In a Moon Smile (27 page)

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Feeling shaky and stunned, she tried to calm down. “I guess I'm just tired.”

Though he looked at her for a confused moment, Dalton dropped the interrogation. “Do you mind driving my truck back to Chesney Ridge?” he asked. “I'll drive the tractor.”

She nodded and walked numbly to the driver side of Dalton’s truck. She opened the door and plopped Blossom on the seat next to her. Dalton climbed on the tractor, waved with a smile and drove slowly toward the two-lane road, en route to Chesney Ridge. What about those blue eyes? Why did she feel that Dalton was keeping some kind of secret from her? What was going on?

Even though her efforts were initially serious, Chesney no longer obsessed as often about keeping the handyman at a safe distance. Those walls she tried so hard to keep intact had grown jagged. The truth was that Dalton Moore had become her friend. They laughed often. They shared funny stories from childhood. She could depend on him and trust him.

Oh my God, I could also love this man with everything I am. But the man curse keeps my heart in check. I would never risk our friendship to try at love. I already know I would fail.

So Chesney focused on the positives, and there were many. She enjoyed the warmth they now showed one another. He counted on her to start the coffee every morning before he arrived. And she counted on Dalton to show up with still-warm pastries from Cathy’s Café along with the morning newspaper. Their mornings began in the happy new kitchen, skimming the headlines and discussing world events between jokes. By noon, Chesney made salads and cold cuts to share for lunch. As autumn began to cool the afternoons, they sometimes lunched outside under a shade tree.

He felt like a good friend. He felt like the kind of guy Chesney could call in the middle of the night if the water heater blew up. These traits were important to her, not just because Dalton had become so important in her life but also because she didn’t feel as alone. She didn’t want to, but many times every day and every evening too, Chesney caught herself thinking about how Dalton’s rough, calloused hands might feel on her body. She wondered what his warm breath would be like against her neck. She certainly had no business wishing that Dalton would make wild love to her on the sun-drenched dock by the pond. And she obviously should stop thinking about sharing a morning shower with the handyman. But the truth of the matter was that Chesney was downright overcome with lust. Never in her life had she been so completely consumed with want. Her skin actually ached to be touched and kissed, not just by any man, it was this man.

Every time Chesney fought off those damn daydreams, however, another one popped into her head. Nine times out of ten, the new love scene was steamier than the last, steamy enough to make her blush. Chesney had a sneaky suspicion that her horribly neglected body was exactly the reason she was more nervous, awkward and downright dangerous. She was a walking accident and she guessed it was all related to the fact that she was totally preoccupied with thoughts of wild monkey sex with Mr. Moore.

“Damn it to hell,” Chesney yelled at the top of her lungs when she accidentally stepped barefoot into a glob of paint. Sage green oozed between her toes as she puffed out her cheeks, feeling the need for a blood-curdling primal scream. When she leaned against the wall to wipe the paint off her foot, Chesney somehow scratched her side on an exposed nail near the stairway.

What in the hell is wrong with me? For heaven’s sake, I need to start wearing a helmet and a bubble suit.

“What’s the problem?” Suddenly Dalton’s handsome face peeked around the corner. He surveyed the scene, choked back a belly laugh and managed to ask with a straight face if his employer was injured.

“I thought you were working on the roof,” Chesney mumbled as she bent over to swipe at her green painted foot.

“Before I climb up on the roof I wanted to see how the library shelves look since I sanded them yesterday,” Dalton made his way across the room and Chesney watched as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans for a rag. Then he moved close and gently took her foot into his hand. As he wiped at the paint, Chesney rested her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance.

Oh my God I love to stare at the back of his lovely tanned neck.

“
That was a new one,” Dalton said softly as he dabbed at the bottom of her foot.

“What are you talking about?” Inside, Chesney tried to ignore the chills that now raced through her body. As stupid as it sounded, watching Dalton wipe paint off her foot had become extremely erotic. She nearly moaned, for heaven’s sake, when he swiped at the smooth spot around her ankle.

“Damn it to hell,” Dalton looked up at her and grinned. “Never heard anyone shout that before.”

“Maybe I invented it,” Chesney said with a shrug. “Feel free to use it if you like.”

Once the paint was wiped off, Dalton stood and made eye contact with his clumsy boss. He turned her to the side and gently lifted Chesney’s shirt to inspect the scratch.

A surge of fire rumbled around in her stomach as Chesney stood perfectly still, watching Dalton inspect the nasty, jagged abrasion which was now bleeding. She had never wanted a man ever before like she wanted this man. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to snap out of this sexual trance.

Don’t tremble. Don’t. Do. It. Keep breathing. You stabbed yourself on a nail. That’s all. This is not sexual. Nothing about this moment is sexual.

“That’s pretty nasty looking,” Dalton’s voice interrupted Chesney’s intimate moment. “It’s also bleeding a little bit, Chez. Do you remember when you last had a tetanus shot?”

Are you kidding me? With your hands on my skin, Dalton, I can’t even remember my name!

His fingertips very lightly traced her side and she involuntarily shivered.

Get it together, virgin chick. Breathe.

“Remind me to look in my truck for some antiseptic cream,” Dalton said in a near whisper. “I’m sure I have some in the first-aid kit.”

Chesney hated the thought but she absolutely had to get away from this man’s touch. She was trembling inside. If she couldn’t get control of herself, she would have to fake a seizure or something just to prevent Dalton Moore from knowing how lusty she felt.

“Okay, well, I will try to remember that,” Chesney yanked her shirt down and moved away from Dalton. But not before he traced the edge of the cut as it crossed the bottom of her rib cage. And saw her shiver.

Oh, damn it to hell.

Dalton smiled wickedly and she pretended not to notice.

“Okay, well,” Chesney cleared her throat and nervously backed away. “Back to work then, right? We’ve got lots to do. Yep. We sure do...so…umm…no more accidents for the rest of the day. ”

Shut the hell up, motor mouth! Thank goodness your deserted vagina can’t blab, too. You would look like an even bigger fool! Stop talking. Zip those lips, chick.

Thankfully, a surprise call from Becca took Chesney’s mind off the heat of Dalton’s hands. She had to work more diligently to switch off the pornographic video now playing in her head. Starring Dalton and herself of course, the movie in Chesney’s mind was a vivid High Definition flick filled with lots of coitus in lots of weird places.

To chase the porn away, Chesney snatched at the phone. She also pretended not to notice that Dalton had removed his shirt before climbing the ladder to access the roof. “Thank goodness you’re calling, Bec,” Chesney sighed.

“Is everything okay?” Becca asked quickly. “You sound a little bit breathless or hurried.”

Don’t worry, Bec. I am panting a little bit because in my sick and twisted head, I have had sex all day with the handyman.

“Everything is great,” Chesney gushed. “But I definitely need a break. I’ve had a difficult morning.”

Though I have stepped in paint and stabbed myself with a rusty nail, the drama has not been enough to divert my attention from my sexually challenged vagina. If you really must know, Becca, my mind has taken up residence in the ghetto of kinkiness. I have happily skipped the cutesy love-me-darling stuff and moved immediately to hair puller intercourse with a couple of good spankings thrown in for good measure!

Chesney propped the phone between her ear and shoulder while she walked into the kitchen to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea. “So tell me all your news, Bec,” she sighed. “I miss you so much. And oh, did I tell you I have a puppy? She’s adorable. By the way, I also have some furniture.”

“Slow down,” Becca laughed. “You’re talking about twenty things at once!”

“Okay so let’s start over,” Chesney laughed. “Tell me first how you’re doing.”

“Well I have a surprise for you,” Becca said. “I flew into Indianapolis, rented a car and I'm actually ten minutes away from your paint-chipped front door at Chesney Ridge.”

“Are you kidding?” Chesney squealed happily.

“I'll be right there,” Becca said and the phone went dead.

Rushing through the house, Chesney straightened pillows and rugs. She lit a couple of candles to offset the fresh paint smell. Earlier this morning, she finished painting the trim in the hallway so that meant that most of the downstairs was completely redone. Even the windows had been replaced and polished. Becca’s bedroom was now completely decorated with buttery yellow walls and an amazing work of wrought iron art to serve as the bed frame. Chesney wanted Becca to fall in love with the tranquility and charm.

She dabbed on some mascara and a tiny slick of gloss across her lips before stepping outside to climb the ladder. Once she reached the shingles, Chesney blinked hard, admiring Dalton’s gorgeous, shirtless chest. As he worked in the hot sun, perspiration glistened on his taut stomach and muscular arms. A beat-up old radio blasted hits from the 80s, so Dalton could not hear Chesney calling his name. That meant she could grab a few more moments of good old fashioned voyeurism before Dalton finally noticed her standing on the ladder. Now that she actually had a legitimate excuse, sort of, to be here at the top of the ladder, where she could stare at Dalton’s chest, Chesney felt panic rising fast.

What in the world did I want to say to Dalton? Definitely not that I am willing right this moment to get shingle burns all over my butt if he wants to ravage me right there beside the chimney. It’s definitely not that I want to be the mother of his children. Maybe I should say that he happens to have the most amazing chest I have ever seen in my life. If the stars would align perfectly so I could get a close-up shot of my handyman’s body while he bends over in those tight jeans, I would then be ready to go to heaven. Oh, shit. Oh, Shit. Why in the hell did I climb this damn ladder?

Just as Dalton discovered Chesney’s presence, he and his employer both heard the loud honking. Instantly, Chesney recalled that her actual purpose was to relay news not to simply lust after the handyman’s body.

“My friend…” she stuttered in Dalton’s reaction. “My best friend is here. I just..I wanted you to know. I wanted you to meet her, okay?”

“Will I be in your way if I stay here, to finish the roof?” Dalton asked.

“Of course not,” Chesney said, hoping he didn't notice her stare. “Becca is my dearest friend in the world. I would love for you to meet her.”

She thought Dalton nodded, but she wasn’t certain since she was temporarily blinded by the sweat glistening now on his muscular stomach in those low slung jeans. By the time Becca parked the rental car, Chesney had forced herself to snap out of her sexual trance and scramble back to the ground. She bounced up and down beside the driver’s door.

“I can't believe you're really here,” she cried as they hugged. “I've missed you so much.”

“Well I had a break in my schedule and...” Becca’s eyes traveled upward, in the direction of the roof, more significantly in the direction of Dalton Moore's breath taking back. Her eyes followed his body as Dalton walked across the new shingles toward the ladder. Then Becca looked at Chesney, dumbfounded. “Good lord, who is that gorgeous man?”

“He's my handyman,” Chesney said with a giggle.

With that shy, half grin and those azure eyes, Dalton Moore was any woman's dream. 

“I'll bet he is quite handy,” Becca said with a sly smile. She tossed her bag on the hood of the car and walked toward the ladder. When Dalton saw her headed his way, he struggled to get his shirt on. “Don't wear clothing just because I'm here,” Becca said flirtatiously. Dalton stayed on the roof but neared the ladder while Becca climbed the metal rungs in spike heels. When Dalton leaned toward her, she stuck out her hand, smiling. “I'm Becca Bartlett, Chesney’s best friend in the world.”

From the driveway, Chesney watched the introduction.

Great, before the sun goes down, Becca will have Dalton in her clutches. She’s got a wicked effect on men. And I'll never have a chance to confess my secret love. Not that I would ever be brave enough to say anything to Dalton anyway. But I don't want Becca to have him, either.

Chesney’s face was hot with jealousy as she watched Becca step off the ladder with Dalton close behind. Once they were both on the ground, they struck up an easy conversation about the early September weather in Southern Indiana. While they flirted, Chesney carried in Becca’s luggage just like any loyal Cinderella would.

Tall and thin and impeccably dressed, Becca was the beauty queen. Chesney looked down at her own attire, paint-stained T-shirt and cut-offs. Her legs weren’t only hairy; they were bruised and scratched from working like a dog. Next to Becca’s lovely, long legs, Chesney’s legs might as well be stubby little tree stumps. Becca’s hair was shiny and straight, hanging in perfect thick strands around her shoulders. But Chesney’s hair spent most of its life in a tight ponytail, tucked under a baseball cap. Becca also possessed a rather uncanny ability to waltz through the front yard weeds like royalty.