My gaze drifted down his body. The tattoo inked on his shoulder spread down his arm and was hard to make out under the glare of the sun. His chest was hard, tight, ropes of pure muscle demanding my attention, the veins down his arms making me wonder just how much strength pulsed through him.
I dragged my eyes back to meet his. “For a guy your size, I find it doubtful that little ol’ me could force you to do anything.”
“You’d be surprised.” He bit his lip, and I had to cross my legs to stop my pussy from throbbing.
Silence settled between us. A gentle summer breeze drifted through the leaves while birds sang their morning tunes. Suddenly I was hyperaware of me being semi-naked and in close proximity to him while his tanned skin begged me to trace my fingertips down his strong arms.
I pulled my fingers through my curls, the ends coiled in a knotted mess. “Listen, keg guy—”
“Fun fact,” he interrupted. “I wasn’t the keg delivery guy.”
“You weren’t?”
“No. I was dropping off some paint samples for your dad when you just assumed I was there delivering alcohol.”
“Um,” I rubbed my temples, confused as fuck. “My brain is sort of fried right now. I’m having a hard time putting two and two together. Just,” I glanced at him, “why are you here?”
He crossed his arms, dragging my attention to his rock-hard chest once again. “Your dad hired me to do some renovations to the cottage.”
“You’re the handyman?”
“I prefer the word craftsman.”
I lifted a brow. “I’ll stick with handyman. Or I can always call you the man my evil stepmom hired to destroy every trace of my mom in this cottage.”
“Let’s stick with handyman then.”
“Let’s.” I tightened my grip on the sheet I clutched around me, Noah and I keeping our gazes locked. As if things weren’t already awkward enough, I felt this insane tension stretch between us—especially thinking about how his kiss set my lips on fire the night we kissed. How easy it was to kiss him as if we had been doing it our entire lives. As if we were meant to do it. Kiss each other. Forever.
Deep blue eyes pinned me with a stare that caressed my entire body, chills erupting across my skin. His chiseled jaw ticked, reminding me of how it felt having his five-o’clock shadow brush against my chin while our breaths fused, and tongues dueled in a kiss I felt all the way down my spine.
Noah wasn’t my usual type. Maybe it was the social circles my family moved around in since I always went for the rich overachievers who owned wardrobes of designer clothing and drove a different sports car every day of the week. Like Oakley. The type of guy with well-rounded edges and deceiving sophistication.
But Noah wasn’t like that. He was all brute and strength, rough around the edges and unrefined. There was this thrill in his eyes, a sense of danger that kept luring me in, captivating me.
I cleared my throat and pointed over my shoulder. “I better—”
“Sienna?” Oakley’s voice broke through the awkward moment.
“Fuck,” I muttered and glanced around.
Noah arched a brow. “Let me guess. Boyfriend?”
“No. Not boyfriend.” I scooped up the sheet from around my legs, wanting to run in the other direction from where Oakley’s voice came. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“The guy you made jealous by kissing me?”
“Yes.”
“The guy who wore the Gucci jacket?”
“Yes.”
“The guy with the perfect haircut?”
“Oh my God. Yes. That guy.”
Noah pursed his lips, his expression annoyingly amused as I rushed past him, aiming to hide around the corner only to slam right into Oakley.