Chapter 17

17

KANNON

T he ride back to Merritt’s place was slower than I would usually go, but I was enjoying the feeling of her pushed up against me way too much. I took the long way back, weaving through quieter streets, just to prolong things. Every turn brought her a bit closer, and with every bump, I felt her grip tighten. I knew it was just a reflex but I couldn’t help imagining it meant more.

We finally stopped in the driveway of her house. Neither of us made a move to get off the bike immediately. The engine ticked as it cooled, punctuating the silence.

She was the first to slide off. She unhooked the helmet strap and handed it to me. I hung it off the handlebar.

“You drive like a maniac,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve got no idea what reckless looks like. I was being tame.”

“Tame?” she repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You were leaning into those curves like you were auditioning for Fast and Furious. ”

I grinned and followed her. I wasn’t sure why or what I was doing. This wasn’t a date. I didn’t need to walk her to the front door. But I did it anyway. I leaned against the wall while she slid the key in the lock. She pushed the door open, the creaky hinges squealing in protest.

“I would never push it too hard with precious cargo on the back,” I said.

Her eyes met mine, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “Precious, huh?” she asked, her voice softening just a little.

I didn’t respond, mostly because I wasn’t sure how to without sounding like a complete idiot. Instead, I gestured to the door, which groaned like an old man on its hinges as she pushed it open wider. “I’ll grease those tomorrow.”

“Or now,” she said quickly, her words rushing out like she hadn’t thought them through.

I raised a brow but shrugged. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

“It’s been driving me crazy,” she said. “Although I guess it’s kind of like my own personal security alarm. No one is getting in here without waking the dead.”

“We should probably consider replacing the door,” I said. “It’s swollen and warped.”

“I thought about that,” she said.

I headed to her kitchen to grab some grease. The kitchen counter was serving as our catch all for the tools and items we needed to work in the house.

I carried the can back to the front door and quickly got to work on the hinges, wiping them down and spraying them until the door swung open and shut as smoothly as Merritt had kicked my ass at darts.

“Done,” I said, wiping my hands on a rag.

She gave me a small smile, her hands fidgeting at her sides. “Thanks, Kannon.”

“I’m always handy with the lubricant.” I put the can back and she groaned.

“You’re impossible,” she said. “I was going to ask if you want to stay for a glass of wine but now I’m not sure.”

I hesitated, knowing I should say no. It was late, and I didn’t trust myself around her—not after the way she’d been looking at me tonight. But I was weak when it came to Merritt. Always had been. And this was the first time she was extending an invitation. Turning it down might hurt her feelings. I didn’t want to risk her not asking again.

I could sleep later.

“One glass would be great,” I said.

I wasn’t a big wine drinker, but I had guzzled worse booze with much less attractive company. For Merritt, I would have accepted a glass of motor oil to extend our night together. Bad idea or not, she was my drug and I was addicted.

We walked back to the kitchen. She pulled a bottle from the fridge. She glanced over her shoulder, a tentative smile playing on her lips. “Hope you like red.”

“I’m more of a rosé fan but I suppose it will do,” I said in a haughty voice.

Her smile shone like the sun, melting me to the spot. She poured the wine into two plastic cups. “I didn’t know you were so fancy,” she said with a laugh.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to find out.”

I took the glass she offered me. Our fingers touched, sending an electric jolt through my body. It was ridiculous how easily she sent me reeling.

We moved to the living room. Given the lack of furniture, we sat on the floor and leaned against the wall.

“I love the color you picked out,” she said.

“Greige,” I said with a laugh. “It’s in right now.”

“I like it,” she said. “It’s bright and warm at the same time.”

We sipped the wine and fell into a somewhat awkward silence.

“It feels good to have someone in the house,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been too quiet. Too empty.”

I nodded, understanding more than she might have thought. “Houses are like that until you fill them with noise and clutter and life,” I said.

She sighed. “It’s just so weird to be here and he’s not.”

“I know. I didn’t even live here and I think it’s kind of strange.”

“How did you get into renovating houses?” she asked like she was trying to change the subject.

“It just kind of happened,” I said.

“Do you like what you do?”

“I do. I like the transformation. The before and after is exciting. A lot of people look at a house like this and think it’s better to just tear it down. I see a project and it gets me excited. It’s like bringing something back to life. Every house has its own story, you know? Just needs someone willing to help tell it.”

Merritt nodded. Her eyes drifted around the room then returned to mine. “I guess it’s a good thing you came around.”

I finished the last of my wine.

“Want more?” She was already getting up to go get the bottle. She returned and poured me another glass.

That was my first mistake. Technically, my second. The wine was going down way too easily.

“You said you own your company?” she asked.

“Yes. I call it a company but it’s not like I have a big office and all that. Luke and Wes are my two full-time guys. I have a handful of other guys I use if I have a big enough job.”

“Must be nice to have your own setup,” Merritt said, topping off her own cup. “A lot of freedom, I imagine.”

“It is,” I agreed. “Lots of responsibility too, but it’s rewarding. Like this.” I gestured around at her half-fixed house. “Seeing the progress at the end of the day is satisfying.”

We continued talking, the wine making the words flow easier between us. Merritt’s laugh became more frequent.

Before I knew it, we were polishing off the entire bottle.

“Got a boyfriend back in Miami?” I asked. Hell, the wine was giving me loose lips.

“Nope,” she said. “I don’t have time for that.”

“For dating?”

“No. It’s a pain in the ass, don’t you think?”

“I don’t really date,” I said. “Not seriously.”

“I can see why,” she sighed. “Last year I went on the worst date ever.”

“Yeah, what happened?”

“He showed up an hour late, first of all,” Merritt began, shaking her head as if the memory physically pained her. “And he didn’t even apologize. Just rolled in, all smiles, asking if I was ready to have the best night of my life.”

I snorted. “Sounds like a charmer.”

“Oh, it gets better,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “He took me to a fast-food joint. Tried to convince me that their limited-time sauce was some kind of culinary innovation.”

“No way.”

“Yes! And then, he spent the entire meal talking about his ex. How they broke up, what he thought she was doing wrong, you name it. I mean, I was practically a therapist for the night.”

“That’s rough,” I said, unable to suppress a chuckle. “Did you see him again after that?”

“Not a chance.” She laughed, shaking her head vigorously. “I told him I needed some ‘me’ time to recover from our ‘date’ and blocked his number as soon as I got home.”

“I can’t blame you,” I replied.

“You know what’s really bad?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” I said with a laugh.

“That was probably one of the better dates I had been on.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so hard. Better than that, I felt completely comfortable. Like I belonged.

“You can’t drive,” she said, setting her empty glass on the floor.

“I’m fine,” I said, though the wine had gone straight to my head.

“You’re not,” she argued, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “You’re staying here.”

“I’m not,” I countered, rising to my feet as well.

She moved to block the door, planting herself firmly in front of it. Her eyes flashed with determination, and for a second, I was transported back to when we were teenagers. We’d had a fight. About what, I couldn’t even remember. I had tried to leave to cool off. She’d done the exact same thing, standing in my way and refusing to let me go. She was tiny but mighty.

We’d been stubborn as hell back then, both of us too proud to back down. I remembered how it ended—me scooping her up, tossing her on the bed, and tickling her until she was gasping for air between fits of laughter. It had been one of those moments you didn’t forget, no matter how much time passed.

I grinned at the memory.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” Merritt burst into a fit of drunken giggles.

I rubbed my hands together, dusted them off on my jeans, and blew on them like a gymnast prepping for the bars. “Oh, I’m thinking it.”

“Kannon,” she warned, but the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying her amusement.

I didn’t give her a chance to react. I lunged, scooping her up and throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She let out a squeal. Her fists pounded weakly against my back as I carried her into the living room.

“Put me down!” she demanded, but she was laughing too hard to sound serious.

“Say please,” I teased, spinning us in a slow circle.

“Please, you jerk!” she shrieked, her laughter bubbling over.

I carefully put her on the floor, but before I could make my escape, she grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me down with her. We hit the floor in a tangle of limbs, both of us laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

When the laughter finally subsided, I found myself flat on my back, Merritt straddling me, her hands braced on my chest. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright with a mix of exhilaration and something else. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to name.

I could’ve moved. I could have flipped us, pinned her beneath me, and played it off like another joke. But I didn’t. I stayed right where I was, staring up at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Because in that moment, she was.