Forever Home Read online

  Izzy shifted. Every minute it took to tie up was another minute Tariq was plotting a way to steal her client. Her livelihood. Her muscles tightened.

  Brad brushed his lips against the side of her forehead. “We’ll be first off the boat and I’ll drive home with a lead foot. You’ll be back at work in no time. For these last five minutes, can’t you just relax?”

  She tried. Resting her head back on his shoulder, she let the sounds of tree frogs and cicadas and the boat’s engine thrum through her body. Brad’s chest was warm against her back, his arms strong around her. He truly made a most excellent pillow. But when the gangplank was lowered, she pushed away from the security of his embrace and trotted off the boat to his truck.

  He was a man of his word and made the thirty-minute drive in just over twenty. He cut the engine, and she stared up at her porch lights, her stomach tied in knots.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I tried. I really did. But I don’t think I’m date material right now. I have too much going on.” Too much work. Too many secrets. Too much baggage. She swallowed hard. “You’re a good guy, Brad, and you deserve someone who can give you more time.” And honesty.

  He turned in his seat and stared at her. “Wait a minute. One date is cut short and you think that’s reason enough to give me the brush-off?” Only the bottom half of his face was illuminated, the rest in shadow, but it was that bottom half that told the story. His lips stretched wide, and he tossed his head back and laughed. “Izzy Lopez, when are you going to learn that just because something didn’t go as planned, that doesn’t mean it isn’t working.” Brushing his fingers through the hair above her ear, he leaned toward her. “Or that it’s not worth it. The more I learn about you, the more I know you’re worth it. Coming home early was just a hiccup, not a cardiac arrest for our relationship.”

  “We have a relationship?” Her gaze darted from his shadowed eyes to his full lips and back again. His thigh pressed into hers, and he trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, causing goose bumps to rise in their wake. This wasn’t a relationship. Only a bit of harmless flirting. She didn’t do relationships. She—

  Brad lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Digging his fingers into her hair, he angled her head, took the kiss deeper. Izzy’s eyelids slid shut as the hair at her nape stood on end. He rolled his tongue against hers, the motion languid, playful.

  Someone moaned. It might have been her.

  Cupping her under her knee, Brad tugged, pulling her up and over his legs into a straddle over his hard thighs, keeping their lips connected. Having his hips between her knees, his chest against hers, felt all kinds of right. He dragged his hand up her thigh and dug his fingers into her ass, hard enough that it might leave a mark, and that felt even better.

  Izzy scooted closer, the center seam of her jeans rubbing against the firm bulge behind his slacks. This was stupid. Reckless. But he felt so damn good. She rocked her hips, generating some heat with the friction.

  Brad growled. With his one hand planted firmly on her butt, he gripped the base of her skull with the other. He nibbled along her bottom lip, and when he reached the fullest part, bit down and tugged.

  She gasped and rolled her hips. The bulge behind his pants was hitting all the right spots. Her heartbeat raced. She ground her pelvis in tight circles, taking what she needed. It had been so long since she’d been this close to a man. And he felt so big and hard—

  Her muscles locked, her back arched and the horn sounded as a cry escaped her lips. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder, trying to catch her breath as the tremors drifted away.

  Oh. My. God. She didn’t want to move. Moving meant raising her head, and raising her head meant looking at Brad.

  “Jesus, did you—”

  “My big butt hit the horn. That’s all.” Cheeks burning, she tried to untangle their limbs.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  She knew what he was talking about, and that was something they would not be talking about. By her estimate it had taken two minutes. Two minutes to get off just rubbing against Brad. Her pulse pounded and she looked anywhere but at his face. It hadn’t been a strong orgasm, more a slow-rolling wave than the surf-crashing-on-the-shore kind. But jeesh. Only nuns and nymphos would come that fast. What the hell must he be thinking?

  Wrapping her fingers around his wrist, she tugged his hand off her butt. “I’ve gotta go. Lot of work to do.” And a pillow to bury her head under.

  “You did.” His voice was a mix of surprise and satisfaction, with a sprinkling of amusement thrown in for good measure.

  The heat in her cheeks spread to her neck and ears. “I don’t know what you mean, but I have to go.” Pushing open his door, she tried to climb off him and get out.

  Her ass set off the horn again.

  Brad threw his head back and laughed.

  Izzy pressed her lips together. Glad to know he found her so goddamn amusing. She grabbed the top of the door and the frame above her head and heaved herself off his lap, stumbling to the ground.

  Still chuckling, he grabbed her arm and held her steady.

  Izzy glared. She leaned over his lap and snatched her purse from the passenger seat.

  Brad’s hand on her hip stopped her from stomping off. “Don’t leave mad.”

  Seeing as he was still smiling at her like she was the funniest thing he’d seen in months, her anger ratcheted higher. Anger was easier to deal with than embarrassment. “Not mad. Just have to go.”

  “When can I see you again?” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and left his hand lingering on her neck.

  She shivered. “I don’t think—”

  The theme song to Magnum, P. I. rang from Brad’s pocket, and he dropped his head back against the seat rest. “That’s Gabe. At this time of night, it can’t be good.”

  Saved by the bell. “I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for dinner.”

  Thumbing off his ringer, Brad climbed out of the truck and trapped her against the driver’s door. “Dinner was my pleasure. But you owe me dessert. This date ended too quickly.” He settled his hands on her shoulders and dipped his head to look her in the eyes. “And this is one debt I’m going to collect. I want another date.”

  “We don’t always get what we want.” A lesson she was going to have to remind herself of. Just because Brad seemed sweet and funny and sexy as hell didn’t mean she could have him.

  His phone rang again, and he pulled it out and frowned. “I’d better get this.” He pulled her in for a quick kiss, started to linger, and barking erupted behind the closed front door. “Christ, it’s like no one wants us to be happy.” He brushed his lips over the tip of her nose and stepped back. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Find out when Lydia can watch Ana again.”

  Izzy stepped around his door and watched as he folded himself back in the truck. She waited for him to leave.

  He stared at her through the windshield.

  Rolling down his window, Brad leaned his head out. “I’m staying here until your cute ass is in the door.”

  She huffed in exasperation even as she felt a smile tugging at her lips. With a wave, she climbed up her porch steps and pulled open her front door. The engine sputtered to life, and Brad rolled down her driveway. The screen of his phone illuminated his face as he pulled into the street.

  Izzy watched his taillights fade, her good mood dimming at the same rate. The red blinked off, and her street was empty. She rubbed her chest. When he was with her, she started to believe anything was possible. But now that he was gone, she knew better.

  That date had gone better than she’d hoped. He wanted to see her again, and if she was honest, she wanted to go out with him again, too.

  It should have been simple. Two people wanting each other. But this attraction wasn’t simple.

  And nothing good would come from it.
<
br />   * * * *

  Brad shoved another inch of water into the corner of the exam room, using a sopping towel like a broom. He cursed for the hundredth time that night. His back and knees ached from being on all fours, his pants clung wetly to his legs, and he’d ruined his one pair of decent shoes. This wasn’t how he’d hoped his night would end, cleaning up the mess left by a busted water pipe. Not after what had happened in the cab of his truck.

  Damn, but she worked up fast. And he liked that. A lot. All straight skirts and business jackets on the outside. A firecracker underneath. And he’d had to leave all that for a busted pipe.

  Dax came in from the hallway, pushing a mop in front of him. “It’s a good thing you guys have cement floors here. It makes cleanup a breeze.”

  “Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Gabe growled. He hefted a four-drawer file cabinet onto a loop-handle dolly with a grunt. “Maybe since you’re having so much fun cleaning up this mess, you’ll have a blast drying out all the records that were in the bottom drawers of our cabinets.”

  Making a figure eight with the mop, Dax shrugged. “It’s just a little water. I don’t see why you two have such a hair up your asses about it. Coulda been a lot worse.”

  Pushing to his feet, Brad bit his tongue. Their new volunteer’s lax attitude to what could be thousands of dollars’ worth of damage didn’t help his mood. But the newbie had a point. It could have been worse. It could have been a sewage line. The leak could have gone undiscovered all night and flooded the entire premises, possibly endangering the dogs. No, things could have been much worse.

  Still…Passing Dax, he knocked the guy with his shoulder, throwing him off balance. “We’re pissed because we didn’t want to be spending our nights mopping up water. You might have nothing better to do, but Gabe and I had plans.”

  Squatting by the cabinet under the main sink, Gabe pulled out the supplies. “How did your date go? Did I interrupt anything interesting?” Opening up a large plastic garbage bag, he tossed in what was ruined and put what could be salvaged on the counter to dry.

  “It was good.” Parts of it damn good. “Until she got a call and had to go back home to work.” And then it got even better. “I was working on convincing her to stay out a bit later.”

  “This the chick with the cute kid?” Dax asked.

  “Yep.” Cute kid. Cute nose. Cute smile. Cute ass. Work habit, not so cute.

  Dax leaned a hip against the exam table. “She doesn’t really seem like your type. His, maybe,” he said, jerking his chin at Gabe.

  “What do you know about my type?” Tearing open another bag of hardware-store rags, Brad glared at Dax.

  Gabe chuckled. “Brad doesn’t have a type. He’s like a dog; he’ll love anyone who’ll love him back.”

  Brad threw a wet towel at his friend’s head, and it hit with a soft squelch. “Asshole,” he muttered.

  Gabe shrugged and pulled the rag off his shoulder. “If the shoe fits.” He turned to Dax. “But you’ve got me pegged wrong. I don’t like the high-maintenance types. A career-driven single mom sounds like she’d need frequent tune-ups.”

  “Some women just need a little extra care. Doesn’t make them high-maintenance.” Izzy had gotten into his goofy murder mystery date after only a couple of eye rolls. And she didn’t seem to expect anything from Brad. That didn’t meet his definition of high-maintenance. “I’m not a lazy bastard who expects women to just fall into his bed without any effort. Not like some people.”

  Gabe cocked his head. “That didn’t sound like an insult to me.”

  “Me either.” Dax jerked his chin at Gabe. “You want to go out drinking some night? Be my wingman?”

  “With the dude who’s sleeping on the couch in the kennels?” Throwing another ruined roll of gauze bandages into the garbage bag, Gabe shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

  An uncomfortable silence descended.

  Brad broke it, clearing his throat. “You going to tell us why you were sleeping on the dog couch?”

  “I’ve slept in worse places.” Dax leaned the mop handle against the exam table and stretched. “Being an adventure guide means a lot of camping in the backwoods. It also means not a very big paycheck. And since I’ve had to cut back my hours to do this community service, well, my landlord didn’t accept my IOU.”

  “And now you’re sleeping with the dogs?” Gabe asked.

  “Better than being spooned by a bear,” Dax muttered. He shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

  Brad and Gabe locked eyes. Yeah, they were going to have to hear that story sometime.

  Dax rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t mind taking a shower from something other than the dog hose, however. If it bothers you guys so much to have me crashing here, I’m open to an invitation to stay with one of you. It’d only be for a couple of days until I figure something out.”

  “I live in a one-bedroom apartment.” Brad shook his head. “Tiny.”

  Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

  Placing a plastic tub he was using to collect water onto the floor, Dax held out his hands. “That’s all I get? Just a ‘no’?”

  “Yep.”

  Brad bit back his smile. Gabe liked to pretend he was a hard-ass. But if a person just waited long enough…

  Dax slumped his shoulders and picked up his tub. He shuffled to a wall of wet towels and started wringing the water out into the makeshift bucket. He sighed.

  “Motherfucker.” Resting his hands on his hips, Gabe stared at the ceiling. He took one deep breath, another, and looked back down, his eyes narrow. “One week. You can crash at my place for seven days. Tops. Then I kick your ass to the curb and you’re sleeping with any animal of your choice.”

  Dax grinned. “Thanks, roomie. You won’t even know I’m there.” Whistling loudly, he grabbed his mop and danced out into the hallway, pushing puddles of water around as he went. His tune echoed down the hall.

  Gabe shot him a pained look. “You suck.”

  “What? I’m not the idiot who said yes.”

  Gabe grunted. “Friends don’t let friends agree to stupid shit like that. You should have stopped me.”

  “What would be the fun in that?” Brad stretched his back, and surveyed the mess. “What do you think this is going to cost us?”

  Gabe stepped up next to him. “Let’s wait till morning to call a plumber so we avoid overtime rates. But it will depend on how far the damage goes. Is it just that one pipe that was rusted out or do they all need replacing? Short term, the plumber can probably cap the busted pipe and we just won’t use the sink. Long term…Then there’s the supplies we’ll need to replace, and the Sheetrock on the walls if we don’t dry everything well enough.” Gabe clapped him on the shoulder. “You’d better put your fund-raising ideas into high gear.” He headed for the door.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Brad looked at all the sopping towels and rags on the floor, the files and supplies drying on the counters and exam table. Exhaustion dragged at his shoulders.

  “I think I have some fans and space heaters in my garage that still work. We’ll set them up and try to dry this place out, maybe save the Sheetrock.” Gabe cracked his neck and gave him an evil smile. “You and Dax keep mopping. I’ll be back.”

  Brad strode to the hall and yelled after his friend. “Don’t stop for a coffee break while we’re busting our asses.” Gabe flipped him off over his shoulder and circled the reception desk into the lobby. “Wait,” Brad said, blinking the tiredness from his eyes, “stop at Bert’s Bakery and get us all some coffee, would you? It’s going to be a long night.”

  “And some doughnuts!” Dax yelled from the storage room.

  Gabe lifted his hand again, all his fingers raised this time, and Brad took that to mean the order was received. He turned back to the exam room and groaned. He loved his job, his dogs, and couldn’t
imagine doing anything else. But if he had too many more nights like this, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep the shelter open. This fund-raiser was going to have to be bigger than he’d first planned.

  The soles of his shoes squelched as he walked across the wet concrete to another bag of towels. Well, if he was going to minimize the damages, he’d better get to mopping up the water. The corner of the room with the sink seemed to be the wettest, so he started there, getting down onto his knees and shoving his towels into every nook and cranny he could reach.

  It was going to be a bitch of a long night.

  Chapter Eleven

  “As you can see, Bob, my proposals are garnering interest from some of the area’s most prominent developers.” Izzy’s fingers were wrapped tightly around her mug of coffee, but she kept her face even. Professional. She hoped. “If we stay the course, you will have a stack of offers to choose from.”

  Tariq smoothed a hand down the front of his blazer. “But you won’t get top dollar if we don’t deal with your existing leases. The buyouts will be expensive, cutting into your profits. If we can find any of your tenants in breach of the lease agreement, it will save you potentially tens of thousands of dollars.”

  Burker rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Doesn’t that seem a tad…unethical?”

  “Yes, because it is.” Izzy glared at Tariq. The absolute nerve of some people. Real estate agents might get a little creative when landing clients from agents of other firms, but it wasn’t cool to do it in-house. And to entice the man away with such a dirty tactic…

  “Not if the tenants are actually in violation of their lease,” Tariq argued. “You’d be amazed at how many tenants take advantage of their landlords with secret subleases, unauthorized build-outs, all sorts of things.” He leaned across the table toward Burker and planted his index finger on the oak surface. “If someone has broken their contract with you, it’s not wrong to use their breach to your advantage.”

  “Well, I guess it will all depend on the offers you present to me.” Bob sat back in his chair. He rubbed a hand over his round stomach. “Shall we meet again in two weeks? Discuss all the offers and then I’ll make a decision?”