But before she could respond, Drake extended his hand to her. “Come on in. You should see what Emma’s done in here.”
When her fingers settled in the warmth of his palm, a shiver ran up her spine. She couldn’t deny her connection to this man, and all at once she knew that tonight, she wasn’t going to try.
She wanted to lose herself in him again, to chase the feelings that only he had ever inspired. But for now, she drew in a deep breath and entered the barn, every step, every moment of waiting ramping the desire coursing through her veins.
“Oh, how beautiful,” she murmured, her gaze going upward where yards and yards of pale pink tulle wove through the rafters, creating a soft canopy dotted with white lights woven through the fabric.
Below, the reclaimed wood support beams were wound with tulle and white ribbons, like giant Maypoles. Candelabra stands were already in place around the room, the white candles protected inside tiny glass globes. On the wooden floor, rectangular tables were laid out at angles. The focus on the head table adorned with white linen and skirted with more tulle.
“There will be greenery and pink peonies on almost every surface.” Drake gestured around the room with his free hand. “My job was the tulle, and Emma assured me any spots that I missed would be covered with flowers.”
“You did an incredible job.” She wondered what it would be like to have a brother—or even a sister—make that kind of loving effort. To have a sibling who cared so deeply about her happiness. “Emma must be thrilled.”
Fleur could feel her heart beat in the palm of her hand where it rested against Drake’s, her emotions swelling too big to contain. She wanted to wrap herself in the hidden kindness of this man, the generosity of spirit in someone who would make a life’s work of his parents’ dreams, or set everything else aside to decorate a barn for a beloved sister.
“I think so. Now you just need to come through with the food—”
Fleur touched his jaw, turning his face toward her so she could look him in the eye. Then, stretching up on her toes, she brushed a kiss over his lips. Once. Twice.
When she settled on her feet, she noticed with pleasure that his eyes remained closed for a moment afterward. He blinked them open again, heated appreciation in their depths.
“What was that for?” he asked softly, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her waist.
“That was my way of apologizing for ever thinking you were a bad sibling.” She’d believed the worst of him for years and he hadn’t deserved it.
“You can think whatever you like about me if you apologize that way,” he murmured, his arms flexing in a way that brought her closer still.
“I just remembered I’ve actually had a lot of wicked thoughts about you over the years.” She kissed his cheek and down to his jaw. Taking her time, breathing in the pine and musk scent of his skin. “Atoning thoroughly could take a while.”
With a hungry groan of appreciation he backed her deeper into the building. Gently, but so very deliberately.
“In that case, I need to show you my favorite part of the restoration.” He gripped one of her thighs on either side of his waist while she kept her arms around his neck. He lifted her into position.
She rocked against him, reveling in the hard length of him all too apparent through the denim of his jeans as he walked.
“What might that be?” She paused in her kisses long enough to peer over her shoulder so she could see where he was taking her.
“We converted the old hayloft to private guest quarters since the restored barn is going to be used strictly as a place for entertaining.” His long strides brought them to an open staircase at the back of the building. He began to climb the wide wooden steps, still holding her, and she could see a small landing with open doors on either side.
“Are we really going to fool around in the hayloft?” A smile pulled at her lips at the thought.
A moment later, his mouth claimed hers for a slow, thorough tasting. When he finished, she was breathing hard, growing taut with desire.
“With any luck we’re going to do a whole lot more than that.” Entering one of the open rooms with her still in his arms, Drake kicked the heavy door closed behind them.
Fleur’s heart sped, her limbs growing heavy as she pressed herself to him. She worked her fingers under the sleeves of his T-shirt, gripping the muscles there.
“If you get these clothes off, you’d find out for yourself.” She kissed along the neckline of his shirt, then licked a path underneath it to his collarbone. “But until then, my mouth can only make amends for so much.”
Thirteen
Fleur saw the way her words affected him.
Drake’s fingers flexed into her thighs, a raw squeeze before he lifted her off him to settle her on the white duvet in the guest bedroom. She tried to catch her breath, as she sat on the edge of the mattress, her palms smoothing over the cotton fabric encasing thick eiderdown. But it wasn’t easy to steady herself while she watched Drake peel his dark T-shirt up and over his head.
Baring the hard, carved muscles of a man in his prime, his body a map she couldn’t wait to explore. Behind him, the white walls and gray reclaimed wood floor faded, the man dominating everything else. Besides, she couldn’t think about how much work he’d put into this place. Her heart might dissolve in a puddle of tenderness she wasn’t ready to feel.
Instead, she tried to focus on the practicalities.