Built

  She made a sweet and hot noise in the back of her throat and the only thing that stopped me from tumbling her back in the car and crawling all over her was the fact that her phone rang from somewhere in the car, which shattered the moment and had her pulling free of my demanding lips and grasping hands with a gasp. Her eyes were wide and rushing pure liquid blue like a mountain stream. Her lips were strawberry-stained, damp and plumped up in an inviting way, as she pushed at my chest a little, encouraging me to give her some space.

  “I have more meetings and another court appearance today. I have to go.” She tried to turn her face away from mine, but I put my finger under her chin and kept her gaze locked with my own. I leaned forward and lightly brushed my lips across her cheek. I was rewarded by the way she shivered all along where we were pressed together.

  I couldn’t stop the rushed words from falling out of my mouth as she made every effort to leave. “If you’ve never done a one-night stand, and if you aren’t the type to fuck and run, then you owe me another night, Sayer. Let me take you on a real date.”

  She blinked at me like a regal-looking owl for a minute and then reluctantly shook her head no. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

  “Why not?” If she threw our working relationship up between us like a wall I was going to smash through it with my bare hands. I knew the barrier was there, but I could see the longing and hesitancy in her gaze, so I knew the thing wasn’t built to last or to withstand my determination. I narrowed my eyes at her as she pushed me back even farther and moved her hands to the top of the car door like she was going to shut it and close me out. I put my hands over the top of hers and leaned in so that we were almost nose-to-nose and repeated, “Why not?”

  She sighed and looked down as her phone rang again. “Because who I am around you isn’t the person I normally am. When I’m with you someone else seems to take over my body and brain, but eventually the real me is going to show up and I can’t imagine she’s someone you’re going to want to spend time with. I don’t even like to hang out with her most of the time. We had the one date you promised, the one date I dreamed about forever, and it was the best date I’ve ever had. It was perfect and I want to keep the memory of that forever and not risk messing everything up by giving you the opportunity to see what I’m really like. It’s what’s best for both of us in the long run.”

  I was so stunned by her response I loosened my grip on the door, which allowed her to fold her tall frame into the driver’s seat and pull the door shut. She looked at me through the glass that separated us as I watched her dumbly. She gave a little wave and pulled out of the spot like she hadn’t just knocked me stupid with her words.

  The real her? What kind of nonsense was that? I knew all about her, the girl in the frozen kingdom that was forged of silk and steel. I knew that the girl could burn white hot and smolder when she forgot that she wasn’t supposed to react to me as a man. Just her “client,” my ass. I had the memories and the hard-on to prove otherwise.

  My mind was whirling from the high of my appearance in court and from the low of Sayer’s rejection. One thing was clear: getting my son in my life on a permanent basis wasn’t the only thing that was going to take a hell of a lot of work on my end. If I wanted the girl, whatever version of her I could get my hands on, then I was going to have to fight for her as well. I swore under my breath as I headed back toward the International. She was made of more than soft and hard things. Made of more than fire and ice. She had rivers and valleys of scars and damage that ran so deep and wide inside of her that I wondered if she even recognized what they were since they had taken so long to reach the surface. I could see them through the perfect veneer she liked to hold up for the world, and none of it scared me. A little wear and tear, even when it was on someone’s heart and soul, wasn’t worth walking away from what I knew could be the most important restoration project of my life.

  CHAPTER 11

  Sayer

  After that day in court—or rather what transpired outside after the hearing—I worked like a madwoman, burying myself in cases so I wouldn’t think about Zeb. Still, even though it had nothing to do with me or my job, I found myself wanting to check in on Hyde and see how he was adjusting to spending more time with Zeb. Somewhere during the last many weeks, the little guy had fully slipped under my defenses and was rubbing up on the opposite side of my hidden heart right across from his father.

  Hyde’s foster mother was a nice woman and let me swing by when I was finished at the office for the day. Her house was tidy, considering she had around seven kids under her roof, and I could see that Zeb’s son had genuine affection for her. I couldn’t help but smile when he immediately took my hand like we were forever friends and dragged me into the kitchen so that he could show me all the cool things he had learned to build with the Legos Zeb had bought him. It only took a glance to see that his father had clearly been adding to the collection. There were Legos as far as the eye could see.

  It made my heart thump so heavy and loud I could no longer ignore its existence. It was there, demanding to be seen and heard no matter how badly I wanted to keep ignoring it.

  “Want to build a castle?”

  “Sure. Let’s build a castle.” I sat at the table for twenty minutes moving blocks around with him, forgetting my reason for being there and just enjoying his infectious, youthful enthusiasm, when I looked over at the rather impressive structure he had in front of him. It was tall and colorful and seemed surprisingly sturdy for something built by such small hands. “You did a good job with that, kiddo.”

  Hyde beamed up at me and I wanted to hug him to me and never let him go.

  “Zeb showed me how. He said you can build as tall as the sky as long as the foundation is solid.”

  I jolted at the reminder of why I had told myself I was here. “Zeb is a smart guy and he would know all about building things to make them last. Sounds like you have fun with him.”

  The little boy looked up at me with familiar green eyes and his gap-toothed grin widened. “I get to see Zeb a lot now. It’s neat. He always plays with me and I get to ride in his truck.”

  I sighed a little, propped my elbow on the table, and put my chin in my hand. “He does have a very cool truck.”

  Hyde laughed and the sound wrapped around me more tightly than the past ever could. That sound alone was more validation that I was where I was supposed to be and doing what I was supposed to be doing than a kind word from my father ever could have been. I didn’t ever think much about kids of my own but this kid, this kid with his shaggy dark hair and forest-colored eyes, I couldn’t imagine a future without his happiness and joy being a part of it. He was going to have a shot. He was going to have love. He was going to be accepted and forgiven throughout his lifetime, and that was everything. I would never have been able to be a part of that if I hadn’t acted out of character, hadn’t embraced my desperation for something more than I had, and come to Colorado.

  “Does he take you for a ride in his truck, too?” Hyde’s eyes widened in fascination as I pushed forward a structure that could pass for a blocky castle.

  “No, but I’ve seen it, so I know how awesome it is. You’re lucky you get to ride in it. I’m jealous.” I made a funny face at him that had him laughing and holding his sides as he wiggled in his chair.

  “If you ask him for a ride I’m sure he’ll give you one. Zeb’s really nice. He’s a giant.”

  If I asked Zeb for a ride it wouldn’t be happening in his truck, or maybe it would, but either way it wasn’t the kind of ride Hyde was talking about.

  “He is kind of a giant, but that’s a good thing. No one messes with a giant.”

  The little boy nodded and pushed my haphazardly constructed castle back toward me. “And you’re a princess.”

  I couldn’t stop a snort from escaping. “Sorry, buddy, not even close.”

  His eyes widened in his face and he flashed that adorable grin at me again. He was going to be a heartbreak
er and Zeb was going to have his hands full when the little guy got older.

  “You’re pretty like a princess. You have fancy shoes like a princess. You’re nice like a princess. You grant wishes like a princess.”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Princesses grant wishes?” I think he was getting his Disney references confused, but he was five, so I wasn’t in a rush to correct him.

  He nodded so vigorously I thought he was going to topple out of his chair. “I wished for someone to come take care of me when my mom went away and you showed up with Zeb.” He looked down at the collection of Legos and then back up at me. I was blinking to combat the tears I felt burning at the back of my eyes. “You granted my wish.”

  I gulped, hard, and reached out across the table so I could touch his cheek. His skin was so soft, so delicate. I admired this little boy who’d suffered so much and still had a heart of gold. Again I thought how brave it was for people who’d been hurt, who had been kicked around by life and the people in it, to allow themselves to feel all those things and to still have hope.

  “I’m glad I got to grant your wish for you, Hyde. You deserve to have lots and lots of people in your life taking care of you.”

  The somber moment was broken by another one of the foster kids running in buck naked and screaming at the top of his lungs. I knew it was a simple cry for attention, something all kids needed, so I invited the rest of the kids in the house to play Legos with us, and by the time I left, an entire city was taking shape on the kitchen table.

  Hyde was happy. He was well adjusted, and he obviously loved Zeb. I told myself I could leave it all alone, there were no more questions to be asked, and that my part in their budding relationship was done.

  It wasn’t that easy. It never was.

  The entire way home I fought back tears because while my job was everything, while I now had a family I could lean on and things outside my office that required me to be present and available, it suddenly didn’t seem like it would be enough. Kids were never something I thought would be for me. When my father was alive I knew having one wasn’t an option. I could never subject a defenseless child to what I had endured, and frankly none of the men I dated ever inspired the urge for home and hearth in me. Not even the one I was supposed to marry. Now my father was gone, my life was my own, and there was a man . . . a man who was all man and so much more . . . who inspired everything inside of me.

  It made me want. It made me feel. It made me nervous and it made me very, very afraid.

  I was exhausted when I finally pushed open the front door of my house, so it took me a minute to realize something was off. I tossed my laptop case on the couch and scraped my fingernails over my scalp as I pulled my hair loose from where it was tied up. I was too tired even to change my shoes, so I stepped out of my heels and stripped off my blazer, carelessly tossing it on top of where my computer case had landed. A pair of stretchy pants and a giant glass of wine were calling my name even if nothing had really worked to relax me since walking away and leaving Zeb staring after me in the parking lot a couple days ago. The stunned look on his face and the way it bled into anger haunted me, but I kept telling myself it was for the best. He deserved more than a woman with an irreparable heart.

  I was halfway up the stairs and had one arm out of my mint-green blouse when my nose twitched and I realized a delicious aroma was coming from my kitchen. Considering neither Poppy nor I could cook much beyond scrambled eggs and bacon, it brought me to a stumbling halt.

  “Poppy?” I called my housemate’s name questioningly, pulled my other arm free of my shirt, and draped it absently over the stair railing. I didn’t typically run around the house half dressed, but I was tired and whatever was cooking in my kitchen smelled heavenly. In fact, my belly rumbled loud enough that I could hear it, which would have been mortifying if anyone else had been around.

  When Poppy didn’t answer me I padded toward the kitchen to investigate. I called her name again and I felt a tingle of concern at the back of my neck when there still wasn’t a reply. I was contemplating pulling my houndstooth-check skirt off and leaving it in the middle of the living room as I rounded the corner and stuck my head into the brightly painted kitchen. The sight that greeted me had me snapping up straight and automatically moving to cover myself up, even though the massive man standing at my stove had seen everything the lacy bra was covering up and then some.

  Zeb had on a blue-and-red plaid shirt, jeans that were so faded they were white and frayed at the seams, and a smirk that made my legs quiver and the place between them clench in an involuntary reaction.

  “Nice outfit. I bet that led to a good day in court.” His emerald gaze drifted over my barely covered chest, which was rapidly turning red, and his smile grew more predatory as he watched me try to make sense of what was happening.

  “Where’s Poppy? What are you doing here?”

  He turned back to the stove, so that I was staring at his broad back in surprised shock. He looked good standing in my house, at my stove. He looked like he belonged there, like he had created this space for himself, and it made my heart kick and my body tighten in longing.

  “Poppy is staying the night with Salem and Rowdy as a favor to me. I called her and asked her if I could come over and cook you dinner. I told her she was invited, but when I showed up she had a bag packed and Rowdy was already here to pick her up. She’s a smart girl and very sweet and Rowdy knows exactly what I had in mind. I consider the fact he didn’t punch me in the face as him giving me his seal of approval to date his sister.”

  I let my arms fall to my sides since he was no longer facing me and shifted awkwardly on my bare feet. “Why are you cooking me dinner, Zeb? I thought we agreed that we were going to keep things strictly professional from here on out. You in my kitchen has nothing to do with your case.”

  He turned back around with a wooden spoon in his hand and my mouth watered at the sight. It hardly had anything to do with the thick tomato sauce that was clinging to the surface. “We didn’t agree on shit. I asked you if you wanted to go on a date, you said no even though you wanted to say yes, and then you ran away. So I decided instead of going on a date I would bring the date to you.” His dark eyebrows shot upward and a sexy grin tilted up the corners of his mouth. “It was nice of you to dress for the occasion.”

  I shook my head at him but didn’t bother to try to cover myself up again. I liked the way his eyes got darker and darker the longer he looked at me. It made me warm all over, and that was a feeling I wanted to wrap around myself and never let go of. I pointed a finger between the two of us as he stuck the spoon in his mouth and winked at me. “We aren’t doing this.” I wanted to sound stern and definitive. I didn’t. I sounded wistful and sad.

  “It’s already done, Sayer.” He turned and put the spoon on the stove and I watched him crank the heat off. When he turned back around he prowled toward the island in the kitchen that separated us and narrowed his gaze on mine. “You let me in, just a little bit, but I’m a big guy, Say. I have no problem shoving the door all the way open. Now you have two choices: we can sit down and eat this awesome spaghetti I just made . . . clothing optional, or we can go to bed . . . clothing not optional.” His eyebrows snapped low over his mesmerizing eyes and a muscle twitched in his cheek under his beard. “I’m good with either one as long as you realize the second option is happening regardless.”

  His words made me quake like the earth was shifting, like the ground wasn’t solid, like all the things that kept me anchored and secure had suddenly broken loose and become insignificant. No one had ever pursued me. No one had ever chased me. No one had ever stuck with me after I pushed them away because I was really, really good at freezing people out. The men in my life were practical, found through convenience or placed there by my father. I dated them because I was supposed to, because it was easy.

  But not Zebulon Fuller. He was here, in my kitchen, looking like he was ready to fight not only me but whatever else I might throw in h
is path. I put a hand to my chest and tried to hold it steady. My heart and my mind wavered forever at war but my body always agreed with him . . . it was done.

  “I tried to explain to you why this won’t ever work out between us, Zeb. I had a long day at work and I don’t have the energy to fight you on top of it. Do you think I enjoyed telling you that, that I like being the kind of girl who knows that she’s going to end up hurting a really nice guy? It makes me feel terrible, but it’s true, and it’s easier for me to head you off at the pass than it is for both of us to crash and burn later on. Why collide when we can walk away uninjured?” I wanted to choke on the words.

  “That’s your truth, Say. It isn’t mine. Neither of us knows what is going to happen beyond this moment.”

  His expression turned thunderous as he leaned forward and braced his arms on the counter. His biceps bulged and the fabric of his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders. He was so powerful, so big in my space. He really had forced his way inside and I had no way to get him out. I knew that the hole that would be left behind if I did manage to exorcise him from my life would be unfillable and infinite.

  “My truth is that I like the woman you are with me and I like the woman you are in court. I like the woman you are with your brother and the way you fought to be his family. I like the woman I first met at the Bar that didn’t judge me when I told her I had been to prison. I like the woman that lets a scared young woman use her house as a sanctuary and leaves a bright red wall in her kitchen to make that same young woman happy. I like the woman who looks at my son and sees that he is everything and is willing to fight for him just because I asked her to. My truth is that you could never be anything other than fascinating and amazing, Sayer, and I fucking hate that you think you are anything else than all of that. So again you have two options, dinner or bed, which one do you want to pick?”