Page 19 of Something Like Shelter

I took the last bite of my sub as I pulled into Willa’s driveway, Tuna happily munching on the extra meat I’d ordered on the side for him.

This giving up my free time after a long day of work was going to take some getting used to. Normally, I’d be home cleaning up after making a healthy dinner. Then taking Tuna for a long walk before heading into my makeshift gym in the basement to squeeze in a workout before bed.

Instead, it was takeout food while driving, then four more hours of work before going home to shower then crash hard before doing it all over again.

That said, it wasn’t resentment or dread I felt as I climbed out of the van with my dog and grabbed supplies before making my way up the front path.

The house was lit up in the warm, golden light that filled Willa’s house. I guessed there were no worries about her being awake still.

The doorbell barely got a chance to chime before the door flew open, and then there was a short, cute, bubbly blonde woman in a bright yellow floral romper.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” I greeted, brows drawing together. “Gracie, right?”

“Right! And you must be Tuna! I’ve heard so much about you.” She dropped down as Tuna rushed over the threshold, grabbing his big head with both hands and giving him a rub. “I’m so glad I got to meet you before I left,” she said, kissing the dog’s head. “Owen, nice to see you again. Willa is upstairs. She’s expecting you, but maybe just give her a little hello so you don’t give her a fright. Okay. I’m out of your way. Don’t mind me pushing your dog into my backseat. I’m totally not stealing him or anything.”

I let out a little laugh as she moved out of the door as I stepped in.

The lower level of the house was full of sounds and smells. Namely, the washing machine and dishwasher running and the scent of that natural basil cleaner Willa swapped out all her old lemon cleaner for.

Clearly, Gracie was the kind of friend who popped in uninvited to help a new mom with some basic life tasks while she either showered or caught up on sleep.

As I made my way toward the steps, a smile tugged at my lips when I saw the robot vacuum mop sitting on its cradle, charging.

I brought my tools into the primary bathroom before moving back out to try to announce myself.

But when I made my way toward the doorway of the nursery, where Tuna was already at the crib watching the sleeping baby, Willa herself was nowhere to be seen.

As I was making my way back out into the hall, a door flew open.

“Gracie, did I hear…”

I saw a split second of Willa—her wet hair around her shoulders, a white towel wrapped tightly around her body—before she ran right into me.

“Oof,” she grunted as she collided with the wall of my body.

When my hand went out automatically to steady her, it landed on bare skin. The bare skin of her hip.

“Oh, God,” she yelped.

“Did you… lose your towel?” I asked, forcing my gaze up to the ceiling. Making my hand drop from her warm, impossibly soft skin was a harder task.

“How is that possible?” she hissed. I could feel how heavily she was breathing, her breasts pressed to my chest. She refused to step away because she knew she’d expose herself if she did.

“It’s okay,” I said, lifting my hand to cover my eyes, and smelling the sweet, warm scent of her lotion or oil from touching her hip. “I won’t look; I promise.”

I could feel her gaze on me for just a second, checking to make sure I was a man of my word, before she suddenly moved away.

The sensation of regret was damn near overwhelming. Because some part of me that I wasn’t proud of wanted to keep running my hands over her body, press her back against the wall, touch, taste, and feel every inch of her.

Christ.

I needed to get a grip.

I didn’t pant after a client. Not even Willa, who I’d been around dozens of times in the past. I’d appreciated how beautiful she was, but hadn’t felt myself fantasizing about feeling her softness beneath me as I surged deep inside her.

“Okay. All decent.”