I watch as he swipes the screen, and I regret not having a password. I stand frozen with the sexy Ridge Beckett holding me against him, while one of his hot best friends and employees makes himself comfortable as he sifts through my cell phone. A slow grin tips his lips, and then I hear his phone beep in his pocket. Tyler looks up. “You never know when I might need some company for dinner. I hate eating alone.” He bites his lip to keep from grinning.
He texted himself so he would have my number. Tyler is hot, but he doesn’t make me shiver in eighty-degree temperatures. He doesn’t have my knees locking and refusing to move from his grip of my hips. Sure, Ridge’s hold is tight, but I didn’t exactly put up much effort to escape. It was all for show. I’ll stand here as long as he does, soaking up his heat, the feel of his hands on my waist. The way his fingers slip just under my T-shirt, his thumb lightly caressing my bare skin. Yep, I’m good right here.
“What the fuck?” Ridge growls. “Did you just send yourself a text from her phone?”
Tyler’s grin grows wider. “Good, right?” he asks.
“Motherfucker,” Ridge swears under his breath.
I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. This time, when I try to step away, he releases a heavy sigh and lets me. “I can take the pictures,” I tell Tyler, holding my hand out for my phone. He winks and hands it back to me.
I quickly grab it and pull up the camera app. I step further away from Ridge, and it’s as though my body can feel the separation. I ache to be back in his arms. Saving me from being hit in the head, holding me for real—at this point, I’ll take whatever I can get.
“Watch your step,” Ridge tells me.
Looking down, I see the uneven terrain of the flooring. It’s an inch at the most. I look back up and find his eyes locked on me. His stare is intense and a little intimidating. Not intimidating like Cal, no. Ridge’s intense is . . . sexy and all-consuming. In the best of ways.
What is it about Kendall that makes me forget everything else but her? When she’s near me, the chaos that runs through my head on a daily basis quiets down. The stress of raising Knox on my own, the worry of being able to give him what he needs, the love of both parents—that all fades into the background to simmer while in the presence of Kendall Dawson. It’s not just that; I also seem to forget how to act when she’s around. Although I don’t know any man who, given the opportunity to have his hands on her curves, to be able to trace her bare skin, wouldn’t have reacted the same way. I didn’t want to let go. Leave it to my band of brothers from different mothers to bring me back to reality.
“Time for a break,” I tell them, not tearing my eyes away from Kendall. I can’t. I hear them snicker while their heavy-booted feet carry them out the door. I don’t think either of us takes a breath, waiting for them to leave.
“How was your week?” she asks, breaking eye contact and looking down at the phone in her hands.
I thought about you all week. “Good. Busy. Just taking it one day at a time.” I don’t know if she meant here at her grandparents’ place or at home with Knox, but I gave her both. I’m exhausted from middle-of-the-night feedings, and work is stressful when it lies on your shoulders and those shoulders are exhausted from the weight of the world. “How about yours? I thought I would’ve seen you around here before now.” Hoped is more like it. I was disappointed when Reagan said she talked to Kendall earlier on Wednesday and she asked her to check in with me about the job. I wanted to call her, text her and demand she ask me herself, telling myself it’s not because I wanted to hear her voice or read her words.
“Same old.”
“You have plans tonight?” What the fuck am I doing?
“No, I work tomorrow. It’ll be a quiet night in for me.”
I chuckle. “Me too. Little man isn’t much for conversation these days.”
She grins. “He’s adorable. Don’t worry, he’ll be chatting your head off soon enough.”
“That’s what I hear. To hear my parents’ tell it, if I blink I’ll miss him growing up.”
“I’ve heard that.” She looks around the demolished kitchen. “So, things good here? Do you need me for anything?”
Nope, just you. “We’re good. It looks rough now, but I promise when we’re through it will be magazine-worthy.”
A sad smile crosses her face. “I love this house. The big backyard. I have so many memories of my childhood here. Mom and Dad worked a lot, so I stayed with my grandparents a lot. I’m sad that they’re selling.”
“Great view,” I say, commenting on the backyard that has her rapt attention through the kitchen window.
“I’ll get out of your hair. I have a few errands to run today, and then I’m parking it on the couch with a book.”
She heads toward the door, and I want to reach out for her as she passes and demand she stay here and talk to me. I grip my fists tightly to keep from doing just that. I turn and follow her like a puppy out of the house, not bothering to look at the guys as we head to her car. Instead, I keep my eyes trained on her ass, those long, tanned legs and the gentle sway of her hips.
I should have been paying attention to where I was walking, because she stops suddenly and I barrel into her. My hands land on her hips, keeping her from falling. Keeping her close. She smells incredible, sweet like honey. I rest my chin on the top of her head and soak up the feel of her in my arms. I’m sure any minute now she’s going to pull away from me.