When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(52)
Author: Brenda Novak

That diamond guy had felt he should be able to tell Simon how to spend his money, too. “How much pocket change?”

“Two-point-five million. It’s an entire compound, with ten acres and stables and everything.”

“We’ll take it.” Simon was still listening in, but Gail had no interest in buying the old Doman place.

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” she told Kathy. “It’s far more than we’re willing to take on. Simon wants to get a piece of land and build us a house, but for now we just need something small and cozy, something temporary and a lot less work.”

“Oh.” Kathy seemed disappointed.

“If she doesn’t have anything small and cozy, we’re taking the Doman place,” Simon informed Gail.

Gail gestured for him to be quiet.

“Well, in that case—” Kathy hesitated. “Meet me at the office. I can show you a couple of possibilities, but…there’s not much on the market right now.”

“I understand. We’re on our way.” With a triumphant smile, Gail hit the end button.

“What’s wrong with the Doman place?” Simon asked, scowling. “Kathy seemed to think it would be perfect for me.”

Gail fastened her seat belt. “You trust her more than you do me?”

“Hell, yeah,” he said. “At least she recognizes a good love scene when she sees one.”

“That love scene was…generic,” she responded, but it was a lie, and they both knew it. That love scene was one of the best to ever hit the screen. Every time Gail climbed into bed with Simon she had to face the memory of his perfect mouth moving down Tomica Kansas’s flat stomach….

His gaze lowered to her br**sts. “That’s not what your body is telling me.”

She resisted the urge to fold her arms over the evidence of her arousal. “I’m not Tomica Kansas.” She had to keep the distinction between her, at Plain Jane status, and the femme fatales who starred in his movies clear in her mind.

“You could’ve been fifteen minutes ago,” he said, but he was no longer looking at her. He was checking the road as he backed out of the drive.

19

“This is it?” Simon didn’t seem impressed with the house Gail wanted.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

He waited until Kathy was out of earshot. She’d gotten a call and was heading to her car for an address. “It’s a two-bedroom, one bath that was built in 1880.”

“So?”

“It’s functionally obsolete.”

“No, it’s not.”

“The only bathroom is in the hall, Gail. And it has a claw-foot bathtub. There isn’t even a shower.”

She rolled her eyes. “There’s a shower head above the tub and a curtain you can pull around.”

Obviously he’d seen the makeshift shower. He just didn’t think it was an acceptable arrangement. “I don’t want to have to stand in one place and turn in a tight circle. The entire bathroom is half the size of a normal closet!”

“By L.A. standards, maybe. But we’re not in L.A. anymore.”

He gave her a pained look. “I think I’m clear on that.”

“We’re not going to be here long,” she said, trying to convince him. “We can get by with this place, can’t we?”

After glancing into both bedrooms and the bathroom again, he sighed. “There has to be something else. This is barely…what did she say? Eight hundred square feet?”

“Eight hundred and seventy-five.” She shoved the flyer at him, but he didn’t take it.

Crossing his arms, he leaned dejectedly against the wall. “It’s the size of my bedroom back home.”

“But you heard Kathy. This is our last option. There are no rentals, and we saw the only other houses on the market. Neither of them were as nice.”

“That first one was bigger,” he grumbled. “We could fix it up.”

“It was right in town. We don’t want neighbors, do we? Certainly not nosy neighbors, and there isn’t any other kind in Whiskey Creek. Here, we’d have some privacy. Better yet, we’d each have our own bedroom.”

He turned to face her. “Being told I’ll be sleeping alone? That’s supposed to convince me?”

She grinned. “Convinces me.”

He lowered his voice. “Only because you’re scared.”

“Of what?” she scoffed, but immediately regretted it when he cocked his head as if he had no intention of backing down.

“Of me. Of how much you might enjoy my hands on your body. Of what it might feel like to lose control.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m not scared,” she lied. “I’m just…not stupid enough to…” To what? To get too comfortable in a marriage that wasn’t going to last?

He shot her a sullen glance. “To get involved with me?”

“I’m already involved with you. That’s not what I was about to say.”

“There’s another way of looking at it, you know.”

“Which is…”

“My way.”

“Let me guess. You think I should let you use me until you’re ready to move on.”

“I’m offering you two years of endless orgasms. Why reject that out of hand?” He poked her. “You need an orgasm more than any woman I’ve ever known.”

She stepped out of reach. “Quit treating me like I’m frigid!”

He lifted his hands. “Whoa, no need to get defensive. I wasn’t implying that.”

“But you think it.”

“I think you’re too uptight. But you have nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of you.”

He thought she was denying them both for no good reason. But he didn’t understand what was at stake. How could he? Maybe sex meant nothing more than a fun time to him, but she wasn’t built that way. “I might be uptight but I’m not shortsighted.”

“Typically not,” he said. “So why are you renting a house with only one bathroom?”

Arguing about sex and the number of bathrooms in their first rental made her feel more married than she’d felt before. “We’ll have to share it but…otherwise, this house is perfect.”

Hands on his lean hips, he turned in a circle.

“Okay, it’s quaint, but quaint is good enough.” She drew him back to the living room, with its high ceiling, crown molding and hardwood floors. “Look at this place. Look at the fireplace mantel. It has so much character.”