirt he was wearing wasn't stimulating enough. She could actually see the dark outline of his chest hair through the material. Oscar the Grouch had never looked so provocative.

"Pretty much. I mean, I didn't do the plumbing or electrical work, or pour the concrete for the foundation. But the actual construction and dry-walling and painting and stuff, that was me. Now I'm going to lay the floors."

Hmmm… that sounded so dirty when he said it, Lacey thought. "Are you serious? How do you know how to do all that? I mean, I know you and your brothers own a construction company, but I kind of thought you contracted people to do the work, and then you just sort of stood around, supervising the project."

Jack laughed. "We do that too. But that's not all we do. My dad started this company 35 years ago, and my brothers and I have all been raised on construction sites. At some point, all four of us have done our time doing just about every task connected with building a house. My mom has a picture of me hanging in her kitchen. I'm 11 years old and I just dry-walled my first house. I'm covered in dust, but grinning ear to ear. I loved getting my hands dirty, even then." He held out his saw-dust covered hands for her inspection.

All she noticed was that her mom was right about the size of his hands. "Sounds like you enjoyed it, even if your dad was using you guys for cheap labour," Lacey said with a grin, charmed by the idea of him as a junior handyman, following his dad around, soaking up knowledge and learning his destiny at such a young age.

"We only worked weekends and summers. It wasn't like we were home-schooled slaves or anything. And I enjoyed it. Still do. He just wanted us to learn the business. His philosophy was that we couldn't know if someone else was screwing up unless we'd done it ourselves, so we'd be better at supervising a build if we actually weren't talking out of our asses. He didn't put it that way, but that was what he meant."

"He sounds like a smart man."

"He was. He died a few years ago. Heart Attack."

"I'm sorry. You must miss him."

Serena interrupted. "Jay, are you going to show us your masterpiece or what? Uncle Jack would have told you to quit wasting time and show the buyer what she came to see."

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. I was just giving Lacey some background, and showing off a little. No harm in that, right?"

"Like your ego needs anymore stroking. I don't think so. Let's move this along. I have to get back to town in an hour, so that gives you twenty minutes to show us the highlights, okay?"

"Man, you are impatient. But twenty minutes is plenty of time. The place isn't very big."

They were done with the tour within ten minutes. There really wasn't much to it at all. The cottage consisted of a huge open concept living area, a large bedroom with walk-in closet, and a ridiculously oversized bathroom with a glass-tiled shower big enough for an entire basketball team to share comfortably. Basically, it was over-the-top luxury done on a very small scale. And it was Lacey's dream place, but not out in the middle of the country.

"Do you live here, Jack?" Lacey asked as they walked back into the living area. She looked around at the small signs of life, like the take-out containers on the granite countertop, and the towels beside the sink.

"No, but I will when it's done." He omitted the fact that he currently didn't really "live" anywhere, though officially his address was the huge mausoleum they'd passed on the way to the cottage. "After the floors, I just have the kitchen island to install and then I have to bribe Serena here to pick out some furniture for me, and I'm all set. Instant bachelor pad in the woods."

"You'd like that wouldn't you, you old hermit," Serena said, punching him in the shoulder. "Living in the woods with no one bugging you. Maybe you should just buy a couple of ugly recliners and embrace your man-cave lifestyle."

"Well, I am hoping to have a few very special guests," Jack said, smiling warmly at Lacey. She looked away, but not before he saw the delighted little smile turn up the corners of her gorgeous mouth. "So something more inviting than a giant TV, a Wii game console and a Lazy Boy would probably be more appropriate."

"He's talking about his brothers' places," Serena said in a stage whisper to Lacey. "Each and every one of them is single and living the ultimate bachelor dream. Last time I was at Jason's, the youngest, there wasn't even toilet paper in the bathroom, just a stack of coffee filters sitting on the bathroom counter. Disgusting."

Lacey laughed merrily and Jack was struck again by what a joyful person she was. He felt better when she was around than he had in years. Maybe ever. Even talking about his dad's death hadn't caused him to spiral into a black mood as was typical for him when the subject came up. Obviously, she had a positive effect on him. If he could just figure out a way to spend time with her without getting too emotionally attached, life would be so much better.

He knew he wasn't capable of anything serious. He couldn't even pretend he was ready for more than a physical connection with another woman after Deborah. It would probably be years before he could put the past behind him enough to really be willing to share his life. Maybe not even then. Just the thought of a traditional courtship made him panic. How could he go on dinner dates, make polite conversation and plans with someone new after what had happened? He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. It felt like a betrayal.

But sex he could definitely handle. Idly, he wondered if Lacey would be open to a casual relationship. Would he blow it if he suggested such a thing? Or maybe she was looking for something without strings too? Looking at her, he doubted very much that she was that open-minded.

He wasn't very good at guessing women's age, but he estimated her to be in her late twenties or very early thirties. But somehow her innocence seemed somewhat intact to him. Not virginal exactly, but definitely not experienced. Bold looks aside, she seemed unnerved by his attention, almost skittish. Like she wasn't used to men wanting her. Or she didn't believe that anyone could be interested in her. He couldn't quite fathom how she had escaped male notice. She was exotically beautiful, quick-witted, sweet, and beyond sexy. Everything a man like him lusted after, and yet she didn't seem to trust that his desire for her could be sincere. Either she had been living in a convent, or the only men she came in contact with had to be gay. That was the only way she could remain so oblivious to the effect she had on his gender, and especially him.