That was a lot to process. I would have straight called him a liar, but after I spilled everything to the Sew Be It ladies, they said the Justice men weren't known for getting around or dating, and it wasn’t until recently that they all were having these quick weddings to women they’d each fallen hard for.
“You decorate this place yourself?” he asks as I pull the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Cinnamon and icing are two of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to sweets. All that sugary, gooey goodness in one mouthful. Who doesn’t like them?
“Yeah, I do it on the weekends myself.” I peek over my shoulder at Blake.
He might be talking about my décor, but he’s staring at my ass. I fight a smile 'cause I should be annoyed, but there is something about the giant, rugged cowboy that has me enjoying being manhandled by him. If this behavior were coming from any other man besides him, I know I wouldn’t be putting up with it.
“You have a good eye. Have you ever thought of starting your own business?” he asks. Pride fills me that he noticed my talent so quickly.
“I’m not sure that’s something I want,” I admit. “I love decorating. It’s a passion, but my mother owns her own company with my stepfather, and work is all she does.”
“Owning your own business means you set your own hours and pick the jobs you want. You don’t have to accept everything that comes through the door.”
“You might if you’re trying to make ends meet,” I point out while getting the milk out of the fridge. You can’t have cinnamon rolls without milk. That would be a crime.
“Fair point.”
“Plus, I’m so new. Being under Novak meant people would give me a chance. Without him, why would they trust me?” I set the rolls on the table. “My look book is just ideas. I have no real experience. I haven’t worked on any real projects except for the ones I’ve done with Novak supervising me.”
“But he doesn't do any sort of decorating. What you did for Cane had to have been all you. Am I right?”
“Yeah.” I smile. That is true.
Novak always had to reach out to someone else for help or give his clients recommendations in the past. Once I started at his place, he no longer had to do that. I thought that was part of why he hired me, but now I’m not so sure it had anything to do with my talents.
“How did you know what their place needed? It's beautiful, but so is your place. Both are very different.”
“Astor loved my look book. She gave me a lot of leeway. She wasn’t sure what she wanted and kind of let me do my thing. Honestly, it was easy. She might not have known what she wanted, but I somehow did. She’s got a big strong personality but a softness too.” Blake raises his eyebrows at my description of her.
“Can I see this look book?”
“You want to see it?” I suddenly feel shy about showing him my work. It’s ridiculous because I had no problem showing it to Astor, but for some reason it’s different with him.
“Please?”
“Okay, let me grab it. Help yourself.” I motion to the food before I dart back to my bedroom and grab not only one but five of my books. When I turn to head back, I almost run right into him. He followed me.
“Damn, I didn’t know the color peach could be sexy.” He glances around my bedroom. There is no missing the outline of his erection pressing through his pants. Though it’s been there since he carried me out to his truck.
“You think my bedroom is sexy?” I laugh. It’s actually really girly.
“It’s pretty and soft. A lot like you.” His eyes go from the bed to me. I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly feeling dry.
“Kiss me, Blake.” He’s on me the second the words leave my lips.
He lifts me, bringing my mouth to his. As crazy as I think Blake is, I understand him too. From the second I walked into the coffee shop bar and saw him, there has been an instant pull. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before.
I go to bed thinking about him and wake up with him still lingering in my thoughts. He is always there. No matter how much I tell myself he isn’t right for me or that he’s a jerk. I have an attraction to him that I’ve never felt with anyone. Even when I want to smack him, I want to kiss him too.
There is something about him that is right. That’s why when he carries me over to the bed I don’t protest when he places me on it before coming down over me. In fact, I grab his shirt and yank him down to kiss me again, not wanting his mouth to leave mine. Unless it’s to go somewhere else on my body.