Command Performance
“Stay,” he said. “Spend the night with me.”
“We’re flying to Tennessee tomorrow. I need to get ready.”
“You’ll have time in the morning.” He’d never begged a woman to stay the night. Not that he was down on his hands and knees now, but he felt damn close. He should be grateful she wanted to leave. Spending the night together inched the business-by-day/sex-by-night thing they had going straight into relationship territory.
“Hunter, it’s not a good idea,” she said softly.
His fingers ran down her throat until he found her collarbone. “I know, honey. We’re not a good idea. I’m a long way from being ready for commitment and you need stability in your life more than anyone I’ve ever met. But there’s one place where we work, where I’m just what you need, and that’s right here in this bed. Stay with me, Maggie.”
“I can’t.” She reached up and caught his hand in hers. Slowly, she pushed it away as she sat up. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay here.”
Hunter watched her pick up her dress, pull it on and walk away. Maybe she was right. Spending the night would lead to feelings he couldn’t afford.
15
FOR THE SECOND DAY in a row, Maggie woke up before her alarm clock. Only today, a loud banging forced her eyes open. It sounded as if Hunter had decided to use a mallet on her bedroom door. Maggie pushed back the covers and found her slippers.
“I’m coming.” She shuffled across her room and opened the door expecting to find Hunter holding a hammer and a cup of coffee on the other side. Instead, she found an empty hall.
“Hunter?”
The hammering started again. Now that she was awake, she realized the sound was coming from outside. Maggie headed down the stairs to the kitchen. First stop, caffeine, and then she would find the source of the sound that had driven her out of bed at—she glanced at her watch—seven in the morning.
The welcome smell of French roast greeted her as she pushed through the swinging door. Hunter must be awake. But if he was up, why hadn’t he put a stop to the horrible banging noises? Maggie filled the mug set out beside the coffeemaker and headed for the side door leading to the yard. There was only one explanation.
She found Hunter on a ladder, hammer in hand, beating a piece of metal fifteen or so feet from her bedroom windows. He wore a pair of ripped jeans and a gray T-shirt that clung to his sweaty body. Even two stories down on the ground, she could see his biceps bulge as he swung the hammer. Her pulse raced at the sight, remembering what that body had done to her last night.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Good morning.” He set down the hammer and smiled at her. “I was up early so I thought I’d fix your gutters. They were overflowing the other night. After the storm.” He began climbing down the ladder. “At first, I thought they needed to be cleaned, but when I got up here I saw they were bent out of shape. I think a tree branch might have hit them.”
Maggie frowned. She’d gone to bed unsettled last night. It wasn’t the sex, but the way he’d asked her to stay. Spending the night with a man she was head over heels in lust with felt dangerous—not physically, but emotionally. She’d comforted herself with the fact that he knew he was wrong for her. But now, as she watched him repair her home, the unsettled feeling returned
.
“I have someone who is paid to maintain those,” she said.
“You should fire him. He’s doing a shitty job if he let them get to this point. You really should replace them. If I had more time here, I’d offer to do it. Though I’ve got them mostly fixed, now.”
Maggie sipped her coffee, forcing her fingers to remain still. He was doing her a favor. She should be thanking him. But she couldn’t find the words. This was her house. She’d been taking care of it for nearly two decades.
“What time were you up?” she asked.
He shrugged as he stepped off the ladder. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I started up here around five-thirty or six.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
Hunter cocked his head to one side and studied her. “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said, looking down at her mug. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I do. I am simply accustomed to taking care of the house on my own. Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t mean you need to fix my gutters.”
Hunter shook his head. “Whether you like it or not, we’re more than two people who work together and have sex. We’re friends, Maggie. Or at least I thought we were.” He turned and started to walk away.
“Hunter,” Maggie called after him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going for a run. I need to get some exercise before we leave for the airport. I’ll put the ladder away when I get back, if that’s all right with you.”
Maggie nodded and watched him walk away. She should have hidden her unease, said a quick thank you and walked away. It wasn’t his fault she needed to control every little part of her life. She was learning to let go in bed with him, but when it came to the rest of her life? Maybe one day, but not yet.