Deceived (Foolish Hearts Book 2) Page 3

  “I’m going to set you down.”

  I guess that was the cue that told me to open my eyes, leave my fantasy behind, and disengage my hands from around his neck.

  Sadly, my feet hit the floor and the warmth of his body disappeared, leaving me wishing that I had been brave enough to initiate a kiss.

  “Daphne.” My name sounded so amazing coming from him.

  “Yes.” My reply might have sounded a little bit too breathy, but I had hopes of him saying my name in a more intimate way.

  “You have paint in your hair and down your back.” His hand skimmed the back of my head and down my spine, making me wish that it was over my bare skin. I could only imagine what it would feel like as just my naughty thoughts were causing my skin to form goosebumps all over.

  “And you have it in the front of your hair.” I reached up, touching him with my fingertips, and then showed him the paint on my fingers.

  “You better go rinse off,” he said with a smile, reaching up to move his hair back in place, paint and all.

  I nearly laughed at the way it stuck, but I stilled my laughter, biting my lip while filthier, yummy thoughts raced like wildfire through my brain.

  “You too. I have a big shower.” I don’t know what came over me, again, but I crooked my finger at him in a come-hither motion, and walked backwards toward my room.

  “That is a huge shower,” he agreed without taking a step.

  “Built for at least two,” I called out, hoping he would take my hint. Still not thinking or caring, I stripped off my top—ruined thanks to my lack of grace on a ladder. I should not have been wearing it to paint in the first place…and let it fall away from my body. “Oops,” tumbled from my lips before I turned the corner away from his view, unzipped my shorts and let them fall on the hexagon teal and black tile on the floor. No panties, I turned and stepped inside of the stall to adjust the water.

  I had no idea if he would drop his clothes and join me or not, I simply was not using my logical thinking skills at all…nor reality.

  Damn! If only it was really happening. If only I wasn’t alone in my shower stall, washing the paint from my hair all by my lonesome, without big strong hands tugging it and capturing my mouth.

  However, that was not to be since no one came to join me and, in fact, he was gone by the time I walked back into the room we had been working in, deliciously together. Only a note remained in the cleaned up room, hooked to the infamous ladder.

  STAY OFF!

  I will return tomorrow at my regular time.

  Snatching the note off the ladder, I proceeded to my kitchen, pulled out a wine glass from the cupboard, and a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator. It might have only been three o’clock but like the saying goes, it was five o’clock somewhere and I was ready to join those people in a drink. Luckily, I didn’t have to drink alone since my phone rang at precisely the same time as I took my first sip.

  “Madison, you will never believe what happened today.” My best friend had been listening to me for days, but she was really in for a shocker. “I pray that I did not pucker my lips and moan when I was in his arms… or loudly in the shower.”

  “Woah there! Back up and start from the beginning…sounds like you’re leaving a lot of your story out and I want full details… Pouring a glass of wine now to join you and getting comfortable.”

  She knew me well enough to know that I was dangling a wine glass in one hand while talking to her. I imagined her tying up her long, wavy black hair into a messy bun, kicking off her shoes, and exchanging her contacts for a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that hid her brilliant turquoise eyes. I’d seen her in unwind-mode a number of times to know her routine.

  Madison and I met at a self-help event…or inspirational…motivational event. We sat right next to each other and giggled through the ridiculous words a male speaker was jabbering on about. In fact, we were both asked to leave and did so, gladly—making our way to a bar in the lobby of the hotel. We became instant white wine sisters, clinking glasses and spilling our life stories which included why we were attending the event. The literary world was something we both hoped to conquer or at least break into, but were too afraid or overwhelmed by the process. I wanted to write a book that was pretty much an artsy coffee table style book which could also be used as a textbook for an art history class. Madison wanted to be a literary PR agent—she loved to read, had no desire to write, and possessed a lot of insight, mixed with great opinions about what she read.

  Seemed like we were destined to meet; a writer and an agent both in need of a little push. And once we had sealed our bond over a few glasses of wine and carefully selected our next speaker, we found exactly what we needed while listening to Riesling Roubaix. Of course we picked her strictly for her wine name, but she was an excellent selection with her positive attitude about the glass is always half full. No, that was not part of her speech but it would be fitting with a wine for a first name. She is actually known by many as the Ice Cream Lady since she gets everyone thinking about their favorite ice cream, obtaining it, and beyond. Sounds silly, but she was brilliant enough that we both purchased her book and have used it as a guideline of sorts—mine is written in all over the place and pages are earmarked. I often thank the book for my successes in life and for bringing me Madison in a roundabout way.

  Our perfect friendship was exactly what I needed as I was diving into new territory; really liking a man and feeling that our connection was headed toward big things.

  Ha! Big things! I was sure that Caldwell had a really big thing. I didn’t want to blow things with him…my choice of words, perhaps, needed to be changed up a bit. He seemed like someone I would like in my life forever—I just had to figure out how and in what way.

  I hoped that chatting about Caldwell with Madison would help me.

  Chapter Five

  Caldwell

  “How are things going with the Streamline house or should I ask, how things are going with the blonde goddess?” Ashton inquired as I worked on a modification for a cabinet I picked up from an antique shop I stumbled upon downtown. Really it was what most people would call a junk store. A place filled with a lot of stuff where nothing was nicely on display and required a bit of hunting and digging through piles to find treasure.

  “She’s slowly killing me every damn day.” I groaned, setting down the drill I was using and reaching for the beer my brother was offering me. “A couple weeks ago she insisted on helping me.” The full visual was clear as day. “The goddess climbed up on a ladder in tiny shorts and a halter top to paint a bookcase I had installed—”

  He interrupted me with laughter and smart remarks. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me! You lost focus and fucked something up?”

  “No, smart ass! I have control…too much apparently.” I took a big swig of some fancy IPA shit Ashton insisted on drinking—who wants to drink fruity beer? “It was a good thing that I was gawking at her…she lost her balance and I caught her.” I had to stop, just talking about it had me all worked up. “I swear to God she was waiting for…or wanting me to kiss her. I just looked at her while holding her longer than I should have…”

  “Why didn’t you kiss her if you felt like she wanted it?” Ashton made it sound so simple.

  “What if I was wrong…I questioned myself… Chickening out, I set her on her feet and pointed out that she had paint all over her. She went off to shower and told me she had a very big stall before she backed away. Fuck!” I shook my head, recalling the look on her unforgettable face, like she was inviting me to join her and the way she tossed her top before disappearing.

  “Fuck is right. Why didn’t you scoop her up and scrub her down?”

  Ashton’s question had me remembering every little detail that could’ve affirmed my suspicions and made it alright to do as he suggested. I stood there stunned, listening to the water running, thought about going after her, and then came back to my senses. Instead I cleaned up, wrote a note, and got the fuck out of t
here. I truly had no desire to fuck things up and end our daily visits. If I read her wrong and she fired me, I would’ve been kicking myself over and over for making such a dumbass move.

  Of course, at home as I stepped under the spray of my own shower, my mind wandered to what could’ve happened. Would I have her on her knees or would I be on mine…I wasn’t sure if I had the patience for either of those choices. More than likely, I saw her bent over with me holding her in place while taking her from behind with my hand stroking between her thighs. So much pent-up frustration that needed to be released, there was no way I could’ve lasted long. I already knew that my jacking off never lasted very long while I thought about her in the shower, daily. I needed to turn off the visual running through my head as I didn’t need my brother teasing me about getting a boner just thinking about Daphne.

  “One of these days, you’re just going to have to test the waters, bro.”

  “Maybe…maybe after I finish the job.”

  Yes, maybe I would ask her out for dinner, do things the right way—date, get to know each other on a different level, and ease into sex. I was sure that she would agree to more than me working for her. I didn’t think I was crazy or imagining her interest in me. The looks I caught her giving me, subtle remarks that sounded like they had double meanings, the way she held onto me tightly and wet her lips with closed eyes.

  Then a few days after telling Ashton about the paint incident, there was no mistaking that there was heat going on between us. Daphne walked in the door and I nearly lost it. I had seen her dressed in some pretty sexy casual clothing. But fuck me! She strutted in like a runway model in a fitted dress that molded to her every fucking amazing curve. Her tits! They had to be in some kind of a pushup bra because they were popping up and out of the top of her above the fucking knee dress.

  Damn! My eyes couldn’t stop their journey right down her tan legs—

  “You like my come-fuck-me heels?” She had caught me looking and was having a laugh with a sexy grin before kicking off the shoes and moving toward the kitchen. “Let me make you lunch.”

  “How about you be my lunch?” I couldn’t stop the words from slipping from my mouth and they were definitely loud enough for her to hear them clearly.

  “Oh, naughty boy,” she said with a smirk and a wink.

  “Man…” I corrected her as I moved closer to her. “All man.”

  “Yes,” seemed to hang in the air after her breathy voice uttered it and I nearly missed the rest of her words. “I have seen just how much of a man you are.”

  It was my turn to wear a shit-eating grin and I wanted to ask her if she had been checking me out…what she meant exactly. Unfortunately, we were interrupted by my cellphone ringing over and over.

  “Umm…” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked down at my screen. “I need to take this.”

  Just like that, the moment was over and I had to pack up my things and run off to my real job an hour earlier than normal. I begged her forgiveness and did something completely unprofessional. I leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before walking out the door—forgetting to clean up my mess. It wasn’t that I left a dirty workspace that hit me so much…it was that I had kissed her. What the fuck was I thinking? Kissing her like it was the right…or natural thing to do as I ran out the door to work. That was a couple’s thing to do, for sure… an “I’m off to work, Honey, be back later” kind of thing—it wasn’t what a construction worker did to his employer.

  I didn’t really think about the move I had made until after I had called my brother and was on my way into work without changing clothes or picking up my car. But then again, the problem at work didn’t require me to look any other way.

  “Ashton, I need your help. Someone crashed their car into the front window of my place. Bring a cleanup crew, builders, and glass guys. I will pay whatever it costs. I can’t afford to be closed down right now. One night and one day is all I can afford. The day after is tour day. Dude, I cannot pull out and miss out on the busiest day of the month, the tourists, and the potential buyers…new clients—”

  “Breathe! I will gather a team and be down there within the hour.” He was right, I was practically hyperventilating—not a good thing to be doing while driving through the crazy ass downtown traffic. “We will get this fixed…I promise, bro.” His words put me at ease and allowed me to focus on not hitting pedestrians by running red lights which I nearly did a couple times.

  When I arrived the damage wasn’t nearly as bad as I had imagined and I was happy to hear that no one was hurt on the sidewalk or inside my building. Normally, I would have waited for insurance companies to take care of the damage but I didn’t have the time to wait for the battle lines to clear as to which insurance—the driver’s or mine—would be paying out. I had big things on the horizon and they were coming my way quickly. I just needed the cops to take all of their photos, measurements, and log their evidence so I could get work underway. Looking the structure over with Ashton and his crew, we could see that the major damage was shattered glass, splintered wood, and dislodged black brickwork. With the extra cash I planned to pay under the table as a bonus to their regular fees, they were more than willing to work around the clock until it was fixed.

  I hoped photos and invoices would be enough for the insurance company to pay, but if they never mailed me a check, I was fine. My business was up and running within thirty-six hours, my employees didn’t lose too many hours, and the most important part—only the building front sustained damage. None of the items inside came in contact with the car.

  To prevent the same thing from happening again, I went ahead and added an iron railing with built-in plant holders that the city had already approved for a future patio. I guess you could say that things were better than before—new and improved. Not that the accident was a good thing, but sometimes one thing leads to another like it had with Daphne.

  I couldn’t wait to have her see my place and the new addition that I hoped to use for events. A closed-in patio allowed me to have libations outdoors as long as people stayed within the area. Of course, I needed to figure out a good way of telling her the truth about me. Maybe she would be flattered that I took an interest in her and her house. With my line of work, owning an art gallery, it would make sense that I would know about her house, but I should’ve been up front with her.

  Chapter Six

  Daphne

  What was going to happen when the construction work was done on my house? I had a little taste of what it would be like to have him run off to another job when something went wrong on another site of his. I hated it! It had me hoping and praying that the woman of the house was repulsive so he would not be attracted to her.

  I wanted him to be all mine!

  So did I ask Caldwell over for dinner to thank him? A final payment with a bonus payment that maybe included a mouthwatering dessert? Time was ticking away and I had already flirted with him a million and one times…and he reciprocated more than a few times as well. There was definitely something building between us, but if he wasn’t going to do anything about it… Maybe I needed to come up with something to have him come running after hours.

  Could I break something?

  Fortunately, Mother Nature was looking out for me and I didn’t have to destroy any of his hard work or something that maybe he wasn’t capable of fixing. A cold, crazy beginning of the summer thunder and lightning, hail storm that looked more like a snow storm wreaked havoc on a large tree close to my house. The high winds didn’t completely topple it over, but its heavy branches fell and blocked Caldwell’s truck—trapping him inside with me.

  It’s true that he could’ve called a car service to take him home, but I was happy that he didn’t since the power was out. If he had attempted to leave, I may have begged him to not go. I wasn’t fond of the crashing booms that the storm was providing and how pitch black it was outside. My entire street…neighborhood appeared to be without electricity.<
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  Caldwell made me feel safe and he made the night fun insisting that we were just out in the wilderness camping. Ha! Camping and Daphne did not mix well, but I could play make-believe in the comfort of my house. With the help of flashlights on our cellphones, we were able to locate provisions like candles, wine…and then we were able to cook. Although, I will say that we ate dessert first since I had some amazing pints of ice cream we couldn’t let go to waste. I’d like to say that it was my idea, but it was all Caldwell…like I said, he was fun with a capital “F” the entire time.

  He was even a good sport when I talked him into playing a round of drunk Truth or Dare under his control. “Let’s set some rules.” I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head. “Whatever is revealed here, stays here…no judgement…no sharing beyond this room.”

  “Ohhh…you must have some good secrets or skeletons in your closet,” I said, grinning while filling up our glasses with the remaining wine in our second bottle. “We might need this…and I have another one.”

  “I may not be able to perform if we drink another bottle.”

  Damn the darkness! I couldn’t see the full expression on his face, but I was pretty sure he meant that in a dirty, delicious way.

  “Don’t try to distract me,” I said, moving out of the kitchen to where Caldwell had made a fire in the fireplace of my living room. “Come on,” I purred over my shoulder and saw that he was right behind me. Sitting on the floor on one side of a low, custom blond wood coffee table in the shape of a boomerang, I decided to go first. “Truth or dare?”

  I nearly lost it when he replied, “dare,” in his sexy voice, sitting opposite of me.

  “I knew it! You have a secret life you’re not telling me about.” I laughed, sipped my wine, and tried to come up with a dare that wasn’t too forward. I don’t remember removal of clothing as part of the game—maybe we should’ve played a stripping game instead.

  “Are you too afraid to dare me to do something?” There was that voice again, but that time it truly rattled my entire body—pebbling my nipples and dampening my lacy panties that I was happy to be wearing in case we engaged in a bit of show and tell next. “I’m up for the challenge,” he added, looking over the rim of his glass while he took a drink.