Dangerously in Love (4 page)

Another weekday began, just like the ones before it and probably like many others to follow. Hill and his crew arrived early at the Church property. Ty finished the gabion waterfall structure that would send water flowing into the massive swimming pool. Gabe built retaining walls. And Hill, after noticing how Caitlin’s high-heels dug into the ground, making it difficult for her to walk as she strolled around the property with Adam, decided to lay a granite pathway.

It was hardly ten in the morning, and the heat was already scorching as Hill knelt on the ground, measuring and placing the granite slabs in the dirt. A pleasant floral scent drifted toward him. He closed his eyes for a moment, indulging in the fragrance. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pair of yellow peep-toe stilettos in front of him. His eyes moved up from the slender ankles to the shapely calves and toned thighs, to a sheer miniskirt cinched around a small waist where a pair of beautifully manicured hands rested. He looked up further to see Caitlin staring down at him. He wiped his forehead with the back of his dirty hand then wiped his hands on his already grungy work shorts. He stood, smiling at her as he did.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Church?”

“You can start by calling me Caitlin. Or Cate. I prefer Cate.”

The hint of Spanish accent enticed him. “Okay, Cate. Do you need something?”

Caitlin folded her arms across her chest, rubbing her bare arms slowly, probably not even realizing she was doing so. “Take a break. Come sit with me.”

Hill grinned from ear to ear, but the thrill of her request was thwarted by thoughts of Adam lurking. He glanced around, particularly in the vicinity where Adam often sat.

“He’s not here,” she said, aware of Hill’s sudden concern. “Adam’s out of town.”

“I like your husband so much better when he’s not around,” Hill said, smiling.

Caitlin chuckled. She motioned for Hill to follow her to the patio. Her hair blew in the breeze as he followed closely behind, observing the sway of her hips and the glide of her stride, until she stumbled and fell. He tried to catch her, but she had fallen forward just out of his reach.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I guess I am,” she said, her head throbbing, her voice unsteady.

“Can you sit up?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that her head felt like it wanted to explode. She rolled over and managed to push herself into a seated position. Then she nodded. “Yeah, I can sit.”

“Good,” he said.

She looked into his fabulous brown eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, trying to shift his focus away from her boobs, which were as visible as if she were naked. “Let’s try to get you on your feet.”

She was too woozy to stand on her own and feared she’d collapse if she tried. He held her hands and pulled her to her feet. She fell against him. Her face pressed into his hard chest. He was solid, a concrete wall. Immovable. He adjusted her blouse to conceal her breasts, then wrapped his arm around her and led her to the patio where he lowered her into a chair.

“Have a seat,” she offered while rubbing the grit from her elbows. “I really like this patio you built. When you sketched it, I never imagined it’d be so beautiful.”

“It really does give an amazing panoramic view of your entire property from this location.”

“It does,” she admitted, crossing her long shapely legs, now scraped from her fall. Her fragrance wafted on the breeze, teasing him.

They lapsed into silence. Rosemary brought a tray containing a pitcher of iced tea, two glasses, sugar and cream, and tropical fruit. She handed a warm towel to Hill so he could clean his hands and then grabbed the first aid kit to tend to Caitlin’s scrapes and scratches.

Caitlin reached out, resting her hand on Hill’s thigh. This man was a mountain. Solid muscle. “Would you like a glass of iced tea?” she asked.

Hill looked down at her hand and placed his atop hers. It was softer than he’d imagined. He thought about pulling her onto his lap but resisted the urge. Instead, he opted for the glass of iced tea, nodding in response to her offer.

She removed her hand from his thigh and, after pouring the iced tea, handed him the glass. Their fingers touched briefly in the exchange. She smiled, uncrossing her legs as she leaned forward.

“Would you like some?” she asked.

Hill raised an eyebrow.
Some of what?
he thought. His eyes had fallen to where her legs had spread, her Brazilian wax evident. A deliberate advertisement of what she was offering? Or was she simply unaware of her exposure? He wasn’t sure, and his mouth watered at the thought of caressing her legs, rubbing her thighs, feeling himself between them.

Had it suddenly gotten hotter? Was he the only one sweating? She seemed immune to the heat, as if she had a personal air conditioner keeping her cool. Hill was sweating, and his hands felt grimy despite using the warm towel to wipe them. He was sure he probably smelled funky from the sweat. Still, she seemed to have been luring him in, the way she looked at him with her sultry brown eyes framed by long dark eyelashes. Her lips, red and pouty and plump, invited him to kiss them. He tried to tear himself away from her, but it seemed nearly impossible.

“Some?” Hill managed to ask. He didn’t want to be presumptuous.

She gathered some of the fruit into a ramekin. “I just thought you’d like a taste,” she said.

More than you know,
he thought. But he was interested in more than a taste. He wanted all of her—every bit of her. From her luscious lips to her titillating breasts. He swallowed hard as his mouth watered at the thought of tasting her. He licked his lips slowly and watched her cross her legs again, revealing herself in the process. She leaned forward a little, exposing her cleavage, rubbing her hand along her shin.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said, waving for Rosemary who arrived on the patio promptly. “Hilton doesn’t want any,” she continued. “Even though the beautiful spread was handed to him on a silver platter.”

“Hilton, you don’t like?” Rosemary asked.

“I do. Very much,” he managed to say to Rosemary. He returned his gaze to Caitlin. “As desirable and tempting as your spread was, I’m too filthy to indulge myself in something so elegantly delivered on a silver platter. Besides, I think this is my cue to get back to work.”

Rosemary took the tray and disappeared inside the house. Caitlin stood, the wind blowing her skirt and hair. “Thank you, Hill, for helping me after my fall and sitting with me. I enjoyed your company. Just let me know when your appetite arouses you, and I’ll be happy to oblige,” she said, holding her hand out to him.

Hill took her hand in his. He was so tempted to pull her body against his and kiss her with passion.

“I don’t want to keep you from your work,” Caitlin said.

“Thank you for the. . .” he hesitated. What did he want to say to her? What did he want to convey? It was clear what she was offering. Or was it? Maybe he was misinterpreting her actions. Maybe she was truly only offering iced tea and tropical fruit. After all, anything else she had belonged to her husband. He continued, “. . . for the tea. It was refreshing.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll bring your appetite,” she smiled as she walked into the house.

Soon the sun was setting, and all Hill could think about was Caitlin—her floral scent, her soft hands, her teasing and innuendo. Her flirtation hit Hill below the belt, quite literally. She’d caught him by surprise, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Even if he had accepted Caitlin’s advances, what could he have done about them? He wasn’t going to screw her in her husband’s backyard.

Besides all of that, he was still reeling from the bad news Samantha had given him after a romp for old time’s sake. At least that’s what he’d thought it was. But it was really a kiss off, one that he didn’t appreciate. He shook off his thoughts from Samantha and refocused on Caitlin.

“If you’re thinking about that Church woman, Hill, you need to know she’s bad news,” Ty said.

“No, I’m not. Just thinking about our upcoming projects.”

“Damn man, you were just grinning like somebody was giving you head. I wish thinking about work made me feel that good,” he laughed.

“Was it that obvious?”

Ty nodded. “I saw you with her today. I don’t like her, man. She’s big trouble,” Ty warned.

“She’s alright.”

Ty shook his head in disbelief at Hill’s naiveté. “Okay. Just remember, her husband already sent you to the emergency room. Maybe next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Hill pulled up to the curb, and Ty got out. “Thanks for the ride, man,” Ty said. “You won’t need to pick me up tomorrow. I’ll ride with Gabe in the morning.”

Hill gave Ty a tight-lipped grin and nodded. With Ty’s warning on his mind, he drove home, contemplating this shitty existence he called his life. First it was the loss of his career, then his woman. Now, the only woman who had ever drawn his attention away from Samantha was completely off-limits, despite her tawdry attempts at baiting him.

Finally home, he opened a beer—the last one—and plopped onto the sofa in front of the television. Before he finished the beer, he was out, more exhausted than he realized. He was awakened by his phone chiming. He felt around the table for it, knocking it onto the floor. He fumbled, banging his knuckles against the table a few times, shouting expletives as he did. Finally retrieving the phone, he answered.

***

Caitlin sat on the edge of her bed, noticing how eerily quiet the night had become. She was afraid to go back to sleep. Her dream had been brutally vivid. She propped up her pillows and lay back. It was too quiet. She could hear her every breath. Her heart thumped so hard she swore she could hear it beating. Although he was probably sleeping, she called Adam, who was still out of town, hoping his voice would soothe her.

“Do you know what time it is?” Adam asked impatiently. Caitlin could have sworn she heard a woman’s voice in the background.

“I know. I—I had another nightmare, Adam. You know how difficult it is for me when I’m here all alone.”

“You’re not alone. Rosemary’s there.”

“But she’s asleep. I thought I’d call you because . . . well, I just needed to hear your voice.”

“So now you’ve heard it. I have to go. I have meetings early in the morning, and you know I don’t function well without adequate rest. You’ll be fine. Good night, Caitlin.”

She stared at the iPhone screen. He’d hung up on her. But he’d done it before, and he’d probably do it many more times. She sighed heavily. An alarm sounded. Not her house alarm, though. It sounded like a car alarm. She ran to her window to see if she could see anything. Of course, she couldn’t. Their enormous property isolated them from their neighbors.

She went downstairs, giving up on getting any sleep. She noticed a light on in the basement. She was sure she’d turned the light off earlier today when Adam had forgotten to turn it off before leaving for the airport. But she could clearly see the light from under the small gap at the bottom of the door. She sighed. Maybe she was losing it. Opening the basement door, she flicked off the light, then closed the door again.

Her head was throbbing, and she rubbed it a little while going to her purse and digging out Hill’s business card.

She opened her Google app and dialed the number, hesitant about calling him. It was the middle of the night, after all. And even her own husband was put off by her calling. She took a deep breath and pressed
send
.

A groggy voice answered. Caitlin was silent for a moment. Hill spoke again. She realized it was a bad idea to call. But this time, his voice held more clarity and concern.

“Hill?”

“Yes?”

“This is Cate. Caitlin Church.”

“Caitlin, yes. . .” his voice sounded livelier.

“I know this will sound forward, but I’m—I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping, and I’m alone in this big house, and I’ve. . .”

“I’ll come keep you company,” he offered before she could finish.

“No, I’d rather come to you—if that’s alright.”

“I’d feel better if I came and got you . . .”

“The problem is my husband, Hill. I don’t . . .”

“I understand. Say no more. Absolutely. I’ll be waiting.”

She wrote his address on the back of his business card, dressed, and left.

As Hill waited for Caitlin to arrive, the rain began to come down in torrents. It became increasingly difficult to see through the windows. He ran outside and around to the side of the building, waiting by the heavy security fence at the opening of the long tunnel that led to the back of his warehouse. He saw headlights approaching and managed to get her attention. She turned into the tunnel, and Hill swiped his security card to let her in.

Most people who visited Hill could drive to the front of the warehouse, but he instinctively wanted Caitlin to be aware of the indirect, heavily secured, and obscure way to his property. She rolled down her window.

“A Maserati. Now that won’t stand out at all,” he said, smiling. He jogged around to the passenger side and got in. “You can park over there where your car will be sheltered.”

Once parked, Caitlin clasped the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles whitened. She leaned her head onto the steering wheel, whimpering softly. Hill hopped out of the car and opened her door. As she got out, he held her tightly in his arms. She cried softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her body trembled in his arms.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

***

Her head was down until she noticed the elegant floors, then she looked up and took in the richness of his place. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up into his. He seemed concerned.

“Your place is beautiful, Hill.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you do this?” she asked, pointing at the unique bar in the corner.

“Yes,” he said, staring down into her saddened eyes.

She put her hands on his hard chest. “Thank you,” she said, “for letting me come over.”

“No problem. Can I get you something?”

“What do you have?”

“Water, coffee, beer, tequila.”

She smiled. “Tequila, please.”

“Good choice.”

He poured them each a drink. He gave her a glass, and she downed it.

“Maybe I should bring the bottle,” he said, chuckling.

“Maybe. And some lime.”

“No lime, darlin’.”

He poured her a refill and sat beside her. He drained his glass. He put his hand on her leg and smiled. “So what’s going on? You seem . . . I don’t know— shaken up?”

She looked away but he reached out and snagged her chin with his finger, turning her face towards him. Her eyes were captivating.

“Sometimes, when I’m all alone,” she began, “I have nightmares. And my fear can sometimes be . . . overwhelming. Adam had the doctor prescribe me Xanax. But it’s not Xanax that I need, you know?”

He caressed her arm. “Yes, I know.”

“It’s like I’m his mistress, Hill, and he’s married to his work.”

“What does he do?”

She shrugged. “This and that. He doesn’t tell me much.”

He couldn’t help but notice how bright her eyes were, the way her eyelashes draped in front of them. He liked how she fidgeted with her wedding ring, which let him know she was fully aware of and not ignoring the obvious problem between them. As she looked away from him, her chin to her shoulder, he glimpsed the beautiful column of her long neck—he wanted so badly to kiss it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“I don’t feel beautiful.”

“Are you kidding?” Something about her accent wowed him. Even the pout of her lips made his heart skip a beat.

She grinned a crooked smile. “May I have another?”

He poured her another double shot. “You might want to slow down, darlin’. This is the cheap stuff. Probably not what you’re used to. You’ll have an awful headache in the morning.”

“Well, at least I’ll feel
something
.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, but she didn’t answer.

“May I?” she asked as she laid her head against his chest. She tucked her legs under her bottom and rested her arms on his thigh.

“Not a problem . . . at all.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they sat silently for a long stretch. He had actually begun dozing off when he felt her head loll. She’d fallen asleep.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers to her chest. He stood in the doorway and watched her for a while. He wasn’t in the habit of bringing women home—the last woman who had slept in his bed was Samantha.

Caitlin . . . there was something about her that made Hill break all his rules for her. But he had no idea the sea of trouble in which he was about to swim, and that certain events had already been set in motion for him to take the dive. He watched her turn onto her side and then went into the living room and made up the couch for himself.