Cherish Hard
Page 34

“All men?” Ísa said. “Was that on purpose?” An immature part of her did a little booty dance because the idea of Sailor sleeping in close quarters with another woman just rubbed her wrong.
Yes, she was in big, BIG trouble.
“No.” Sailor unlocked his own door using a key. “Just turned out that way. Welcome to my humble abode.”
Ísa walked in on curious feet. When she saw him kicking off his boots by the door, she toed off her kitten heels as well. Seeing what she’d done, Sailor grinned. “Cute toes, spitfire. But don’t worry about the shoes. I just take off my boots because they tend to get filthy over the course of the day.”
“It’s not a problem.” Ísa was itching to explore every inch of his private space. “I like feeling the carpet under my feet.” That carpet led into a small living area, beyond which was an equally small balcony. To the left was a kitchenette that looked out into the living area over a breakfast counter while to the right was a corridor with three doors that opened off it.
Ísa assumed those to led to Sailor’s bedroom and the facilities and maybe a closet.
Devil Ísa whispered for her to invite herself to explore. Clothing optional.
She was glad for the cool air coming from outside when, after putting the groceries on the counter, Sailor opened the balcony doors.
“It’s not much,” he said. “Certainly not what you’re probably used to. But it works okay for me.”
And Ísa’s brain clicked.
20
Health Note: Sleeping in the Nude Has Many Benefits
I’M NOT ACTUALLY RICH, YOU know,” Ísa said bluntly.
Where Cody had pursued her to get at Jacqueline’s wealth, it seemed Sailor was discomfited by the same. “It’s my parents’ money, not mine.” She held his gaze. “The only reason I have a fancy apartment that I can’t afford on my own is because I need room so my siblings can come stay.” Not quite the truth, but close enough.
Because both Harlow and Catie would’ve happily crashed on a couch or on a mattress on the floor. As a child, Catie had spent more than one night cuddled up to her big sister. She’d been so small, a wee thing, but she’d often taken over the whole bed while Ísa clung to the side. But Catie was thirteen now, and her life had changed fundamentally. There were things she needed to not be self-conscious, to be her sparky self.
Ísa and Jacqueline had worked together to ensure the apartment had all those things.
“Do you understand?” she said to the blue-eyed man in front of her. “It’s important to me that I make my own way in the world. Teachers don’t earn that much.” Especially teachers who’d taken an entire year off in the middle of a rising career.
Ísa had zero regrets about her choice.
“Yeah, spitfire, I get it.” Sailor chucked her under the chin as if she were five years old. Her scowl just made him grin. “I need to have a shower—I’m filthy. Do you want to grab a seat and watch TV while I wash off the day?”
Ísa’s mind immediately bombarded her with images of Sailor half-naked and gleaming wet, soapsuds dripping down his chest… and lower. Closing her hands into fists by her side, she said, “Why don’t I get to work on a salad?”
“I didn’t bring you here to work.” It was his turn to scowl, the five-o’clock shadow on his jaw just adding to his dark sexiness. “I brought you here because you looked like you could do with a little TLC.”
A strange feeling invaded Ísa’s bones. “I won’t exert myself,” she promised, flustered into breaking the eye contact. “I’ll leave the hard-core cooking to you.”
“I have a feeling you’re laughing at me,” Sailor grumbled, “but since you’re cute, I’ll let you get away with it.” A tug on a strand of her hair. “The kitchen’s tiny—I’m sure you’ll find everything you need.”
Ísa couldn’t help but watch him move as he headed down the short corridor to the right. It was unfair how beautiful he was from the back as well. The man worked with his body all day and it showed, but it wasn’t just the physical that attracted her. Not now that she’d learned of his passion and drive, seen the rough affection with which he treated his brother, glimpsed a hint of what it would be like to be the woman Sailor considered his own.
When, of course, he was ready for a relationship.
Which wouldn’t be anytime soon.
I’m married to my business. She’s also my very demanding mistress. Doesn’t tolerate other women for long periods.
Grabbing the lettuce leaves on that harsh mental reminder, she began to wash them out; the crisp green leaves had small specks of dirt on them from being newly taken from the garden. She wondered if it was Sailor’s mother who’d given him his love for the earth. And she told herself not to care.
Because none of this would last. Sooner, rather than later, Sailor Bishop would make a choice, and that choice wouldn’t be Ísa. Sailor had big dreams, a huge passion for his work. Even though Ísa knew that passion would only hurt her in the end, she couldn’t help admiring him for it. To be so driven and determined at twenty-three, it said a great deal about the man he’d become in the years ahead.
Take a chance. Make that mistake. Even if it hurts… at least you’ll have lived instead of being driven by fear.
Ísa shuddered under the memory of Nayna’s words.
A door opening and then closing down the hall. The sound of the shower came on a couple of seconds later. Despite her troubled thoughts, Ísa found herself imagining Sailor naked and wet all over again, his muscles moving as he lifted his face to the spray and pushed back his hair, washing off the sweat and hard work of a long day out under the summer sun.
Groaning, she tried to wipe the images from her brain. But said brain refused to cooperate, the images too beautiful and luscious to discard. So she listened to the shower and she tortured herself and she tried not to think about anything but this moment in time. The future would still be there tomorrow.
So would Sailor’s dreams.
And Ísa’s.
Both heading in different directions.
* * *
SAILOR SHOWERED QUICKLY, EAGER TO get back to Ísa and see if he could find out what was bugging her. She’d looked so sad sitting there in the car, the sparkle gone from her face and worry carving heavy lines into her forehead. The desire to just close his arms around her and hold her tight was so potent that he figured he’d have to sneak in a hug at some point.
Drying off, he pulled on the clothes he’d brought with him into the bathroom. Normally he just walked naked from the shower to his bedroom. As long as he’d closed the bedroom blinds before he left for his shower, he wasn’t in any danger of permanently scarring his neighbors.
For a second, he thought about playing with Ísa by hitching a towel around his hips and walking out—she did seem to like the look of him, and he was man enough to enjoy the way her eyes ate him up, but he had a feeling that today wasn’t the right time. So he pulled on a faded and worn pair of jeans along with an equally soft and faded white T-shirt.
Running a hand through his hair to settle it, he stepped out and padded barefoot to the kitchen. A salad sat neatly covered up in a bowl on the counter. Since there weren’t many places Ísa could be—the bonus of a one-bedroom apartment—he quickly located her on the balcony.