Breathe for Me (Be for Me 1)

He nodded, genuinely interested. With an almost shy smile she showed him some of the projects she’d been studying. Examples of temporary installations and structures in cities where some kind of catastrophe had occurred. Earthquakes, floods, storms.

“People do interesting things in the spaces left after destruction. It can lead to regeneration, growth,” she said. “And I think people have a need for something beautiful to see them through the interim, right? Before the rebuild really begins. Because that can take so long.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Maybe.”

“Better to grow some wildflowers than weeds,” she said softly.

“You could leave the land barren.” Why put something in if it was only for a short time?

She shook her head. “Nature will always fill a space. She’ll always reclaim what was once hers. So let’s work with her and make it nice in the meantime.”

That was Chelsea, he mused. She’d been—partly—destroyed. And now she was filling the space the way she wanted—with her work, her desire to live alone. And her call to be an independent, sexually satisfied woman without the need for a long term, intimate relationship. But nature—natural instinct—would reclaim the space eventually. This was only her transition phase. She’d want a family eventually, most people did.

Except not him. He was too damaged. Wild flowers couldn’t grow when the weeds were this thick.

“So.” He looked at the plans for her project. “You’re going sell pizza from a temporary takeout parlour made from basil plants.”

“That’s pretty much the deal, yeah.” She smiled at him.

“It seems a really big effort for something so temporary.” He looked at her bright eyed, beautiful face.

“Everything is only temporary.” She repinned one of her design pictures that was hung crooked. “Nothing lasts.”

“Some of our buildings have been around since the dinosaurs.”

“You exaggerate,” she half snorted. “And you know, most of these buildings won’t be standing in another thousand years. Temporary is the whole point.”

Xander frowned at the way that slipped so easily from her tongue. “You’re going to need some kind of security set-up.”

Now she frowned. “No I won’t.”

“What about the middle of the night?”

“New York never sleeps, right?”

“You’ll get people ripping off all your salad leaves. Or worse, some drunk idiot will decide to use the pots as a pee vessel.”

“Gross.”

“Exactly.”

“I can’t afford security for it.”

He grinned. “I can help you out there.”

Chelsea hesitated, trying to think of an answer, but amused by the direction of his thoughts. He came across so wholesome, totally looked the all-round good guy. A lifeguard of all things, and with his wicked arrogant humor, he was all sunshine and success. And yet there was this dark side. She’d noticed the way he religiously checked her door. Surreptitiously but reliably he assessed for danger, seeking the spaces where a thief, an intruder could enter, always glanced around at exits when entering places. Why was he always on the alert for something not being right?

“What, you don’t want to accept my help?” he prompted at her silence.

“No.” She shook her head. She didn’t want his help on this. “But thank you anyway.”

He didn’t look pleased. “If I was an anonymous donor to the institute, would you accept the help then?” he folded his arms across his chest.

“That would be different.”

“So it’s because you know me that you don’t want my help?” he asked, his voice dropping in volume but sharpening. “Is it because I’m sleeping with you?”

“I just don’t want this to become complicated.” She looked away from his piercing gaze.

Why was he here right now? Why had she felt that rush of pleasure at seeing him here—showing him?

Because his eyes had lit up as he turned and seen her. That tantalizing smile had twitched at the corners of his way too kissable mouth.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she had turned into a nympho. She thought about him too much—always about what they’d done the night before. It flashed into her mind now, and unable to resist, she looked at him again.

His smile reappeared the second she did, chasing away the somber look in his eyes. “There’s no time,” he muttered into her ear. “I have a meeting to get to.”

Her thoughts had been written all over her face? Burning with embarrassment, she glanced over Steve, but he was busy back in front of his computer screen.

“Why are you here—really?” She turned back to Xander.

“I wanted to tell you I’m not coming to see you tonight. I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll be away a few days.”

Chelsea’s stomach lurched. “Oh. Okay.” Disappointment slammed into her like a bus hitting a bug. She was going to miss him. Not just the sex. But him. She turned to walk him back to the elevator, trying not to panic at the deep emotion roiling inside.

“Well, safe travels then, huh?” She dragged out a smile.

His hand too-briefly clasped hers. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

She bit her lip to stop from asking when—to the second—that would be.

So much for not complicated.

Chapter Fourteen

She decided Xander’s absence was good. Training, right? It’d help keep things in perspective. Stop her getting too involved. Except she kept thinking about him. She struggled to get to sleep, her body wanted him while her mind whirred in circles. She wanted to talk to him—to joke and laugh.

When she did finally fall asleep the nightmares came. She suffered through the same one as always but a variant sometimes alternated. In the darkness she was searching, searching, desperately trying to find him—a faceless, tall, broad shadow.

She had to find him. To save him. To love him.

But she’d lost him. She was alone.

Three long, restless nights went by and she didn’t get nearly enough sleep in any of them. This was way worse than those few days after the first time they’d slept together when she was worried about seeing him again.

This was lonely. She faked her way through her phonecalls with her mom. She distracted herself by talking to Luisa about the pizza project. And she buried herself—almost liter

ally—in her work. On Saturday afternoon as she prepped the plants for the pop-up walls, there was a knock on her door.

She checked the peephole. It was both a dream come true and her worst nightmare. Why did he have to turn up looking so damn sexy when she was head to toe covered in dirt?

Just as he was about to knock again, she opened the door.

“How was your trip?” she asked, stepping into the doorway and trying to hide her smeared hands behind her back.

“Successful,” he grinned. “I enjoyed it.”

Had he? She swallowed.

“What’s going on in your head?” He angled his head, his gaze narrowing on her. One eye brow flickered. “Are you wondering what else I got up to?”

She hadn’t wanted to think about that at all. But in those small hours, when the night was darkest and she was in a cold sweat, then yeah—she’d been thinking all kinds of nasty.

“We probably should have established the rest of the boundaries, right?” She swallowed again. “For when you’re away.” She was determined to be mature. “How about ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’?”

Shock, followed by anger flashed on his face. “No. No one else. Not for me. Not for you.”

Relief flooded her system so violently her legs weakened. “Okay.” She leaned against the doorjamb, still blocking him from entering.

“Not okay.” He eyeballed her some more. “While I’m with you there is no other guy.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Was there?”

“No.” Of course not. The thought was sickening.

“No one. Understand?”

She nodded. He really didn’t need to emphasize it. She wasn’t the one most likely, whereas the total stud that he was? He’d have been fending them off in the hotel lobby.

His expression lightened fractionally. “You want to know how I spent my evenings?”

She nodded.

His voice dropped. “I spent every one alone in my room dreaming up new scenarios for you.”

She touched her tongue to her lips.

“Holding your breath again?” His chuckle warmed her cheek. “Baby, you’ve got to learn to breathe. In fact, you’ve got to learn to…”