She stood and leaned forward over the table. “You’re so good at giving orders. Well, so am I. You clean the kitchen while I get out the paint and brushes.”
“Where did Uncle Woody keep his paintbrushes?”
“In the workshop at the back of the garage.”
“I think I’ll go with you to get them and then I’ll clean the kitchen.”
“Tom—”
“We’ve been over this. You don’t know how angry Maverick is. Besides, you’ll enjoy my company.”
“Too bad you don’t have more confidence.”
He walked around the table as they both carried their dishes to the sink.
“You win,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s both clean the kitchen and then we’ll both go get the paint and brushes.”
He worked fast, glancing at her. He had been teasing, but what he’d said to her was the truth. He had been dealing with guys who worked for him, cattle, horses, dusty fields and new calves. To work with her dressed in shorts and a cotton shirt was dazzling, and it was going to be difficult to keep his mind on anything else. Emily was good-looking, and it seemed to him she had gotten more so in the past year. He turned to watch her.
He thought about their kiss yesterday and just as quickly knew that was the way to disaster. He needed to think about getting the house safe. He needed to think about anything except kissing or making love to her. He turned again to look at her, taking his time because her back was still to him. She couldn’t reach a shelf to put a bowl away. He crossed the room, took the bowl from her and placed it on the shelf, turning to her.
“Thank you,” she said. Her words came out breathless and he knew he should walk away quickly.
He stopped at the door. “Ready to go get paint?”
“Sure. I think we better get to work,” she said, heading for the kitchen door. He crossed the room to follow her out. They were kidding and flirting—something that hadn’t happened in an incredibly long time, since before he moved out.
Did she want to make love? The thought made the temperature in the room rev up several notches. Did he want the emotional storm again? Looking at her legs and thinking about yesterday’s kiss, he realized he did. If he had a chance, he’d take it even if it meant hurting later when they said goodbye. And he knew they would say goodbye no matter what they did during this time while Maverick was on the loose. Their problems were unsolvable and permanent. They had lost their son, and Emily could not get pregnant again and would not adopt because she had wanted a child exactly like Ryan, with their blood in his or her veins. And she blamed him for Ryan’s death. Tom knew he had failed her, failed Ryan, and there was never a day that passed that he didn’t think about it.
None of that could stop this lusty desire to seduce her, though.
Tom held the door for her and they walked to the garage, which was dark and stuffy. Tom took one look at the ladder and shook his head. “No way.”
“Here we go again. Are you going to tell me I can’t use that ladder?”
“I sure as hell am.” He stepped on the bottom rung and put all his weight on it. It snapped in two and he dropped to the ground.
“Want to fall today? I’ll be glad to catch you. Go ahead and try.”
She shook her head. “Okay. You made your point—a new ladder.”
He looked around. “Em, you need new paint, new brushes and a new ladder. When was the last time you or your uncle used this stuff?”
“Probably when I was seventeen. I don’t remember.” She laughed again. “You win that one. Let’s go.”
He placed his hand on her waist and she stopped instantly, looking up at him. “This reminds me of when we dated. I remember being out here once with you.”
She blushed again. “I think we better go.”
“Want to know how to make work a little bit fun? Do you remember being here with me?”
“Yes, I remember every single second. You know full well what you can do to me,” she answered and this time she was breathless. They might both have regrets, but right now he thought she wanted to kiss as much as he did. Sliding his arm around her waist, he leaned down to kiss her.
The minute his mouth touched hers, he lost the casual, playful attitude he’d had. His tongue went deep as she stood on tiptoe, wound her arms around his neck and pressed against him. She kissed him in return, setting him on fire with longing. He might be sorry tomorrow, but right now, he wanted to kiss her for the rest of the day and the night.
He wound his fingers in her thick, soft hair and ran his other hand down over her enticing bottom. He could easily get his fingers inside her tiny shorts. She gasped and moaned with pleasure, thrusting her hips against him. He wanted her and he was hot, on fire, melting from her kisses and from touching her intimately.
She finally stepped out of his arms and gasped for breath. “We’re going to have regrets,” she said and turned, walking