3
Looking around, memories flow over me, both good and bad. Some of my best days were spent here in the summer, playing ball on the asphalt and tag in the rain. Bad memories too, like the day my father walked away and decided that he wasn’t coming back.
This neighborhood is a minefield of bittersweet memories. I’ve honestly been avoiding it for a long time until I saw the car and decided to investigate. But now that I’m here…it’s not all bad. Maybe Klara being here is a sign that it’s an okay time to face some of the things that happened here and relive some of the best.
As I walk down the sidewalk, back toward my own neighborhood, I find myself hoping that Klara is going to spend a lot more time here after all.
Klara
Thankfully the bedrooms are in halfway decent shape and I brought my own sheets and comforter. The creaking of the house isn’t remotely comforting, especially with the wind coming in off the open plain of desert nearby.
This neighborhood is on the very edge of Affliction Creek, and because of that, it’s one of the first things that people pass on their way into the town. Especially if you’re coming from the bigger cities down south. I’m not exactly surprised that the town is eager to clean it up in order to make a good impression.
But Reynard’s words from yesterday echo in my mind.
They gave you an impossible task, and that’s really unfair to you.
Is it an impossible task? All the materials for the renovations are already purchased, and what little budget there is could be used for hiring workers to come and help me. But first I actually need to see the depth of the problem. In the morning, I’ll go through each house and make notes about what needs to be fixed and what I need to do in the interiors and exteriors.
It will take time, but one of the things I’ve learned in the years of building my design career is that taking the time to organize and plan ahead saves you much more time in the end.
I tossed and turned most of the night, unfamiliar sounds jerking me from sleep along with dreams of heat and lips that had me sweating. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to fade back into sleep, I told myself that the man in my dreams wasn’t Reynard. It was just a faceless, attractive man, and I’ve been in a dry spell for far too long.
But now in the light of day, I know better.
I’ve never been fully able to let go of the idea of Rey, and now that he’s crashed back into my life, I’m not able to ignore it. My body wants him. The way he stepped into my space and stared at me like I was the only thing in the world worth having was something that I’ve always wanted.
No wonder I’m having dreams of his lips on my skin, and his mouth settling between my legs.
Since I’m planning on being here for a while, I brought my vibrator with me. With those thoughts in my head, I settle and try to wring pleasure from my own body so I can focus on the task in front of me.
But no matter how hard I try, it seems just out of reach, and I’m left sweating and cranky and too turned on for my own good. Perfect. Just the way I want to start what is likely going to be a very frustrating day.
I don’t bother taking a shower. There’s going to be enough sweat today that it doesn’t matter whether I take one now. Instead, I dig in my bag for some cut-off leggings and a tank top. It’s summer in Texas, and it’s boiling hot already. At least it’s dry.
Then I grab my clipboard and my pen. This, at least, is familiar. In the five years I’ve been gone from Affliction Creek, I’ve followed the one dream I really had, and that was to be an interior designer. Now I’ve got a job at one of the best firms in Austin, and I’m just starting to get my own contracts. Which is why I’m hoping this project won’t take too long. I’m eager to get back to my work and the life that I’ve carved out for myself. Even if the city life is a little lonelier than I’d like.
I’ll start where it’s easiest, I guess. This house. I walk from room to room and do an inspection, making a note of any structural things that need to be fixed, utilities, and my own notes for decor once these are finished. It’s not the most exciting prospect, designing homes that will be rented to vacationers, but it’s simple. You have to keep a sense of universality. A style that almost anyone will find comfortable and homey.
Walls are broken, pipes are burst. I’m going to be glued to YouTube tutorials trying to figure out how to fix this stuff if I can’t scrape the money from Dad’s budget for a contractor.
The list for this house is about as long as my arm, and all I want to do is stop and have a drink. But there are still two houses to go. Lucky me.
“Howdy, neighbor.” I hear the deep voice as I step outside.
Reynard is standing on the sidewalk, looking at me. He’s dressed in low-slung jeans and a t-shirt that’s so tight I can see the muscles underneath it. Holy shit.
When we were younger, Rey was the hottest thing in this small town, and everybody knew it. But he’s filled out since then, bigger and harder. There’s an edge to him that didn’t used to be there, and I was too flustered yesterday to really, fully absorb the differences.
Yesterday he was a fantasy come to life. Today he’s a man that’s very real and so fucking hot that I can’t breathe. Not to mention that my body is still humming with unresolved tension and arousal, and it’s very aware of Rey.
“Hello.”
“How’s it going?”
I shift the clipboard to one side, balancing it on my hip. “Slowly,” I admit.
“Is it bad?”
I shrug. “That one was, but I haven’t gotten to the last two yet.”
“Which?”
Nodding to the two houses across the circle as I meet him on the sidewalk. “Those.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
I look at him. “Really? Why?”
Rey smirks and slips his hands into his pockets. “I’m off work for the day, so I figured I’d come over and see if you needed help.”
“Out of the kindness of your heart?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Something like that,” he says. “Maybe I just feel bad for you and want to see how gloriously in over your head you are.”
I glare at him. “If that’s how it’s going to be, you can fuck off.”
Rey just grins and follows me as I strike out across the asphalt. “Who knows,” he says, “maybe you’ll like the company.”
He can’t see me when I roll my eyes. I’m trying to tell myself that I’m annoyed by him and that I don’t want him here. Because it’s easier to do this kind of work alone. But the truth is that there is a storm of butterflies in my stomach that feels like a hurricane, and I’m so desperate to have him close that it’s dangerous.
I’m here for a very specific reason, and then I’m going back to Austin. No matter how much I want him to follow me into this house, pin me to the wall, and kiss the hell out of me, I can’t afford that. I can’t be distracted by him and that ridiculous face and body.
It doesn’t matter that his eyes are piercing and his jaw looks like it could do all the sawing I’m going to need to do for these houses.
Fuck.
I step into the next house and realize that I’ve only been thinking about Rey and his abs and his jawline; not even thinking about the task in front of me. God, this is going to be a nightmare.
A sexy nightmare.
He steps into the small entryway behind me, and it feels like he fills the space. “This doesn’t look too bad.”
“Maybe it’s not,” I say, and I’m aware that I don’t sound normal. I sound like I’m parched and dying. Because in a way, I am. My body is craving him like nothing I’ve ever felt, and I’m gravitating toward him like a magnet.
Jesus, Klara. Get yourself together.
Rey looks down at me, and the air between us is taut, just like it was yesterday. He looks at me like he could consume me, and his eyes drift down my body to my leggings. Is he remembering yesterday when he got an eyeful of everything south of the border?