3. Promise

CHAPTER 3

Now that I've got the little kitten, which I've named Tigerlily, taken care of, I'm trying to get some work done. I pull out my accounting books and put new numbers in, my eyes wandering over and over to where the little kitten is sleeping on a bed on top of a kitty tree by the window in my office.

I smile and then my smile fades when I remember the guy next door. I didn't even finish asking him what the hell he was doing at June and Jeremy's house. But the answer is not something I want to even think about.

Because there's no way that that guy is their son. He's too big and loud and annoying.

They were so sweet and happy. No matter that he never came to visit them, they always talked about him like he was the best son anybody could have.

And that is not the guy I'm seeing.

I sigh and close the books, turning on the lights as the room gets dark. Tigerlily stretches out her paws and yawns, which makes me giggle.

I'm fascinated by the little kitten which is weird because I've never been a cat lady but maybe I'm just leaning into my future now. Lord knows, my dating history is slim to none and all of it is bad. Cat lady could definitely be in my future.

There's banging and slamming next door and I grit my teeth, my hand sliding as I jump.

"What the hell is he doing now?"

There's another huge crash and a picture falls off my wall, the glass shattering and the kitten hissing and jumping to her feet. I catch her and carry her quickly out of the room and down the hall to my bedroom, kissing her little head and pointy ears.

"You stay in here, sweetie. I'll take care of this."

I sigh and grab the broom and dustpan out of the kitchen and then pick up the mess, lifting the picture of my mom out of the ruined frame and feeling tears prick at my eyes. She died so early. Right after my 19th birthday, barely after I started school and I had to rush home to take care of things, finding myself in charge of an antique store that was a staple of our little home town.

I never met my dad. He died when I was a baby and it was just me and my mom. So when I got the call that she had passed away from a heart attack at the young age of forty, I was shocked. There was just no way. She was always so healthy and smiling. There was just no way.

But it was true and I've been in charge of the store and my own destiny, all alone, since I was still in my teens.

Which is why I have no qualms slamming my way out of the house in the dark and stomping over to the big house next door.

I rap on the door but the banging and slamming continues with no change and I snap.

I turn the knob and almost fist pump when it comes open and I step inside the large foyer. There's a huge desk taking shape in the middle of it and that seems to be where the horrendous noises are coming from.

"Hey!" I holler and bang on the huge desk…hard. "Hey!"

A dark head pops up and I almost laugh out loud at the huge goggles and carpentry dust in his hair.

He shakes his head and puts the saw down, tugging the goggles down to his chest. My eyes travel down and go wide.

He's not wearing a shirt and his broad chest is lightly-furred with dark hair that my eyes follow down a light trail straight to his low-slung jeans that cup his slim hips and expose those damn yummy ‘v's that make women just want to grab onto them and ride a man like a cowgirl.

I yank my eyes up when he chuckles.

"Like what you see, kitten?"

I flush and glare at him. "I don't like all the fucking racket over here! It's late and I'm trying to get some work done!"

He leans on the rough top of the wood and smirks at me, his pale green eyes dancing with laughter and desire. "I'm sorry to hear that, kitten, but I've got work to do over here so I'm afraid you're just gonna have to deal with the noise for awhile."

I huff and cross my arms. "You know…your parents were wonderful people. They never would have treated their neighbors poorly."

He snaps to attention and his green eyes turn frosty cold. "I'm not my parents…number one. And number two, I never intended to treat anyone poorly. I'm just trying to get the job done over here so I can start my new career. I'm on a timeline here. Your wishes have very little to do with that."

I growl under my breath. "I'm not saying that you're deliberately being annoying or mean. But there are laws in this town about messing around in the middle of the night with construction equipment."

He huffs and leans closer to me. "A saw is not exactly construction equipment, darlin'. Maybe you'd like me to help you get that stick out of your ass because you need to fucking relax."

Leaning on the desk, I stop, inches from his gorgeous face and glare at him, pushing the fact that he makes me want to climb him like a tree out of my mind. His firm lips curl and he steps closer to me until I can feel his minty breath on my face. "I do not have a stick up my ass. What I do have is a picture that was knocked off my wall because of your banging and shit over here and I want it stopped or I'll report your ass."

He grins at me and his cheeks flush when he glances down at my lips and my mind immediately jumps to all the different things he might be thinking right now and my breath slams in my chest, ratcheting up until I'm practically panting in his face.

And then his eyes darken to emerald and his pupils widen. I lick my lips and it feels like the room is too hot and close. Too stuffy. Too…just too much.

And his big paw reaches out and wraps around the back of my neck, pulling me tight into him and his lips slam down on mine. I taste mint and pine and sawdust and sweat and it shouldn't taste so damn good!

But it does and I lean closer, my feet on tiptoes as my hands land on his big, broad shoulders. I can feel his big muscles shifting under my hands, my fingers slipping on his sweat-slicked, tan skin and I dig my fingernails into his shoulders until he groans and tugs me over the desk, my feet leaving the ground and hanging in mid-air.

I moan and he growls under his breath, into my mouth, his teeth sinking into my lower lip until I open my mouth fully and he surges forward, his lips, teeth and tongue devouring me, eating my every sound until I'm a fucking needy puddle of want lying on that broad desk.

And then he steps back and I fall back to the floor on the other side, my eyes wide, my body humming as my fingers touch my swollen mouth.

"I will gladly debate whatever you want to debate, kitten. But right now I've got to get back to work." He comes around the front of the desk and his big hand lands on my back, gently guiding me to the front door as he pushes me through. "Now. You go home and get some sleep, kitten. I'll see you tomorrow." And he kisses me on the forehead and closes the door in my face.

And I stand there, shocked, appalled and so fucking horny that I want to slam that door open and leap on him, humping him like an aggressive dog in heat.

Instead, I turn around and head back to my house and walk upstairs, stunned, stripping and climbing into my shower and taking the coldest damn shower I've ever taken in my life.

But when I curl up later with Tigerlily, I'm still so fucking wired that when I drift off to sleep, I dream about soft green eyes and rough hands yanking my body around and fucking me against every flat surface we fall into.

Until morning when I groan and stalk down the hall for coffee and pray that I can wedge my poor eyes open at work because I'm dirty and tired and it's all that boy's fault.

I hate him. Or something like that. The bastard.