Only in My Dreams (18 page)

“Probably more than people realize. I mean, everyone's senses are wonky from time to time. Some people can't stand certain fabrics or tags in their clothes. Other people walk on their toes or sway when they're standing still. We all do little things we aren't even aware of to process our environments. For me, those processes can get messed up or can cause me to slow down. Like I said, I'm pretty good at managing it now. It's been a long time since I've even talked about it to anyone.” Her shoulders hunched and she looked self-conscious again.

He considered touching her, but after their lusty tumble decided it wasn't a good idea. “I'm glad you shared it with me. Sounds like you overcame a lot.”

She shrugged. “I guess. I'm really lucky that my parents got me a lot of therapy when I was young. I know that helped.” He looked at her in confusion and she added, “Occupational therapy, some speech therapy, other stuff.”

“Your family really supports you.” He was sure his family would've done the same—wouldn't they?

“That's why I came back for this project and to be here for my mom. Part of the regulation is having people—or a person—who provides a sort of tether. My mom has always regulated me. She's kind of my own personal metronome, if that makes sense.” She edged forward. “I'm ready to keep going.”

He turned and continued along the tunnel. “You moved away from home, so at some point you managed to regulate yourself, right?”

“Yes, that's part of why I left Ribbon Ridge. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be independent.”

He glanced back at her in admiration. “You did that in spades, I'd say.”

“Thanks. And I guess I wanted to prove it to my family, too.”

He understood that. He'd spent his life proving to everyone that he didn't need his family, that he could be entirely self-sufficient. Damn, he hadn't ever thought of it in those terms before. “Your family is really important to you.”

“We drive each other crazy sometimes, but yeah, they're the most important thing. It's why this whole enterprise—Alex's dying wish, this project—is so critical, at least to me.”

The floor began to slope upward and he turned to say, “I think we're almost there.”

“Thank goodness.” Her voice was a mixture of relief and elation. She looked past him and pointed. “I see a door!”

He swung back around and rushed forward, flashing the light against the wood. This one was an actual door, unlike the slab of plywood they'd pushed open earlier. And it had a knob. He reached out and turned it, then frowned.

“Locked?” she asked. He nodded and she answered with a very construction-site-like curse.

“Never fear. I have tools.”

She came to stand beside him and took the light. “I'll hold this.” She flashed it at his belt and landed on the measuring tape. “Are you going to measure us through?”

“Very funny.” He pulled a small screwdriver out and slid it into the doorknob. He jimmied it around and found the release. He turned the knob and the door popped open. He gave her what he was sure was an arrogant look.

She rolled her eyes. “Nicely done.”

He pushed the door open. There was a wall directly opposite. He turned and looked for a light switch and then fell back as her body hurled against him.

She groaned into his neck, her warm breath tickling his flesh. “I can't believe I tripped again. I told you back at Sidewinders that I was clumsy.”

His spine hit the wall as her breasts crushed to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to steady her. “Yes, you did.” He hadn't meant to sound seductive or flirtatious, but when her eyes found his, he knew that's exactly how he'd come off.

He gripped her hips, but this time he let his fingers stray under the hem of her shirt.

Her palms came down to his shoulders.

The moment stretched and he screamed at himself to push her away, to end this before it became something they'd agreed to avoid.

But then her fingers curled into his neck and drew his head down. He was absolutely powerless to resist. He hauled her more tightly against him, pulling her up. She tipped her head back and her hard hat fell to the floor. He crushed his mouth over hers. He'd meant to be gentle, soft, reverent. But he couldn't. He wanted her. Needed her.

Her mouth opened beneath his and her tongue stroked against his lips, but only for a moment before he opened and met her thrusts. The desire he'd felt in the tunnel exploded inside of him, burning hot and fast. He dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her tight against him and wishing he'd taken his goddamned tool belt off. And his gloves. Then he'd take her shirt off. Then her bra. Was she wearing something lacy and sexy, or had she opted for something more utilitarian for today's work? He wanted to see her in everything. No, he wanted to see her in nothing at all.

Her fingers wound around his neck and tugged at the ends of his hair. She rotated her hips into him. Blood rushed to his cock. If he turned her, they could just . . .

With Herculean effort, he wrenched his mouth from hers. “Sorry.” He barely heard himself over the roar of blood in his ears and the thundering of his heart.

She eased back from him, her breath coming hard and fast. “Um, where are we?”

Inhaling deeply, he worked to calm his pulse. He took the flashlight from her and pointed it at the wall, finding a switch maybe three feet from the door. He flicked it, but there was no illumination forthcoming.

She bent and picked up her hat. He averted his gaze from the tempting curve of her ass and busied himself with shining the light down the corridor. With another deep breath, he started along it, his body cooling with each step.

The hall ended at a door, which opened into a small office. “We're in the monks' quarters. I was in here last week,” he said.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I didn't look behind every door, just checked it out. I assumed this was a closet, not a secret entrance.”

“It's pretty cool, isn't it?”

His gaze fell on her. Her eyes were alight, her blonde hair pale beneath the hot pink of her hard hat. She was so beautiful. And so off-limits.

She surveyed the office. “Should we look around some more, or did we solve the mystery?”

They'd been gone awhile and since Dylan was the boss, he supposed he should go back. More importantly, however, he needed to get away from her. Working closely together was bad enough, but traipsing around in darkened secret passages was inviting disaster. He regretted the excursion. And while he was regretting stuff, why the hell had he bought her special pink accessories? He'd gone into the home improvement store, seen a display of everything in hot pink, and immediately thought of her. They'd been too perfect
not
to buy, but he shouldn't have done it. He needed to insert some professional space,
pronto
. “Mystery solved. Let's get back.” In fact, they should avoid the dark passages altogether. “Come on, we'll go this way.” He strode from the office toward the main entrance.

At the front door, she grabbed his hand. Need coursed through him. He moved away from her before he could do something stupid.

She cringed. “Sorry. I mean, I shouldn't have kissed you. It was totally my fault.”

“No, it wasn't totally your fault, but we can't let it happen again. You're my boss . . . ”

“Agreed.” She looked at some point behind him, avoiding eye contact. “Besides that, the timing for me is terrible. I need to focus on this project and supporting my mom.”

Like any of this mattered. Even if she weren't his boss and her family weren't dealing with a tragedy, Dylan would be keeping his distance. That didn't, however, mean he wasn't wound tight with sexual frustration. Maybe
he
should try a wall pushup. Realistically, he needed a cold shower or an intimate meeting with his right hand. Better yet, he needed to get his game back—the sooner the better.

He opened the door and walked out into the sunshine, which was overly bright. He pulled his hat forward to shield his eyes.

She held her hand up to her forehead. “Yikes, sunglasses would be great right now.”

“This way.” He turned toward the dirt road that would take them back to the job site.

The silence between them grew into an awkward beast. He refused to battle it. They'd both agreed the kiss was wrong and that it couldn't happen again. End of story.

When the house came into sight, he quickened his pace. A few dozen yards away, the touch of her hand again drew him to stop. He swung around. “Sara, you have to stop touching me.”

Her eyes widened. She dropped her hand. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize.”

That her slightest touch drove him to distraction? That her scent, her laugh, her insanely soft, luscious lips made him crazy with want? He'd had enough. “You don't? We just talked about not kissing. That has to include touching too.”

She looked away, her cheeks growing pink. “Like I said, sometimes I touch people without thinking.”

Shit, because of her SPD, not because she wanted to jump him. He was a total asshole. “Sara, I'm just trying to find some boundaries here. I don't want things to be weird—and they're not.” The hell they weren't.

Her gaze narrowed and locked with his. “They
are
weird. Worse than weird. Yes, that kiss was a major mistake, and you can bet it won't happen again,” she snapped. “I thought we could be friends, but maybe that's too much to expect. Let's just keep this professional.”

“Yeah, let's.” He avoided looking at her chest, which was rising and falling quite rapidly with her irritation. The motion only made her breasts look even more tantalizing. He had to get a grip.
Real professional, Westcott
. “It might be best if you stayed away from the job site.”

She crossed her arms, which also accentuated her breasts.
Damn it
. “Kind of impossible when I'm overseeing the project.”

“You don't have to be here every day. I'll send daily updates if that will help.” Anything to get her off his turf.

She pulled on her arms, flexing her shoulders. More sensory input? “We have to find a way to make this work, or I don't see how I can recommend you for the other phases.”

He sucked in a breath. “Is that a threat?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, of course not. I'm just trying to be realistic.”

“You'd cost me a job—and more importantly, you'd cost my men jobs—because we had a one-night stand?” He'd been frustrated before, angry even. Now, he was furious. “That's hardly fair, particularly since you're the one who insisted it was one and done.”

Her eyes widened then settled into a glare that threatened to set his shirt on fire. “Life isn't fair. I don't owe you anything.”

“You're damned right you don't.” Hayden came up behind Dylan, startling him. Dylan turned, his heart slamming against his ribs as he wondered how much of their conversation Hayden had heard. Given the glower he was leveling at Dylan, he surmised it was far too much.

“W
HERE THE HELL
have you been?” Hayden's angry question was directed at Dylan, but his gaze strayed to Sara.

She hadn't even seen her brother approaching. She'd been too focused on Dylan and their argument. Even though she was pissed as hell at him right now, she couldn't stop thinking of the feel of his fingers digging into her hips or the ache that was still radiating from her core. But she had to stop thinking of it. This wasn't some lovers' spat. This was two people trying to disconnect themselves from a mistake. Something inside of her crumpled. She could relegate that night to a lot of categories, but mistake just wasn't one of them.

“We found an underground passageway to the monks' quarters,” Dylan said coolly. He checked his watch. “We were only gone about forty-five minutes.”

Hayden put his hands on his waist, his fingers dipping into the tops of the pockets of his jeans. “You were supposed to be in the basement. We couldn't find you. And you weren't answering your phone.”

Dylan pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned. “I didn't hear it.”

“There wasn't any service down there.” Sara might be angry with Dylan, but it was between them and had nothing to do with his job performance. She would never let their one-night stand—and its fallout—come between him and his career goals, regardless of what she'd said in the heat of the moment. “Did you even look for us in the basement? If you had, you would've seen the door leading to the tunnel.”

Hayden looked between them, confused. “Of course I went down there. What door?”

Dylan glanced over at her. “I think it closed behind us. Those kind of hinges don't like to stay open.”

And the way it blended in with the rest of the wall, it would be easy to miss. “Well, we're here now and everything's fine.” She gave Hayden an authoritative stare.

“You should've let someone know,” Hayden said, dropping his hands to his sides. “It's not cool for the contractor to disappear from his job site for such an extended period. And with one of his bosses.”

Dylan's eyes were icy as he surveyed Hayden. “It won't happen again.”

Just when Sara thought the situation had been defused, Hayden turned on Dylan and glared at him again. “What were you thinking letting Sara participate in demolition and dragging her on some subterranean excursion in the first place?”

Hayden's tone bit into Sara's nerves. She especially detested his talking about her like she wasn't there and as if she were a child. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to look at her. “I
wanted
to do the demolition. You heard me say so.”

“I didn't think you were serious.” Hayden's fierce gaze lightened slightly as it transferred to her. “It's dangerous.”

“Dylan brought me a hard hat.” She pointed to her head. “See?”