Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

BENNETT

I could only stay away for five days. Apparently, five days was the duration of my intense humiliation, and day six was the tipping point at which my shameless desire to ogle my yard man overtook the embarrassment by one tiny but crucial degree.

My trip back to the city had been productive, so I couldn't regret it. I'd met with several clients, as well as two junior architects on my team, who seemed to have benefitted from some one-on-one time. My assistant had been thrilled and assumed my positive experience would mean my summer removal back to the city. I'd even considered it… for an entire day.

And then I'd woken up gasping and hard Wednesday morning with images of Theo Ross on his knees for me. The teasing glint in his eyes had suddenly brought back flashes of memory.

A younger Theo catching my eye across the pool table at the Hive a few years ago. A messy-haired Theo cutting in front of someone at Lyon's Imperial to sneak into line behind me the summer before last. Theo, with his head thrown back in laughter as he finished tying a Christmas tree to the minivan parked next to me in the Ross Landscaping tree lot last Christmas.

I'd noticed him before this summer—no one could see those bright eyes, those curls, that sunny smile and not notice—but I'd put him in a column in my mind labeled Way Too Young in bold, red font and hadn't allowed myself to notice -notice him. This summer, though, I hadn't been able to resist, and the fantasy floodgates had opened. And now that I knew he was twenty-four—still eons younger than thirty-seven but definitely, decidedly, undoubtedly legal—I couldn't stop notice-noticing.

Part of me knew that the rational, adult thing to do was to apologize—thoroughly—for what happened the other day and end my voyeuristic tendencies immediately. Another part of me hoped he'd asked to be reassigned so he wouldn't have to work for creepy Bennett at the Observatory House anymore. But of course the rest of me, the blood-filled rest of me, was desperate to lay eyes on him again.

When I'd passed through O'Leary and down the tree-lined road to Copper County and finally pulled into my driveway, I felt my entire body relax. It was late Thursday afternoon, which meant I had at least twenty-four hours before having to face Theo. I could check in with work, put away the groceries I'd picked up in town, and swim a few laps to stretch out my cramped muscles from the long car ride.

By the time I made it out to the pool, the sun was low in the sky, turning the waters of Copper Lake to rippling gold. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was something about this place that relaxed me and always had. Something that made me understand why my astronomy-loving grandfather had picked this exact spot to build the observatory house he'd dreamed of.

In tiny Copper County, on the shores of this shining lake, things felt… limitless. Even the stars seemed close enough to touch.

When I turned toward the pool, I noticed a piece of paper on the patio table. Though it was held down by a rock, its edges still fluttered in the breeze, and I recognized it as the same page I'd torn from my book of logic puzzles—the closest thing to hand—the day I'd left town.

"He didn't get my note," I murmured, walking toward the table and feeling a disproportionate sense of disappointment. Did this mean Theo hadn't been back? That maybe he truly had asked to be reassigned? That maybe…

As I reached the table, I saw the edge of a hand-drawn character peeking out from under the rock, and my heartbeat accelerated. I pulled the note out and stared.

It was a perfectly inked cartoon of a pompous king, a flighty queen, and an over-the-top court jester, just like in the puzzle. The speaking bubble over the jester's head said, "It's Thursday, your Highness!"

I stared at the scene, wondering how it was possible Theo Ross had actually drawn this himself.

And that's when I noticed the jester's dark hair and glittering eyes. Theo's exact same unruly hair and glittering eyes.

He was the jester. And he'd guessed the answer to the riddle.

I caught myself grinning like a fool as I studied the illustration for any other missed details. After a moment, I realized one of the Queen's ringlet curls was made up of letters. I turned the page sideways and brought it closer to make out the words.

I liked it.

My heart raced faster. Was I imagining this? Had my fantasizing advanced to the point where I was seeing things that literally weren't there?

I squinted harder. Once you knew to look for the letters, it was impossible not to see them. The words were clear.

I liked it.

I glanced around to make sure I was still alone. Since I lived on two quiet acres and was surrounded by mostly trees and lake, of course I was alone. My cheeks burned with discomfort.

I liked it.

Was it possible my ill-timed masturbation session hadn't been quite the disaster I'd thought it was?

My dick certainly thought so. It was eager to make its feelings known.

I groaned and waddled back inside. After a few frantic moments in the dark solitude of my closet, where I knew I couldn't offend anyone with my actions, I returned downstairs and pulled a couple of sheets of paper out of my printer. It took me the better part of the evening to get this one right. Finally, I wrote out the final version and left it on the patio table under the same rock.

And waited for Friday.