She couldn’t help but smile back at him from across her small kitchen.
“You up for a little adventure?” he asked. “I’d love to show you something.”
There were lots of things she’d like him to show her. Maybe her pot of gold was closer than expected. “Sure. You’re the boss, Mr. Anderson. Set the agenda.”
…
Will loved the feel of Claire on the bike behind him with her arms wrapped around his torso. At first, she had tried to maintain some distance, but before long, she was resting fully against him, and it felt so right.
He turned into his subdivision and his heart rate kicked up a notch. He wished it weren’t nighttime so that she could get a better look around, but the streetlights created pools of light that were big enough to give her the gist of it. His need for her to like his home bordered on irrational. He made a right at the second stop sign and took a deep breath. She was leaving in a little over a week, so in truth, her liking it was neither here nor there. Maybe he just wanted affirmation that the house he had restored and loved had value. Or maybe he wanted the girl he was falling for to value it, too. And with that thought, Will knew he was completely and totally fucked. He had it bad for this woman. Fate had thrown him a bone he couldn’t chew and it pissed him off.
Claire’s arms tightened around his body and she let out an excited squeal when they passed a large bush in front of the house two doors down from his. “Whoa! Did you see that bunny? There was a bunny! Like the hoppy, cute, white-tailed kind.”
“There are lots of them.” He turned into his driveway and parked the bike under the overhang in front of the garage. “Off you go.”
His body felt cool where her arms and thighs had been. He got off and flipped down the kickstand as she walked out to the middle of the yard to check out his house. He held his breath, waiting for her verdict. The last time he’d brought a woman here, it hadn’t gone well. Beth was less than impressed.
“Wow. This is perfect. It’s your family’s?”
He almost laughed. The Anderson Foundation would never invest in a small, restored, historic home. Islands, high rises, Riviera condos? Yes. Long Island bungalow? No. “It’s all mine.”
Claire made no attempt to hide her enthusiasm over the house and it made him want to kiss her right there under the porch lights in view of the neighbors. But he didn’t. He planned to take it slow this time.
“I love this, Will. No wonder you don’t like coming into the office.”
“Want to see the inside?”
She bounced on her toes and nodded. Claire was excited, and it made him feel alive for the first time in years.
She ran her fingers over everything she passed as if committing it to memory—counters, furniture, cabinets—as he gave her a tour of the house including the kitchen, dining area, living room, office, guest room, and his bedroom. Only, she didn’t run her fingers over anything in his bedroom. She clasped her hands in front of her as if resisting the urge, but her eyes kept straying to his big king-size bed. So did his. Time to change the unspoken subject screaming at them through libido-powered speakers.
“There are swans in the pond out back,” he said.
“Swans?” she squealed.
That broke the bedroom spell, he thought with a smile, pleased by her enthusiasm. “My lot backs up to a big neighborhood pond, and a family of swans has set up camp in my yard. A grown pair and three cygnets.”
“Can I see?” She charged out of the bedroom and headed straight for the back porch door.
He caught up with her before she opened it. “Not at night. It upsets them, but you can see them sometime in the daytime.”
She turned to face him and stood very still. “Maybe I can see them in the morning…”
There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to have her spend the night. Nothing. The problem was that he had decided to take it slow this time. “I didn’t bring you here to have sex. I’m interested in more than that. I want us to be friends. To get to know each other better. We’ve been given a do-over. I want to play it differently this time.”
“You can’t be serious,” she said, arms crossed over her ribs.
Part of him wanted to deny it. To carry her straight to his bed, rip off her clothes, warm her up until she screamed, then bury himself inside her until the world went away. But he couldn’t. She needed time. “I’m dead serious. If you feel the same tomorrow, we’ll renegotiate.”
“Well, negotiations are my forte, Mr. Anderson. You’ve met your match. Come tomorrow, I’ll show no mercy.”
He grinned. “I’m counting on it, Miss Maddox. I’ll take you home now.” He pulled the motorcycle key out and gestured for her to lead the way, but she didn’t budge.