Tamara Larson - Open House

From that day forward, she dressed like an absolute prude. Even on days when the temperature was sweltering she purposely dressed as frumpy as possible. He appreciated the effort, but it really didn't do any good. He'd suspected that the body under the scrubs and sweats was jaw-dropping and now that his suspicions were confirmed, getting her naked was all he could think about.

Despite the discomfort of unsatisfied sexual tension screaming between them, he still anticipated her visits like a kid on Christmas morning. When Lacey arrived he felt alive. Annoyed and horny as hell, but alive. And the rest of the time was just dead space until her next visit. This wasn't healthy. He knew that. Especially for someone who wasn't supposed to be interested in a relationship.

Over the past few weeks it had become pretty evident to him that despite his best intentions he was already involved with Lacey. They had an odd, unconsummated relationship which had been on hold for five months, but still, it was definitely a relationship. And it wasn't nearly as scary as he'd thought. In fact, except for the no sex part, it felt very natural. And his guilt and grief over his wife and son's death had finally receded to a manageable level.

He'd stopped constantly reliving that day. His mind no longer circled all the possible ways he could have prevented the accident. For so long, his objective had been to focus on the immediate task at hand to distract himself from thoughts of the past. It took all his effort to get through each day without succumbing to despair, and most days he failed miserably at this. But now he could contemplate the future and actually felt like there might be something to look forward to in life. Because of her. She simply made him happy. Well, at least she did before the friction made them so crazy, and they started arguing over stupid things.

As an outlet for their passion the sniping wasn't very satisfying, but it did give him a chance to really get to know Lacey. He felt he'd seen her at her very worst, and her worst was still pretty damn cute. And funny. She made him laugh even when he wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. This was a woman he could fight with and make up with for the rest of his life. He only hoped her feelings hadn't changed. He had, after all, banned her from her own house. Not because he didn't want to see her, but because he really couldn't handle being around her anymore without some kind of relief from the tension. And they were so close to being done. If he could just live through this walk-through, then they could take things to the next level. He only hoped the next level included some hugely anticipated sex, and hopefully a whole lot more. Maybe even love?

A familiar little red car pulled up in front of the cottage, and Jack rose from his step to greet his woman. He watched Lacey get out of the car, and throw her sunglasses on the dashboard. She was wearing a dress and her long, dark hair wasn't in a ponytail or a bun for a change. He was amazed to see that it fell halfway down her back in a glossy, wavy cloud. His mouth went dry as she stepped around the car and he saw those boots. He rarely noticed women's footwear, but Lacey in fuck-me heels was a sight to behold. He grinned inwardly as she nearly stumbled coming up the cobblestone walk. Obviously, she wasn't as comfortable as she looked in those lethally sexy boots.

"Hi Jack," she said breathlessly, as she climbed up the stairs to join him on the porch. Any intention she had to be calm and cool flew out the window the second she saw him waiting for her. He was even more handsome than she remembered. And he was wearing a tie, white dress shirt and what looked like wool slacks. No denim or plaid or Oscar the Grouch T-shirt. He was dressed up. It even looked like he'd had his hair cut. He looked positively polished.

What did this mean exactly? Was he trying to look his best for her, or was his formal attire part of keeping a professional distance between them? If that was his intention, it wasn't working. She wanted to rip that tie off with her teeth and tie him to the closest headboard with it. She wasn't feeling very professional at all. In fact, if he didn't outright reject her, she had a feeling her new non-boring wild side might make an appearance. Seeing him again just made her realize how much she had missed him and how stupid she had been to waste so much time.

Jack took her hand as she reached him and brought her knuckles up to his lips. He noticed that even her short nails were painted a dark, sexy red. "You look beautiful," he said. "No scrubs today?"

"Not today. It felt like a special occasion. You look very nice too. I think you combed your hair." She reached up and ran her other hand through his silky strands. "I like it a little messy though." She shook it out a little, and smiled into his eyes as his hair settled back into its usual casual disarray. "There, that's better. Now you look like Jack."

"C'mon," he said, his voice gruff. "Let's check out your new digs. You ready?"

"Yup, I really can't wait to see what you've done here. But with all the anticipation, I'm a little worried that it'll be anti-climactic. I mean, how can it possibly live up to all build-up?"

"You're still talking about the cottage, right?"

She laughed and pulled on his arm to urge him through the front door. Walking over the threshold, she stopped in her tracks. It was incredible. They were in a large room that was a combination kitchen/dining/living room open concept design with vaulted ceilings. Wide-plank, glossy, hardwood covered the floors and the walls were painted the same golden beige Lacey's mother had admired in the first row-house they'd seen months ago. Best of all, the kitchen was a stylish oasis with stainless steel appliances and glass fronted, white cupboards.

"Oh Jack," Lacey squealed. "You were able to put in an island. I can't believe it." Lacey walked over and ran her hands over the huge slab of black granite. The gesture was an unconscious imitation of her reaction to this feature the first time Jack had seen her. "You said it was too expensive."

Jack ducked his head, pleased at her reaction, but embarrassed at how emotional he felt seeing her delight in such a small thing. It almost felt worth all the sacrifice to see her like this. Five months of blue balls seemed insignificant in comparison to her joy. "Yeah, well, the granite was left over from another job, so I was able to get a great deal on it. Do you like it?" He asked, quietly. It was obvious she did, but he really needed to hear her say it.

"Oh Jack, I love it. Thank you so much. And what's this?" She spied a clipboard on the far end of the countertop. Clipped to it were some official looking documents, a pen, and a single yellow rose. She picked up the rose and gave it a sniff, sighing at its sweet scent. Glancing at the papers beneath it, she saw a blood test from Jack's doctor detailing a clean bill of health, and beneath that, a checklist.

Jack didn't comment on the blood test. She could draw her own conclusions from why he left that for her. "That is an incredibly boring checklist, but we need to go through it before this place becomes officially yours."

"And the rose is always part of this builder's ritual?"

"Yup, part of the contract, I'm afraid. Supermodel or lumberjack, all my client's get one."

"Right. And the blood test?"

"Definitely not part of the house building process, but I thought it would be a good idea if we decided to move onto the non-torturous portion of our relationship. Unless you've met someone else?" He tensed waiting for her response. If she had moved on he was going to howl in frustration. Punching a fist-sized hole through the drywall was also a definite possibility.

"No, Jack. I haven't met anyone, and I had a similar test last week too. Coincidence, wouldn't you say?"