Page 39 of Better Together

He reached into her popcorn bowl and grabbed a handful, asking out of the blue, “Would you ever get back together with Ryan?”

Alexis pulled her feet off the table and placed one leg under the other. “Ah. No. Rest assured, that would never happen.” She shifted on the couch so she could face him.

“What brought this up?” she asked.

Zeke shifted his body, too, turning toward her. “He stopped by the house looking for you today.”

“Did you ask him what he wanted?”

“I did, and he said he’d catch you later.”

“Did I ever tell you why we broke up?”

“Nope.” Zeke popped a few kernels into his mouth, trying to act like what she was about to say wouldn’t be a big deal. He picked up the remote and paused the show.

“I caught Ryan and Raven together at one of the houses we all worked on. I was supposed to be on another jobsite but had forgotten something. When I walked in, they were coming out of a closet, adjusting their clothing. Ryan had that deer-in-the-headlights look while he stuffed his shirt back into his pants, and Raven just looked smug.”

Zeke would love to deck the guy, but he didn’t want it to end up as gossip on the Town Talk app—or worse, jeopardize the contest. He sat forward and placed a hand on Alexis’s thigh. “I’m sorry. I’d never cheat on you. He’s an idiot. What did you do?”

“I was mad as hell but held it together. Well . . . sort of.” Alexis grinned her up-to-no-good grin. “I grabbed the closest thing I could find and sawed it in half.”

Zeke cringed but laughed. “Do tell.”

“Ryan had an expensive piece of decorative trim sitting by the miter saw . . . I’m guessing he had just finished cutting it to size before he finished Raven.” She grimaced. “I cut it into pieces and walked out the door.”

“How expensive?”

“Priceless, to him. He had rescued it from a house . . . he couldn’t wait to see it in place.” Alexis smirked and sat back, grabbed the bowl back from Zeke, and pushed play on the remote.

Man, he loved Alexis. His protective nature kicked into high gear. He wrapped her in his arms and never wanted to let go. No way would that little shit get near her again.

The show ended with a daughter seeing her father’s 1967 Mustang GT Fastback restored. The woman cried when the mechanic pulled the car out of the garage. Alexis fought back tears.

Zeke pulled her in close and kissed her temple. “Are you crying?”

“No.” She wiped her eyes, then buried her head into his shoulder.

“Are too.” He chuckled and started tickling her, and she sat up and tickled him back. Screw it. He couldn’t resist her any longer. Sitting beside Alexis for the past few hours had about killed him. With little effort, Zeke positioned her onto his lap, and she straddled him willingly.

Their faces inches apart, Alexis stared at his lips and said, “Hi.” He thought he might lose it right there and then.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth—soft, sweet, and salty.

* * *

Waking to soft snores, Alexis bolted out of bed. She landed hard on the hardwood floor. Wait. She wasn’t in bed; she had slept on the couch . . . with Zeke. Last night’s escapades were slowly creeping into her memory. From where she sat on the floor, she could see Zeke’s bare chest and two buttons undone on his jeans. She bit her lip at the sight of the dark hair below his navel disappearing into his pants. She looked herself over, smoothed her T-shirt down, and spied her discarded bra wrapped around the table leg.

“Good morning,” Zeke said, the corners of his mouth tilted slightly upward.

She scanned his face. A smile graced his kissable lips. They’d made out like teenagers last night but didn’t go further than third base. Not that she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t. Not now, when her career was on the line. She needed to focus on winning the contest.

“Good . . . morning.” She had to clear her throat. Be it sleepiness or pure, unadulterated want with a touch of take me now, she wasn’t sure. “I’ll start the coffee.” She stood and untangled her slate-blue satin bra being held captive by the table, and sprinted toward the bathroom. First things first. Another great reason for short hair, she thought as she stared at herself in the mirror, bed—or rather couch—mussed hair looked sexy instead of like a rat’s nest. She finger-combed her hair, brushed her teeth with an unopened toothbrush she found, and headed for the kitchen.

She busied herself with grinding the coffee beans. Zeke came up behind her and kissed her neck. A slight moan escaped at his touch, and she tilted her neck to give him better access. What was she doing? She needed to put a stop to this behavior, but her brain wasn’t connecting with her hips as she ground into his morning erection.

He reached around her and ran his hands over her bra, cupping her breasts. He whispered in her ear, “I thought we discarded this last night.”

“Mmm. Yeah.” Her brain wasn’t functioning.