“Since . . . ?”
“Since I’ve had fun on a stakeout.”
She laughed. “I thought you were going to say since you’ve had a woman in your car who you weren’t trying to sleep with.”
“Who says I’m not trying to sleep with you?” he asked.
Note to self: Don’t tease him. He’s better at it than you.
“Come here, Kylie.”
His voice was deep and steady and she didn’t hesitate. She scooted close and hard arms pulled her in. Lowering his head, he kissed her. He tasted like chocolate, smelled like aspen wood, and felt like heaven. It was the best kiss she’d ever had and she didn’t want it to end, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Eric come out the back door of the gallery. “Joe.”
“Yeah?” His mouth was making its hungry way along her jaw to her ear, where he took her lobe in between his teeth and gave a slight tug, causing an answering tug between her legs.
“D-don’t we need to talk to Eric?”
He licked the spot he’d just bitten. “Uh-huh.”
She put her hand on his chest and pulled back enough to meet his gaze. “So are we going to do that now?”
He jerked upright and looked out the window to see what she had, that Eric had just come out the back door of the gallery. “Shit.” He was out of the truck so fast her head was spinning. But that might have been the kiss.
Or . . . the knowledge that she’d once again caused Joe to lose control, a fact that gave her a surge of feminine power that had her smiling and unable to stop.
When she followed him, he glanced over at her and narrowed his eyes at her smile. This only made her smile wider and he shook his head—whether at her or him, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought maybe it was at himself. Which she liked very much.
Inexplicably happy, she followed him and took in the sight of Eric. She hadn’t seen him in years and he hadn’t changed. He still looked like Gumby in cowboy gear, complete with hat and boots. When he turned from locking the back door of the gallery and saw them standing there, his eyes went straight to Joe and lit up like Christmas.
“Wow, dreams do come true,” he said and gave Joe a slow look up and down.
Joe didn’t blink, just gave Eric that patented badass look of his, the one that would have had Kylie peeing her pants if it’d been directed at her.
“We’d like to ask you some questions,” Joe said.
“Sugar, you can ask me anything you’d like.”
Joe slid a look in Kylie’s direction, bringing Eric’s attention to her for the first time. He paused and then his entire face brightened, going from flirty to happy. “Kylie Masters!” he squealed. “Oh my God, is that really you?”
“You recognize me? This isn’t even my own hair!”
“I know. I have that same wig. And with or without the hair, your smile hasn’t changed and neither have your eyes.” He pulled her in for a warm hug, which she returned with a sigh. So much for her disguise. She’d have to get better at that.
“It’s definitely been too long,” Eric murmured. “Way too long. I tried to contact you so many times after—”
She closed her eyes and he broke off. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Of course you don’t want to talk about it.”
He’d always been one of her favorite of all of her grandpa’s apprentices and now she remembered why. She shook her head and hoped that Joe wasn’t picking up on all the things that weren’t being said, but she knew he was far too sharp for that. The fact was, she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want anyone else to know her shameful truth.
“I heard you were working for Gib,” Eric said to her. “That’s awesome. He’s doing so great with Reclaimed Woods. I always thought that you two might end up . . .” He gave Joe a quick glance and then lowered his voice. “You know.”
“I work for Gib,” she said. “That’s it.” There’d always been an unspoken belief amongst everyone at one time or another that she and Gib would end up together. And for the longest time she’d believed it too.
Gib was a good guy. But deep down she could admit that she’d always known he wasn’t the right guy. She realized now that there was a huge difference between teenage love and grown-up love. In the past, she’d never really let herself think about being happy and in love. But sometimes in the deep dark of the night, she’d dreamed of what type of man she secretly wanted, and she always thought it’d be someone like Gib—kind, caring, gentle in spirit.
But lately she’d realized something. He was actually the complete opposite of what she needed, and that realization had absolutely nothing to do with her annoying attraction to Joe and everything to do with her own secret craving for love and acceptance.
Except . . . maybe it had a little to do with her attraction to Joe. Over the past week, he’d been there for her without question. In fact, he’d stepped up in a way no one else ever had. Whatever the two of them had going on, friends or maybe more or maybe far less, the fact remained that in a very short time, she’d come to trust him more than she’d thought herself capable of.
And there was more. In addition to the trust and the fact that she ached for his body, he allowed her to be her. Even when she was crazy, wearing a blond wig, insisting he learn how to carve.
And because of all of that, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She wanted more.
A lot more.
“What are you doing out here in the back?” Eric asked. “I didn’t see you inside. I would’ve loved to introduce you to everyone.”
“We weren’t inside,” Kylie said. “We didn’t have an invite—”
“Oh my God. Darlin’, why didn’t you get in contact with me?” Eric asked, horrified. “I’d have had you as a guest of honor!” He gave Joe another sideways glance. “And this tall, cool drink of water could have come with.”
“His name is Joe. He’s . . .” She met Joe’s eyes and saw a flash of humor . She had no idea how to describe him and he knew it. “. . . Helping me. I’ve had a few—”
“Very excited to meet you,” Joe interrupted her and pulled a small pad of paper and a pen from one of his pockets, leaving her wanting to go through his pockets sometime to see what she might find . . .
She came back from her brief and very naughty fantasy to hear Joe ask Eric for his autograph.
Eric fluttered in excitement. “Seriously? Oh wow. Sure thing, sugar, I’ll give you my autograph. I’ll give you whatever you want.” He grinned and signed the pad with a flourish.
Joe looked at the signature and then at Kylie.
Her penguin thief wasn’t Eric. “I have something to show you,” she said and pulled out the Polaroid she’d gotten, the one with the table and bench. “I thought maybe this was your work?”
Eric looked down at the table with a frown. “That looks like your grandpa’s, darlin’.” The frown deepened when he took in the bench next. “But that isn’t his, and it sure as hell isn’t mine either. I don’t do sloppy edges like that.” He shuddered. “And I’d never have picked that color stain. What am I looking at?”
“An imposter. I’m trying to find the woodworker who made the bench.”