6. Eden

SIX

eden

Is he fucking kidding me?

I narrow my eyes and my voice is tight. "You know damn well why I left. And I didn't run."

"Don't pretend like you didn't get a single message I left you."

"Oh, I got them all right. Including the last one."

His eyes search mine, and it takes everything in me not to let the tears show in my eyes.

After a moment, he releases me, and his eyes glitter with bitterness and a shadow of something else. If I didn't know him any better, I'd say hurt.

But Chase never gets hurt. He only does the hurting.

"I'm not here to rehash the past, Chase. I'm here for business. And if I had another option, I promise you I wouldn't be here at all."

His jaw tightens. "Fine, let's keep it to business."

I glance out toward the horizon and brush a hair out of my face. "Can we go inside at least?"

His smile is anything but kind. "You're not the only one with a business to run, Mitchell. The storm is coming in faster and stronger than predicted, and I've got work to do. You can help."

I scoff at his retreating back. "I don't think so."

He turns and comes back to stand inches from me. "Fine, then why don't you just go ahead and leave before they close the bridge? I'm not going to acquiesce to your request anyway. Get the hell out while you can."

Everything he says makes perfect sense. But there's some part of me that still thinks I can convince him.

It's a gamble for sure.

I can leave, knowing I'm up shit creek with my business and the trip was all for nothing.

I can get stuck here and he still say no and I lose all the way around.

Or I could get stuck here, do my best to convince him, and he agree.

The fact that I still have some hope is the only reason I follow him.

Well, that and the fact sticking around will irritate him.

The palm tree-lined path leads to a single level, craftsman-style home with a detached garage that has its own beautiful view of the Atlantic.

"Get those screws."

"Excuse me?"

With his chin, he gestures to a red box sitting on the ground as he lifts a piece of plywood.

"You know, the little pieces of metal that will go into this plywood to cover the windows? We'll need the drill too."

He carries the wood to one side of the garage, where there are a couple of windows.

Grabbing the items he asked for, I huff out a breath and follow him, trying not to admire the bunch of muscles in his back .

Or the line of sweat that rolls down his spine and stops at the waistband of his jeans.

Even the dark red scar from his surgery that snakes along the back side of his shoulder doesn't detract from the hot working-man picture.

"What do you have in here?" I ask.

"A motorcycle, couple of cars, tools. You know, garage things."

"Are you going to board up the house?"

"Which one?" he asks, leaning the plywood against the side of the garage and picking up the drill.

"Either of them."

"Don't need to."

I look around at the blowing trees and the clouds starting to roll in. "It's been a while since I've been through tropical weather, but I assume they still cause damage."

"The guest house there has automatic hurricane shutters. The main house has hurricane-proof glass. It protects the best, I don't have to do any work, and it looks better. But," he says with a grunt when he lifts the plywood again, "this wood works just fine for the garage here."

I study the structure he calls a garage. It's small, but that is relative compared to the main house. Most people never live in a house the size of his garage, much less his other two houses.

It's a far cry from the tiny dorms in college.

I shake my head. "Whatever you say. So, how am I supposed to help? You look like you got it handled."

"Bring the screws over here. I'm going to lift the wood up, and you're going to drive in the screws about eighteen inches apart. Got it?"

"Yeah, okay, sure."

He hands me the drill, and standing next to him, I line up a screw and drill it in .

It goes sideways though, and even with my limited knowledge of working with power tools and wood, I know that isn't good.

"Eden, you're going to need to get closer to get some leverage on that. Otherwise, none of them will go in straight."

With his head, since his hands are holding the wood, he gestures for me to get closer to him. "Come here. Stand in front of me."

I bite back a sigh and duck under his outstretched arm to stand in front of him. "Like this?"

There's a hesitation and clearing of his throat before he says, "Yep, like that."

The position of our bodies makes me pause.

His body heat is like an inferno at my back, his arms caging me in between him and the wall in front of me.

I bite my lip and lift the drill, holding the screw at the end and trying not to show how affected I am to be so close to him.

With a pull of the trigger, I drive a screw in before moving over the required distance and repeating the process.

"That's it. Just like that," he murmurs near my ear.

His breath tickles the hairs on the back of my neck as we move up one side of the sheet and down the other, our bodies moving together as though we've worked together like this before.

Of course, our bodies moving together has never been our problem.

When I secure enough screws to hold up the rectangle of wood, he drops his arms, but doesn't step back. I lower my arms and briefly close my eyes before turning to face him.

He's close, so close I can see a dusting of sawdust covering his skin and the brown specks that make his green eyes so unique .

The smell of wood, leather, and man assaults my senses and makes me weak in the knees.

I lean against the wall of the garage in order to stay vertical. Even after all this time, all the things we put each other through, he still has this effect on me.

Will I ever get Chase Hanover out of my system?

I have to; I have no choice. As soon as he gives me the answer I need, I'm headed back to New York and my life.

His eyes wander over my face and draw me in, just like they always do.

They're like a tractor beam, and I can't get away even though I know it would be the best thing to do.

"Why is it every time I see you, you're more beautiful than the last?"

He lifts a hand and brushes the back of his knuckles against my cheek. They're warm and a little rough from the dust, but that featherlight touch puts me on high alert.

Warmth spreads in my blood, pooling in my core, causing my panties to dampen with more than just sweat. I sway once, just before I lean my face into his hand.

He shifts slightly and is just inches from my face, his body still so close, but not touching mine.

I wanted to mind it, but I don't.

Our gazes hold, and he brushes a lock of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear and under the edge of my baseball cap.

"Am I interrupting?"

Chase drops his head and chuckles. "Fucking Nate."

I let out a breath, thankful for the interruption before I lost my shit and did something I knew I'd regret.

He pushes off the wall and turns toward his friend. "You're making me regret giving you the code to the gate. What do you want now? "

Blowing out a breath, I try to bring my system to rights. There's no way I can get that close to him again.

I need to get him to agree to my proposal and then hightail my ass back to the mainland and on the first plane to New York—and my sanity—tomorrow morning.

"…bridge's closed."

My ears perk up at those last words.

I walk closer to them. "Wait, what did you say?"

Nate turns to me with a smile that almost makes me forget what I was asking. "Hey, you're still here. Good to see you again."

"Hey." I wave awkwardly, a little tongue-tied to be honest with Chase standing there glaring at Nate like he could kill him on the spot. "Good to see you too."

"I see Chase didn't run you off."

I smile. "Nah, he'd have to try harder to do that."

He tilts his head, his smile still in place. "You look like you could hold your own when it comes to Hanover. Fighting back."

Holy hell.

Is Nate Gentry flirting with me?

"That's the best way to handle him."

Chase clears his throat loudly. "Enough, Gentry. You've said what you needed to say so you can head out."

Nate turns to him, a brow raised. "You got a problem with me being friendly to your guest?"

"You're being more than friendly."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd be insulted since I'm a happily married man. I guess since I'm not being a dick to Eden, that means I'm flirting? Don't worry, I think you got the dickhead part covered well enough."

"Move along, Gentry."

I roll my eyes. "Jesus, Chase, leave him alone and quit being such an asshole. "

Nate looks back and forth between Chase and me, a grin slowly spreading on his face. "Anyway," he says to Chase, "I hope you got everything you need from the mainland."

Panic grips my throat. "Uh, why is that?"

"We're under a hurricane warning now. We have to shelter in place."

"So that means…"

"The bridge to the mainland is closed."