Page 51 of Nailing Studs

Not like all I wanted was to fuck Kayla, but she was such a warm, sweet soul that made me want to relax, put my feet up…how could I not want her all the time?

And for a work-a-holic like me, that was saying something.

The nail in the coffin of everything I was feeling today came at closing time when Amanda Haines, a woman I’d been pursuing for over a month, a second real estate agent our client had chosen to work with, walked into my office. She wore a red dress, her hair in a long, sleek blonde braid and heels that would’ve looked good with her completely naked, but I just couldn’t drum up enough attention to care.

“Logan,” she cooed, bending low to pick up a stack of papers that had accidentally-on-purpose fallen from her file. When she stood, her eyes were blazing with desire. “First you’re after me like a horny rabbit and now it’s like you don’t even see me.” Sitting on my desk, she crossed her legs and leaned forward so I could check out her cleavage.

Funny how some women turned their attention on you only when you finally give up. Because at that moment, I just didn’t have any interest. I could’ve fucked her right there on my desk, but I only wanted Kayla. And the chance to share with her and explore her and get to know her—just like the other guys.

I knew how Kayla probably saw me. It was the way everyone sees me: the douche bag, the arrogant asshole, the dick in a suit. I got it. I did.

But that wasn’t me. Not really. Most of that was just an act to sell houses. But that wasn’t all of who I could be.

I wanted to show Kayla that I respected her. I needed a way to show her that I didn’t just want to shove my dick into her pussy. I mean, yeah, I did. And more—way more. But I wanted to get to know Kayla. I wanted to listen to her and hear her laugh and spoil her as much as I could. And I wanted her to see that.

But damn it—how could I when she wouldn’t even call?

And then suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I’d need another day, but by this time tomorrow…

19

Kayla

Dom had taken off early the morning after he’d spent the night, leaving me a note and a bouquet of flowers he’d picked from Tabitha’s garden. The note had simply said that he’d had a great time and that I was amazing. He’d wished me well on my interview and added that he and Taylor had a project they needed to finish up and would be back in a day or two.

That day passed fast without them—I’d driven all the way up to the city of Pleasanton in the East Bay to my interview, and was pleased when I nailed it. The interviewer said I’d hear in a day or two whether I got the job, hinting that the call I’d get would be good. That left me conflicted—being employed would be great, but was writing for this magazine what I wanted?

Honestly, I had no clue anymore what I wanted. Or maybe I did have a clue, and I just didn’t want to look at it.

So I came back home and baked. And baked. And baked some more—as if kneading bread dough and drizzling icing on cakes and mixing fresh lavender into cookie dough would somehow satisfy the need and want in me.

I missed my men, plain and simple.

Now, it was nighttime, none of my guys were here, and I had nothing to do. And I was restless.

And worried. Even if I got this job, I’d still have to sell Aunt Tabitha’s house. There was a good two to three months of work to do until the place was in order. Again, I felt that sense of unease—the thought of moving to the Bay Area almost hurting me, as if I were being pulled up by my roots. Upsetting myself by the thought, I let out a noise of dissatisfaction and rolled off the couch, getting to my feet and heading to the kitchen where I could at least bake some muffins for the morning. Or maybe eat a couple of the lavender shortbread cookies I’d baked earlier.

Or maybe I should just get over this hesitation I had and call one of them. Or all of them.

Suddenly, there were lights in my driveway and soon after, a light knock on the door. I raised my eyebrows and headed to the door, knowing it’d be one of my men, but which one? When I opened the door to see Logan in his suit and tie, my heart fluttered as a smile spread fast across my face.

“Hey, lady. Headed to a sexy date?”

“What?” I looked down at what I was wearing—the same navy fitted dress from my interview this morning. I’d been wearing it all day, loving the feeling of being in control that the “professional with a hint of sexy” style dress gave me. Tabitha’s old apron, the gigantic white one that looked like something out of a cooking show, had provided ample protection as I’d baked. “Oh, this is what I wore to an interview this morning.”

He curled his arm around my waist and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Well, I love it. Shows me a different side of you, a sexy, older side.”

In some ways, I still felt like I didn’t know him as well as Dom and Taylor. I guess that was the hazard of coming into our group last—I’d always feel like I knew Taylor and Dom more. But there was an innate sense of trust I had with Logan, as if I could see straight through all his over-the-top charm to the core of who he was.

He sobered, holding my arms with his hands and staring at me intently. “I’m sorry I showed up unexpectedly. You didn’t return my calls and texts, so maybe I should have stayed away.” He dropped my arms and took a step back. “Say the word, and I’m gone.” He took another step back and almost fell off the porch steps.

I instantly reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Don’t leave. I’m glad you’re here.”

I wanted to add, I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I needed the space, and I’m grateful you gave it to me, but I was about to…

About to what, Kayla? I asked myself. I didn’t know, really, but I did know I’d wanted to do something. Or someone.

And now that Logan was here…