Haven Creek (15 page)

Pushing her hands into the pockets of her jeans, Morgan walked over to a large piece of reddish wood resting on a pair of sawhorses. “The wood smells wonderful.”

“It’s like an aphrodisiac,” Nate said as he moved next to her.

Her jaw dropped when she realized what she was staring at. It had to be one of the doors to the replica of the eighteenth-century French armoire Nate had mentioned. “May I touch it?” She couldn’t disguise the awe in her voice.

“Of course.”

The wood was cool under her fingertips. “How long did it take to bring out the patina?” she asked, rubbing her bare arms as the cool air raised goose bumps on her flesh.

“Are you cold, baby?”

It was the fourth time Nate had called her baby, and Morgan shrugged it off as a slip of the tongue. “A little.”

Wrapping his arms around Morgan’s waist, Nate pulled her back against his body. “This is my dad’s project. The client wanted cherrywood, so we knew the wood had to be padauk. It’s an exotic wood that’s bright orange when freshly cut, but later oxidizes to a darker, rich, purple-brown over time.”

Morgan tried not to react to the warmth of the hard body molded to hers, wondering if Nate was aware of what he was doing. “The grain is slightly wavy.” She had to say something, anything, in an attempt to ignore the pleasurable sensations coursing through her.

“It’s called interlocking, and that’s what makes it difficult to work with. The dust from this type of wood can pose a health risk to carpenters. It can cause respiratory problems, swelling of the eyelids, and itching if precautions aren’t taken beforehand.”

Looking over her shoulder, her gaze met and fused with Nate’s. “How would you know that if it’s first time you worked with it?”

“Before I work with unfamiliar wood I read everything I can about it. The Shaws have an unwritten rule that everyone must wear long sleeves, protective eyewear, and dust masks. We keep it cool here year-round to preserve the wood.” He dropped his arms. “Come with me next door. I can assure you it’s a lot warmer there.”

He was right. The barn was warmer than the workshop. The first floor consisted of an open space abutting a built-in shed. Nate said the shed would be used to store lumber. There were workstations fitted with grinders, sanders, chisels, vises, and clamps. An industrial vacuum sat in a corner among at least a half dozen sawhorses.

“How many windows did you install?” she asked, glancing upward.

“Seventeen in total. The plans came with or without horse stalls.”

“And you opted for the one without the stalls.”

“Not having the stalls gives us more work space. And even if I raised horses I couldn’t see myself sleeping under the same roof with them.”

Morgan scrunched up her nose. “Don’t like the smell of horseflesh and hay?” she said teasingly.

“Nope. Remember when the Creek had a lot of pig and chicken farms? Whenever the wind blew everyone had to close their windows.”

She shuddered noticeably. “Please don’t remind me. That’s when the smell of salt water was like an expensive perfume.”

“Come upstairs with me and I’ll show you the apartment.”

Nate opened a French-style door leading to a staircase and cedar balcony. Morgan was impressed with the design and layout of the building because of the separation of the barn and the residence. There was a set of French doors at the end of the balcony leading into an expansive living and dining space. Her mind was churning with ideas about how to decorate the area. Nate stopped in the middle of what would become the living room as she made her way into the kitchen. She’d counted nine windows, three spanning the width of the balcony and six running the length of the living room to the kitchen. Nothing excited her more than decorating a residence flooded with natural light.

The black-and-white kitchen, with its double stainless steel sinks, dishwashers, ovens, microwave, and an island with a cooktop and grill, was a chef’s dream. The pantry, utility closet, and laundry room were concealed behind louvered doors. She opened the sliding glass doors leading out to a deck with a cedar railing. The vistas were spectacular, offering an unobstructed view of the island and the steeples of the many churches dotting Charleston’s landscape. To the left of the deck was the staircase that led to the first floor.

Morgan continued exploring Nate’s apartment, opening the door to a bathroom with a shower, vanity, and commode, a smaller bedroom that could be used as a guest bedroom or home office, and a master bedroom with an adjoining full bathroom and a wall of walk-in closets. Selecting furnishings for the apartment was certain to become an interior decorator’s dream.

Leaning against the wall separating the living room from the master bedroom, Nate gave her a hopeful look. “What do you think?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it,” he repeated.

Her dimples winked at him. “Yes.”

Morgan wasn’t given time to react before Nate swung her up, holding her above his head as if she weighed no more than a small child. “Please, Nate! Put me down.”

His response to her desperate plea was to spin her around while singing the theme to
Rocky,
“Gonna Fly Now.”

“Now!” she screamed.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going to drop you.” He spun her around several more times, then slowly lowered her until her feet touched the floor at the same time he brushed his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss until her lips parted under his. When the kiss ended, he kissed her again, this time on the forehead.

Morgan was certain Nate could feel the runaway beating of her heart against his chest. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Pick you up or kiss you?”

“Both.”

“But I wanted to thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?” she asked.

“For agreeing to decorate my place.”

She shook her head. “Kisses fall into the benefits category.”

“Not to me. It’s a perk.”

“Perks and benefits are one and the same.”

“A benefit is payment or a subsidy, while a perk is an incentive, privilege, or even a freebie.”

Her lips twisted with a cynical smile. “You made that up.”

“No, I didn’t.” The warmth of Nate’s smile was reflected in his voice. “Anyone with a degree in business knows that.”

“Well, I happen not to have a business degree.”

“Well, I do,” he countered.

“You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“I’m not smug, baby. I just know I’m not going to be the one to break our friends-without-benefits agreement.”

“So what about that kiss?” She slapped his arm playfully.

“That doesn’t count.”

Morgan rested her hands at her hips. “Put up or shut up.”

Cupping his ear, Nate gave her a wide grin. “Oh,” he drawled facetiously. “Do I hear a challenge?”

“Bam!” she retorted, holding her hand in front of his face. “Yes, you do!”

Nate captured her wrist. “Why don’t you concede now?”

“You want me to give up?”

Staring deeply into her eyes, he nodded slowly. “Either you give up now or suffer the humiliation of defeat.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes as she looked up at the man she’d spent years fantasizing about; the man she’d wanted to introduce her to a world of sexual pleasure; the man who still had the power to make her heart beat fast. She wanted to beg him to make love to her the same way an addict pleads for a fix.

“What constitutes defeat?”

“The repeal of our agreement and…”

“And what, Nate?” she asked when his words stopped.

“We become friends
with
benefits.”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up from her throat. “It’s only been two days. Why are you changing your mind?”

Nate released her wrist. “There’s something about you that makes me crazy. You’re beautiful, intelligent, sexy, and you make me laugh. Going to the Happy Hour with you told me I could have a normal friendship with a woman. I’d only agreed not to sleep with you because that’s what you want.”

“I said that because I don’t want sex without dating.”

“Is that what you want, Mo? You want me to date you?”

She closed her eyes for several seconds. Why did he make it sound as if he was going to do her favor? “I can’t afford to get caught up and get so involved with you that I’ll lose focus on the restoration project.”

“That doesn’t have to happen.”

“Because you say so?” she asked. “I’ve waited a long time for something like this to come along, and having a sexual relationship with you will complicate things. Remember we have to work together, and if we break up we’ll still have to interact with each other. You know that will be uncomfortable.”

“Why are you putting up roadblocks even before you give me a chance to prove that I want to date you and only you? It’s not about sleeping with you as much as it is getting to know you better, to see where things could lead.” A wry smile twisted his mouth. “There will be no other women, I promise, Mo.”

A beat passed. Resting her hands over Nate’s heart, she leaned into him. “Okay, but it has to be on my terms. Which, by the way, are nonnegotiable.”

Staring at her under lowered lids, Nate said, “What are your terms?”

“
If
there comes a time when we do sleep together, you
must
use protection.” Francine’s baby prediction had become a permanent tattoo on Morgan’s brain. “And if we decide to end it there can’t be any histrionics.”

Nate successfully curbed the urge to laugh at Morgan. Since becoming sexually active, there wasn’t a time when he hadn’t used protection, except when he was with his wife. He also wasn’t opposed to an amicable split. “That’s easy. Is there anything else, boss lady?” He did laugh when she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he repeated. “All wrapped up with pretty paper and a bow.”

“I’d like to believe we’re being very adult about everything.”

“Adult or anal, Morgan?”

“Adult,” she insisted. “We live in the same town and will be working together on several projects, so I think it’s important we establish the ground rules beforehand.”

Nate saw Morgan in a whole new light. She exhibited a maturity usually not seen in a woman her age. Establishing the ground rules was something he and Kim had neglected to do, and in the end it was as if they couldn’t agree on anything.

“It is very important.” His arms went around her waist. “You’re quite the businesswoman—”

“Businessperson, Nate.”

He inclined his head. “I stand corrected.”

“I’ll forgive you this time, baby.”

Attractive lines spread out around Nate’s eyes when he smiled. “So now I’m your baby?”

“Don’t you play yourself, Nate. I should’ve called you on it the first time you called me baby.”

An expression of unadulterated innocence crossed his features. “I did?”

“Yes, you did, and you know it. Do you call every woman baby?”

“Nah,” he drawled, winking at her. “Just the ones I like.”

Morgan patted his stubble. “Enough talk about who likes who. I need you to think about how you want to decorate your house. Do you plan to paint the walls and ceilings? And what style of furniture, rugs, and artwork do you prefer?”

Nate studied Morgan, unable to believe she could go from talking about their sleeping together to furniture and knickknacks. But she had reminded him more than once of remaining focused. “I don’t know,” he said. “You make the selections and I’ll let you know if I like them.”

Pushing against his chest, she forced him to release her. “Okay. I need to know if you want it to look like a bachelor pad or if you would prefer a style that’s more family-oriented.”

He lifted his shoulders under his T-shirt. “Family sounds good.”

Morgan crossed her arms under her breasts, bringing Nate’s gaze to the soft swell of flesh rising above the neckline of her top. “Do you have a budget for what you want to spend?”

“No.”

“Not even an estimate?”

“Nope.”

She exhaled an audible breath. “You’re not making this easy for me.” A beat passed as they stared at each other. “Did you make any modifications to the blueprints?”

“Not structurally,” Nate replied. He’d built a half bath with a slop sink next to the shed and installed soundproofing throughout the entire first floor.

“I’ll need to see the prints to verify the dimensions. I’ve downloaded a design program and decorating catalogs on my computer, so all I have to do is click and drag the furnishings and accessories onto the floor plans. I should have several of them completed in a couple of weeks.”

Nate nodded. “I’d like to be in a bed by the end of the summer.” Right now he was sleeping on an air mattress, which he stored in the walk-in closet along with several changes of clothes.

“I’ll work up the bedroom first.” Morgan lowered her arms, glancing at her watch. “I’d better get home. I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow.”

“After I get you the blueprints, I’ll drive you home.”

As promised, Nate drove Morgan home. They stood together on the porch, his arm braced over her head as she leaned against the door frame. “When am I going to see you again?”

Morgan lowered her eyes, staring at his chest. “We
d
nesday. I’ll call you after I return from my bike ride and invite you over for breakfast. Which do you prefer? American or continental?”

He moved closer, her moist breath feathering over his throat. “Come on now, Mo. I’m Gullah. You shouldn’t have to ask me that.”

“American,” she said in singsong.

His large hands cradled her face, holding it gently as his head came down as if in slow motion. Nate’s lips brushed against Morgan’s. He continued to nibble at her lips as if she were freshly whipped sweet cream until the sound of scratching shattered the quiet. His head came up and he saw Rasputin with his front paws pressed on the window screen.

“Pardon the pun, but Rasputin is a Peeping Tom.”

Morgan giggled. “He knows I usually give him his snack around this time.” She kissed Nate’s chin. “Good night. I’ll call you,” she said over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

Nate stared at her retreating back. Despite his bad luck in the past, he looked forward to dating Morgan. He hoped this time would be different.