Whisper Falls by Toni Blake

was making him imagine how it might feel if she was touching him .
    Not that she ever would. He knew she had the hots for him a little—but he was about as far away from being Tessa Sheridan’s type as a guy could be. And even if there were moments when he wished that were different—like now, wondering if she ran her fingers across a man’s flesh as softly as she ran them over the bristles of the paintbrush she now held—it remained best that they were from two different worlds. And yeah, if she ever needed his help, he’d give it to her—but help and this job were the only things he could give her.
    In the two days she’d been here working so far, she hadn’t mentioned the room down the hall again. Which was good. He hadn’t exactly been smooth about reminding her it was off-limits—and he hadn’t meant to sound so mean, but some habits were hard to break, and besides, he wanted her to take him seriously. That room was private for now. If she saw what was inside, she’d know why he was back in Destiny, and she’d surely tell people. He could ask her not to, but she had no reason to be loyal to him. And hadn’t she said she was friends with his brother’s fiancée?
    Damn, Mike was getting married. In one way, it surprised him that his perfect, straight-arrow brother had waited this long—but in another, he was equally surprised Mike was letting himself get tied down period, because the straight arrow had also been a ladies’ man when Lucky had last seen him. And there was a part of Lucky that wanted to ask Tessa about Mike, about his parents. But he pushed that aside. That wasn’t why he’d come back. So instead he just kept watching her and enjoying every simple, sensual second of it.
    Why was it sexy just to watch her spread out newspaper on the floor? Why was it hot to see her kneel before a can of paint, smoothly prying off the lid? Even watching her pour the dark red liquid into a paint tray affected his groin a little. It looked something like wet mud, or clay, like something she might stick her hands in to mold or squeeze through her fingers.
    Whoa , down boy . He glanced toward his zipper and just shook his head. This was getting ridiculous. But Tessa was so different from any woman he’d ever been with. He’d never in his life gone for petite, let alone cute. And those hands of hers—most women he’d been with were the type to want things hard and fast, whether they were giving or taking. Tessa, he knew instinctively, would move more slowly, would touch more thoroughly, would make his gut clench more tightly.
    Aw, shit. Now she’d wrapped her dainty little hand around a thick, fluffy roller brush—and was . . . caressing it. The same as he imagined she might caress his hard-on. And he was hard now. Completely. Achingly. He’d never known watching somebody prepare to paint a room could feel so much like watching porn.
    He tried to calm himself down as Tessa carefully climbed a stepladder by the wall, paint tray in hand. She backed down to grab a thin paintbrush and a moment later was creating a perfectly straight line of brick-colored paint along the white doorframe without even covering the edge with tape. It made him crack a smile. She’d liked watching him paint, and now he liked watching her paint, too.
    Go away now , Romo. Yeah, that was a good idea. He’d already stood here too long gaping at her . Get to work. You have to do your work before you can pay her for her work. But he permitted himself a last long look at her ass as she paused, set the brush in the tray, and began to climb up another step.
    He saw it the instant her foot missed the rung and she began to lose her balance—and he instinctively rushed forward to catch her. Even as the pain tray stayed put, she tumbled backward, landing directly up against him, his body breaking her fall. The force nearly knocked him down, but he held them both upright as one arm automatically circled her torso, just under her breasts, the