Pieces Of Us Page 11

  “It was good.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. For a second, her eyes flickered down to look at his jeans, before she resolutely pulled them back up. “We saw a couple of dolphins, they started following us around. And only half of the guests got seasick. How was your day?” he asked her.

  She reached up to rub her aching neck. “Long. I spent most of it pricing ideas for the charity event.” She realized she hadn’t told him about the wedding plan. “I had a couple of other ideas, too, for the longer term future of the pier. Maybe I could run them past you some time. See how you think they’ll go down with the tenants.”

  His eyes caught hers. “Any time.”

  “I guess I should get back to work,” she said, inclining her head at the door to her office.

  “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

  She looked up, surprised at his abrupt change of subject. “Nothing apart from a glass of wine and some pasta.”

  “Let me cook you dinner this time. Repay the favor.”

  “You’re inviting me to your place?”

  He shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

  “In that case, I’d be delighted to accept.” She couldn’t hide her huge grin. It felt like the sun had just gotten a little brighter.

  “Good.” He nodded. “Oh, and maybe you should bring a bag.”

  “A bag?” Her brows rose up.

  “To carry your pajamas and toothbrush in. I have shower gel, but you might want to bring your own. And you’ll probably need some clothes for tomorrow.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “Are you inviting me for a sleepover?”

  “I’m just thinking of all contingencies. I felt like an asshole leaving you last night. So if you want to stay, I’d be delighted to have you. And if you decide you don’t want to, you can always carry that bag back home with you. I’ll walk you back to make sure you’re safe.”

  A slow smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “You just want to have more sex with me.” She knew the feeling. Her thighs felt tight at the thought of him between them.

  He grinned back. “You got me.”

  “Okay then. Send me a message with your address and what time you want me.” She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes meeting his. “And my bag and I will see you there.”

  * * *

  “Hey, Griff!” Lorne called out as Griff walked along the boardwalk toward the Fresh ‘N’ Easy later that afternoon to buy some groceries. “How’s it going?”

  “Great.” Griff grinned. He was in the best of moods. That’s what an evening with a beautiful woman could do for you. “How are you?”

  “Ah, I’m getting old. I just had a group of teenagers in, messing around with my boards. Lost my temper and told them to get the hell out.” Lorne wrinkled his nose. “I swear I’m getting grumpier than ever.”

  Griff laughed. Lorne was the least grumpy guy he knew. Between the two of them, it was a close tie to who was the most laid back.

  “Hey, I saw that your folks were over this way the other week. They doing okay?” Lorne asked him.

  Griff blinked. “They haven’t visited for a couple of years.”

  “They haven’t?” Lorne frowned, running his palm over his scruff of a beard. “That’s strange. Maybe it was an old photo I saw.”

  “What photo?”

  “I’m friends with your mom on Facebook. She posted a photo of them in Silver City. But maybe it was from a while ago.”

  Silver City was just up the coast. His parents still had some friends there. Griff shrugged and pulled his phone out, bringing up his long-neglected Facebook account. Sure enough, there was the photo Lorne was telling him about. His parents posing with their friends, Gloria and Sam, in a restaurant they’d always loved.

  Good friends and good wine. Good times, his mom had captioned it.

  He could tell from his mom’s hair it was recent. She’d cut it all off a few months ago. It was one of the few photo messages she’d sent him.

  Lorne leaned over and looked at the screen. “An old one?”

  “Nah. I guess it was a flying visit.” Griff quickly closed the app and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “I gotta go. I need to pick up some food.”

  “Sure. Of course.” Lorne gave him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe they’ll visit again soon, hey?”

  “Maybe. Who knows?” Griff smiled back at him. “We’re all busy people around here.”

  “Tell me about it.” Lorne seemed glad of the change in conversation. “I’m dreading the season ramping up. As I said, I’m getting too old for this game.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Griff said, winking. “I’ll catch you later, my friend.”

  * * *

  “Dinner should be ready in a half hour.” Griff passed Autumn a glass of wine, and she walked over to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Pacific, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder as she took in the view.

  “Your apartment is beautiful,” she said, turning around to smile at him. “But the view is even better.”

  “Thanks. I kind of like it myself.” He grabbed his glass and walked over to join her, staring at the expanse of water. The dark blue waves were tipped with orange and pink from the setting sun. “It’s the first thing I look at in the morning, so I can determine how good or bad the conditions are for the boat trip that day.” He tipped his head to look down at her. “And surfing, of course.”

  “Have you always surfed?”

  “Ever since I can remember.” He ran his hand through his thick hair, pushing it away from his brow. “I was a young kid when I started. I’d go out with Lucas, Breck, and Jackson on Saturday mornings. Jack’s dad taught us. He was a pro when he was younger. Long retired now.”

  “Can you imagine yourself living away from the water?”

  He frowned. “No, not really. It’s part of me. Not just the location for my job or my leisure activity. It’s like my lungs or something. Essential for life.”

  She swallowed a mouthful of wine, then leaned against him, the top of her head touching the hard curve of his chest. “Sometimes you remind me of a water god,” she told him softly. “Neptune or Poseidon. I bet if you were cut open you’d bleed saltwater.”

  He laughed. “I’d prefer if you didn’t check out that theory.” He slid his arm around her shoulder, his rough fingertips feathering her bare shoulder. “God, I’m glad you came tonight. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  She smiled up at him. “I’ve been thinking about you, too. And the way you’ve made my muscles ache.”

  “Did I hurt you?” He frowned. He thought he’d been gentle. Being a big guy, he’d learned not to put his weight on a woman, to be careful unless she asked for it a little rougher.

  “No. I’m just a little out of practice. Used a few muscles I haven’t needed for a while.”

  The thought warmed him. “Maybe we both were.” He traced a line from her shoulder to her throat, then tangled his fingers into her soft hair.

  “Not you,” she whispered. “You’re at the peak of your game.”

  He leaned his head down, angling hers until they were a whisper away from each other. “I haven’t come like that in a long time,” he told her softly. “Maybe never. You do things to me, Autumn. Things I can’t stop thinking about.” He brushed his lips against hers, the simple contact sending a siren call to his groin. He’d been hard since he touched her skin, but now he was aching. She turned until she was facing him, her back to the window, her front pressed against his, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

  In her bare feet she was a foot shorter than him, and he had to bend his back and his neck to get the right angle. Sliding his hands down her sides, he lifted her against him, pressing her against the window pane to steady her, as she wrapped her thighs around his hips.

  “Sorry,” he murmured against her lips. “It’s just easier.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” she told him as their lips moved together. “It’s sexy as
hell to have a guy who can lift me.” She rolled her hips against him, the sensation making him harder than ever. He pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue plundering, his hands digging into her sweet behind. He turned to carry her to his room, where they’d have a little more privacy.

  The shrill bleep of the oven timer made him stop in his tracks. “Damn, it’s the pot pies.”

  “You made pies?” she grinned, her legs still wrapped around his waist. “Put me down right now and check them. I don’t want them to get burned.”

  “I’m the one who’s burning,” he muttered, releasing his hold on her as she slid down to the floor. He was still painfully hard and had to adjust himself before he walked over to the kitchen and washed his hands before turning off the timer. Then he opened the oven, watching as the steam escaped from the door, smelling the savory aroma of chicken and pastry.

  “It looks like it needs another ten minutes,” he called out.

  “Then come back here,” she said, grinning at him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do while we wait.”

  * * *

  “Where did you learn to cook pot pies?” Autumn asked, leaning her elbow on the mattress and propping her chin on her palm. The sheet was loosely gathered around her, and underneath it she was naked.

  They both were, thanks to the way they’d torn each others clothes off after dinner, leaving a trail of devastation from the living room into the bedroom.

  “Deenie taught me. I was the first of all our friends to have my own place. The day after I moved in she came over and insisted on showing me three things to cook. An omelet, chili, and chicken pot pie. She was afraid I’d starve to death otherwise.”

  “She taught you well.” Autumn rubbed her swollen stomach. “It was delicious.”

  He grinned. “Well thank you. I aim to please.”

  Yeah, he did, and her body was still tingling thanks to him.

  “You need to stop looking at me like that,” he told her softly. “Before I do something about it.”

  “What kind of thing?”

  “The kind of thing that will make your muscles ache even more than they already do. I don’t want you limping on the pier tomorrow.”

  She laughed, reaching out to thread her fingers through his thick hair. “I didn’t realize what a big ego you had.”

  “Is that what we’re calling it?” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her laugh all over again. “Okay, I’ll admit it, you’ve worn me out. Distract me, tell me about your plans for the pier.”

  He looked genuinely interested, and it warmed her. Maybe there was something to this friends with benefits thing after all. Yes, the sex was amazing, but so was eating together, and shooting the breeze. She was enjoying spending time with him.

  “I want to make the pier a location for weddings and other events like that.” She leaned in, resting her chin on her palm. “I spent this morning contacting people at the county and the insurance company, and this afternoon talking to suppliers who can help. The short story is, there’s nothing to stop me advertising the pier as a wedding location. I can start as soon as I want.” She pulled her lip between her teeth. “There are a few kinks to iron out, of course. Like access to your boat on wedding days, and for Delmonico’s patrons. But I think we can work that out.”

  His eyes were soft as they met hers. “I’m sure we can,” he said. “And I think it’s an amazing idea.”

  Her face lit up. “You do?”

  “Yeah. It’s the perfect location. Right now, the only places you can get married are either at the Beach Club or the resort. Or the sand itself if you get the right license. The pier would be beautiful, especially as the sun goes down. It’s at its most picturesque then.”

  “I thought you might object,” she told him. “Not everybody likes change.”

  “I’m a business owner,” he pointed out. “I know how important it is to get the most out of your assets.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Delmonico’s, too,” she told him. “I could either create a separate entrance for their restaurant, or they could be part of the package. The restaurant would be perfect for the reception afterward.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “The boat would make an amazing location for a rehearsal dinner, too,” she mused, tracing the swell of his bicep with her finger. “If you ever wanted to do dinner cruises.”

  He laughed. “Are we back on that?”

  “It’s just a suggestion.”

  “It’s a good one, actually. Let me think about it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now come here,” he said gruffly. “You have some more assets I’d like to exploit.”

  “What happened to me getting sore and you being tired?” She tipped her head to the side, amused and turned on by the heat in his eyes.

  “I figure I’ll go easy on you this time,” he said, pulling her toward him until she was straddling his lap. “Or maybe you’ll go gentle with me.”

  She leaned forward to capture his lips with her own. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  14

  “If you keep cooking for me like this, I’m going to think you’ve got an ulterior motive.” Autumn leaned on the kitchen counter, watching Griff crack an egg into the pan, then move it around with a spatula. Ham was sizzling beneath the other burner, the smell making her mouth water. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was wearing a pair of soft jersey jogging pants and nothing else. The waistband was low on his hips, revealing the sweet ridges of his six pack and that ‘v’ she traced with her fingers last night.

  “I think we both need some food after last night.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “And we have a long day of work ahead of us. I figure we should start the day right.”

  “I usually just grab an apple or banana, then buy a coffee from Déjà Brew.”

  “You need to eat protein, too,” he told her. “That’s what’ll stop you from feeling hungry before lunch.”

  “Is that right?” She grinned at him. “In that case, I’ll have to come here for breakfast every morning.”

  He winked. “Works for me.” Grabbing two plates from the cupboard next to the stove, he slid the eggs onto them, followed by grilled ham and tomatoes, plus the bread he’d toasted and buttered. She followed him over to the table, still smiling when he put the plate in front of her.

  “I think you’re the first guy that’s ever cooked for me.”

  Griff’s brows knitted together. “I thought you were divorced.”

  “I am.”

  “And your ex never cooked?”

  She shook her head. “He was very skilled at picking up take out, though.”

  “How about you? Did you cook a lot when you were in New York?”

  “Not really. We were both working crazy hours building up the business. A lot of our meetings took place over dinner.”

  He speared a piece of ham with his fork. “Do you miss New York?”

  “Not yet.” She shrugged, biting into the crisp toast. “Maybe I will in a few weeks, but right now I’m liking it here.”

  “I’m liking that you like it here.” His eyes caught hers.

  A flash of warmth washed through her. “What time are you taking the boat out today?”

  “I’m not. Today’s an admin day.” He lifted his coffee cup. “Usually I hate them, but it’s starting out pretty good.”

  “I love admin.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  She laughed at his outraged expression. “It’s true. I like being organized. I get a thrill when I tick something off my to-do-list.”

  “Maybe you can do mine. I’ll go surfing instead.” He winked at her.

  “I could help. What do you need to do?”

  He tipped his head to the side, looking at her through thick lashes. “It’s boring stuff. I need to get some numbers together to refinance the boat. I need to raise a bit of cash to make some repairs.”

  “Oh, I love numbers.” Her eyes lit up. �
��And spreadsheets. Do you have spreadsheets?”

  He laughed at the excited expression on her face. “Yeah. Really big ones. But it’s okay, I can do it this morning. Then I’ll treat myself with a surf this afternoon.”

  “Maybe I’ll come and watch you do that instead. You look hot in board shorts.”

  “You should come with me. I’ll teach you.”

  “To surf?” Her eyes widened. “Oh no. You don’t want to see that.”

  “Yeah I really do.” He leaned across to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I want to see you on a board. Come on, I’ll make it fun. I promise.”

  “I’ve never surfed.”

  “I’m a patient teacher.” His smile widened. “And we both know you’re strong enough. I’ve seen the muscles in your legs. I’ll even let you play with my numbers if you’d like.”

  She laughed and shook her head, watching as his eyes danced with amusement. “Okay, but I’ve got the feeling you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

  “It’s a win-win.” He sipped his coffee. “Come on, let’s get some work done, then I’ll meet you at the beach.”

  * * *

  He swallowed hard as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, then unbuttoned her cut-offs and climbed out of them, and tried really hard not to ogle her. Autumn Paxton could rock a swimsuit better than any woman he’d seen.

  He was fighting a losing battle.

  Taking a long, deep breath, he told his body to behave itself. He was thirty-one-years-old, long past the age when it was acceptable to get a hard-on at the beach.

  She pulled her hair back, fixing it into a messy bun with a brown hair tie, then inclined her head to look up at him. “I don’t have a wetsuit,” she said, glancing down at her blue swimsuit, cut high at the hips and low at the back. “Is this okay?”

  This time he wasn’t going to look. “Try this top, courtesy of Lorne’s surf shop.” He passed her a waterproof, long sleeved surf top, with a zipper from the neck to the mid section. “I think the guy might have a little crush on you. When I told him I needed surf gear for you, he offered it up.” He grinned and looked out at the sparkling blue ocean. “The water’s not too cold at this time of day, and we won’t be hitting the strong waves, but you don’t want to hurt your chest when it’s against the board.” He pulled his own surf top on over his head, tugging at the hem until it reached his long board shorts. “We’ll be starting your lesson on the beach, anyway.”