or head for a workout and be long gone before she was up. The sight of her high, firm breasts under a light layer of cotton as she moved around the kitchen, making him breakfast, was spending way too much time decorating the filthiest corners of his mind.
He got hard every time he pictured her nipples spiked against her T-shirt the way they had been that first morning.
It would happen now, as he stripped his gear, if he wasn’t careful. He’d be tenting his jeans while peeling off his muddy socks.
Which was why he started guiltily when Greg Winters, one of the part-timers who’d been here last year, said, “Did I see Jacqui at the front desk? Is she back to work?”
“She is.” He tried to act casual as he threw his sweat-soaked T-shirt onto the pile that would go straight into the washer when he got home. Jacqui’s home.
“Shit, that takes guts.” Greg’s tone was both disbelieving and reverent.
“Gotta have some to work in this building,” Vin said with forced lightness.
“I heard she was selling her house to you and moving to Florida,” one of the other men said.
“She still wants to sell it to me, but she’s staying here,” Vin said with equanimity.
“Where are you living until then?”
And here it was, the question he’d managed to avoid for almost two full weeks.
Vin plucked his towel from its hook, silently indicating he was heading for the shower and this conversation would wrap up very quickly. At the same time, he knew it was better to start the gossip himself, like a burn out, so he could contain the bigger inferno.
“I’m still living at her place. I don’t feel right about buying it. I think she should stay in it and I should move out, but she doesn’t want to be there alone so…” He shrugged and kept his gaze level as he stated, “I’m staying in the guest room until we settle things. Our work hours are only getting longer so neither of us is there much anyway.”
Guest room .
He heard the way all the cogs in every brain in the room hung up on that claim, halting in suspension of belief. He snapped each man a brief, warning look. Yes. The guest room. Shit, he slept alongside women in the bush every summer, had even shared rooms in bunkhouses when things were busy and cots were at a premium. No one had jumped to conclusions he was sleeping with any of them .
“Good work today,” he said gruffly as he left for the shower, thinking, Come on fire season. Once it started, no one expended an ounce of energy on anything but smothering flames.
A sick knowledge that word was flying through the ranks lingered in the pit of his gut, though.
Sure enough, as he left later that day, he felt the sideways looks aimed his way, especially when Jacqui came out behind him and called his name from the steps.
“Are you going home? Can you take him? I have to stop at the post office.” She showed him the handful of envelopes she held and pointed at the dog who’d followed her onto the steps.
“Sure,” Vin said with forced indifference. He opened the door of his truck and Muttley trotted down the stairs then ambled over to him, leaping into the cab the way he had all winter—except now it held notable significance to everyone in the vicinity.
Half an hour later, Jacqui came into the house as Vin was scouting dinner ingredients. He’d pulled a couple of chicken breasts from the freezer, but they were frozen solid.
“I guess I’ll thaw those in the microwave?”
“Oh, um, I didn’t take anything out because I’ve been meaning to ask you… You’ve been so busy I haven’t seen you.” She set down her bag on one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m going to Russ’s sister’s for dinner tonight. His parents are going to be there and I know you’re on call with S&R, but… I spoke to Rhonda. She said of course to invite you.”
He made a face, thinking of the gossip that was already starting.
“Please?” she blurted with panic edging her eyes.
Vin recognized that look.
He got hard every time he pictured her nipples spiked against her T-shirt the way they had been that first morning.
It would happen now, as he stripped his gear, if he wasn’t careful. He’d be tenting his jeans while peeling off his muddy socks.
Which was why he started guiltily when Greg Winters, one of the part-timers who’d been here last year, said, “Did I see Jacqui at the front desk? Is she back to work?”
“She is.” He tried to act casual as he threw his sweat-soaked T-shirt onto the pile that would go straight into the washer when he got home. Jacqui’s home.
“Shit, that takes guts.” Greg’s tone was both disbelieving and reverent.
“Gotta have some to work in this building,” Vin said with forced lightness.
“I heard she was selling her house to you and moving to Florida,” one of the other men said.
“She still wants to sell it to me, but she’s staying here,” Vin said with equanimity.
“Where are you living until then?”
And here it was, the question he’d managed to avoid for almost two full weeks.
Vin plucked his towel from its hook, silently indicating he was heading for the shower and this conversation would wrap up very quickly. At the same time, he knew it was better to start the gossip himself, like a burn out, so he could contain the bigger inferno.
“I’m still living at her place. I don’t feel right about buying it. I think she should stay in it and I should move out, but she doesn’t want to be there alone so…” He shrugged and kept his gaze level as he stated, “I’m staying in the guest room until we settle things. Our work hours are only getting longer so neither of us is there much anyway.”
Guest room .
He heard the way all the cogs in every brain in the room hung up on that claim, halting in suspension of belief. He snapped each man a brief, warning look. Yes. The guest room. Shit, he slept alongside women in the bush every summer, had even shared rooms in bunkhouses when things were busy and cots were at a premium. No one had jumped to conclusions he was sleeping with any of them .
“Good work today,” he said gruffly as he left for the shower, thinking, Come on fire season. Once it started, no one expended an ounce of energy on anything but smothering flames.
A sick knowledge that word was flying through the ranks lingered in the pit of his gut, though.
Sure enough, as he left later that day, he felt the sideways looks aimed his way, especially when Jacqui came out behind him and called his name from the steps.
“Are you going home? Can you take him? I have to stop at the post office.” She showed him the handful of envelopes she held and pointed at the dog who’d followed her onto the steps.
“Sure,” Vin said with forced indifference. He opened the door of his truck and Muttley trotted down the stairs then ambled over to him, leaping into the cab the way he had all winter—except now it held notable significance to everyone in the vicinity.
Half an hour later, Jacqui came into the house as Vin was scouting dinner ingredients. He’d pulled a couple of chicken breasts from the freezer, but they were frozen solid.
“I guess I’ll thaw those in the microwave?”
“Oh, um, I didn’t take anything out because I’ve been meaning to ask you… You’ve been so busy I haven’t seen you.” She set down her bag on one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m going to Russ’s sister’s for dinner tonight. His parents are going to be there and I know you’re on call with S&R, but… I spoke to Rhonda. She said of course to invite you.”
He made a face, thinking of the gossip that was already starting.
“Please?” she blurted with panic edging her eyes.
Vin recognized that look.
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