She shivered as she sank further into her fantasy of the two of them tangled up together, his body heat surrounding her.
"French doors leading out to a small deck."
"And the hot tub."
She bit her lip. "Of course." She saw him in the bubbling water, reaching for her.
"Do you want it?"
"Yes." God, yes. What she wouldn't give to finally have a home, to finally have a place--and a man--she wouldn't have to leave behind the way she'd had to for so many years.
She opened her eyes because she couldn't bear the fantasies anymore. He was close enough for her to make out the dark cocoa laced with milk chocolate in his eyes.
"You can have it, Tasha. Let me help your dreams come true."
This wasn't what her time here in the forest, on this mountain, was supposed to be about. She wasn't supposed to build her own dreams after playing a part in helping her father and brother crush those of so many other people. Yet here she was, on the verge of letting Daniel help her.
Then it hit her--he'd be leaving soon. She'd be alone again.
And nothing would hurt more than watching him go.
Maybe that was the reason she'd been compelled to come to Tahoe, to buy this cabin. Because she was destined to meet Daniel, to fall for him, to want him, to need him. To love him.
And then to lose him.
It would, she knew with perfect certainty, be the ultimate atonement for her mistakes.
The lump in her throat was so big she could barely speak around it. "Okay, Daniel, you've convinced me." It was nearly impossible to keep the tears from falling as she said, "Make my dreams come true."
Chapter Thirteen
Daniel took Tasha to his store in Carson City and helped her pick out slate for the hearth, log cabin paneling for the walls, and hardwood for the floors. They chose roofing material and new leafless gutters based on the guys' measurements and decking for the sagging porch. They wandered the kitchen displays, checking out cabinets and countertops, appliances and fittings. Everything she purchased, he got for her at cost.
He wanted to give her so much more.
The least he could do was buy her a ball cap that read, Carpenters know how to nail it.
She put it on right there in the store, and he nearly threw the rest of his caution to the wind and kissed her. All day, he'd been overwhelmed by the heat of her skin, the scent of her. Not to mention their earlier talk, which seemed to be about so much more than simply planning her house.
Could she possibly know how much he wanted to make all her dreams come true?
With her eyes closed, her body so close, so touchable, kissing her had been a temptation that was almost his undoing. And it sure as hell didn't help matters that the phrase on the ball cap gave him seriously hot fantasies.
The roofing materials were all he could fit in the truck bed, and the rest would be delivered tomorrow. Shortly after they returned to the cabin, the guys got to work, and the woods rang with the sound of hammers and nail guns. As long as everything went according to plan, her roof would be done tomorrow.
He hadn't forgotten a present for the puppies, having picked up chicken wire to build a simple outside enclosure. Soon, the dogs were in the pen, wrestling in the fresh air.
Daniel stood behind Tasha as she watched through the window. "They're getting better every day." Her voice was a sigh of relief.
"More like every hour. It's amazing." The little creatures were incredibly resilient.
"Thank you for today," she said softly, though she was still looking out the window. "With your wholesale prices, I didn't have to spend anywhere near as much as I thought I would."
He breathed in her sweet shampoo scent, aching to put his hands on her shoulders and pull her against him. "You're welcome." He wanted to say so much more, but he was trying to be patient, telling himself to take things one step at a time. First, he'd make her dreams for her cabin come true. Then he'd convince her that he should be part of those dreams too.
Despite his ongoing misgivings about the bumps his mother might be hiding, she was right when it came to taking a risk--he hadn't pushed Tasha, but he also hadn't pushed himself. If he didn't risk his heart now, he would never know if what he and Tasha might have together would be worth everything he had to give. And he'd never know whether he'd discovered the woman and the love he'd always been hoping for.
Not if he didn't put his heart out there completely, perfect or not.
To do that, he had to spend more time with Tasha, draw her out, and ultimately get her to trust him. Part of him burned to tell her about his mom's strange words, as if disclosing his confusion and his feelings would help Tasha reveal herself to him. But right now, he sensed she had too many of her own worries for him to do that.
He hadn't even laid his concerns on the Mavericks. He didn't have all the facts, and freaking them out over something that might be nothing...no way, he couldn't do it. Besides, was it even his business to talk about his mother's stuff behind her back? He didn't have a really good answer, so for now, it would remain his issue to think through without burdening everyone else.
Moving away from the window, Tasha said, "I should get started on the kitchen plan."
It gave him a reason to push his dilemma to the background again. "I'll show you how to use the app."
"You don't need t--" She stopped herself. "I mean, thank you. That would be great."
"Like I said before, you don't need to thank me for anything. I'm enjoying myself. And don't forget, there'll be hell to pay if my mom thinks the five of us haven't given your cabin everything we've got." It was an exaggeration, but it had worked before to help Tasha get over her hesitancy. He didn't feel guilty about using it again.
"I keep forgetting about your little white-haired mom shaking her rolling pin at five strapping young men and ordering them to help out the neighbor."
"Little white-haired mom?" He laughed so hard he nearly cried. "Mom will go into hysterics when she hears that."
"Oh no," Tasha said, her cheeks turning pink. "I didn't mean to offend her or you."
"My mom is impossible to offend. She'd have to be, after raising the five of us and my sister." He was still grinning as he said, "But she's neither little nor old. She's only fifty-six. And as fit and active as they come. Although, now that you've put the picture in my head, I can easily see her running after the five of us with her rolling pin."
Tasha grinned. "I like her already."
"She's going to love you."
Just like that, the light in Tasha's eyes died. Her movements robotic, she brought up the building app and said, "I've been playing with it a little already."
He wanted to take her hands in his and ask her what the hell had happened to make her so wary. Somehow, though, he managed to keep his hands to himself and his mouth shut.
Yes, he'd decided to risk his heart. But that didn't mean he wanted to destroy hers in the process. The fact that she was allowing him to help with her home was a good first step. He'd just have to hope she'd be ready to take the next step and confide in him soon.
Of course, that didn't stop him from wondering--was it something to do with her family? Was it a man? Or was it an issue with her job? He wondered about the bumps in Tasha's life just as much as he wondered about those maddening bumps his mother had alluded to.
Unfortunately, he was nowhere close to answers for either problem.
Turning his gaze to the computer screen, he saw that Tasha had digitally created the shell of the house, added walls and the bathroom with all the correct dimensions. "This looks great," he said. "We can start parsing out the kitchen. You want the sink under the window?"
She nodded. "And upper and base cabinets on this side. Then a tall pantry cupboard against this wall."
"Let's bring in the cabinets. We can adjust size--but it's cheaper if you use standard sizes--and we can move the pieces around." He clicked and popped in the sink.
"That's so cool." She looked at him. "Y
ou've really done something amazing here."
Amazing was her smooth skin, her silky hair beneath the ball cap with the phrase that kept giving him wild ideas. He hadn't realized the exquisite torture it would put him through when he bought it.
She began to select what she wanted, moving the pieces around. "I like these cabinets with the drawers in the base so I don't have to bend down to see what's at the back of the shelf. The carousel for the corner will utilize the space better." She was getting into it now. "And maybe it's better to put the tall pantry cupboard over here."
Her features came alive as she played in the app. She didn't need him; she had it all figured out on her own. But he loved watching her. Loved being with her.
For the next half hour, they moved cabinets and appliances like they were pieces on a chessboard. As the racket above increased, they drifted closer, their arms almost touching. He'd never been more aware of a woman, never more conscious of the curve of her lips when she talked or the music in her voice.
At one point, she reached for a piece of fruit in a bowl on the counter, taking a bite, leaving peach juice on her lips. He had the wildest urge to lick it off. But she did it before he could, the sight of her tongue driving him to the brink.
He wanted to grab her hand, suck the peach juice off her fingers and from her lips. Wanted to kiss her until she begged him for more.
Instead, he talked about counters and backsplash tile and range hoods, all the while drinking in her excitement as though it were an elixir.
This was the real Tasha Summerfield--he'd learned her last name today when she'd made her purchases at his store. She was enthused about life, about new projects. She loved to talk, loved exchanging ideas. She would have been the girl who always raised her hand in class, the cheerleader of her study group, the one voted most likely to succeed.
Yet here she was, living alone in a run-down cabin in the woods.
Again, he thought as a dark cloud shrouded his head, nothing added up.
"I love it!" She was practically beaming, her face lit by her excitement. "I can't wait to get it all installed." She looked down, holding out her hands as if she knew they were capable of anything.
All he could think was that he wanted her hands on him. And his on her. Touching her everywhere.
Driving her absolutely wild.
"You suggested so many things I never would have thought of," she went on, seemingly oblivious to the heat building to a fever pitch inside him. "I know you said to stop saying thank you, but I just can't stop. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
In her exuberance, she threw her arms around him, and it was so natural that he knew it was another clue to the woman she'd been trying so desperately to keep hidden away.
He wanted her to let out her true self, to break the bonds of fear that had made her run away from her life and her career. He wanted to set her free.
And he wanted her to be his.
Time seemed to stop as he instinctively pulled her against him. There was nothing but her soft curves nestled close, the sweetness of her breath against his ear, her silky hair caressing him. He raised a hand, pulling back far enough to stroke his fingers along her chin. Her eyes were a radiant blue, as bright as the real Tasha struggling to get out.
Everything stilled around them, even the hammering above. He let his gaze rest on her lips--a sweet offering, lush, kissable. Nothing on earth could have stopped him, not even his own chivalry, as he lowered his head for that first glorious taste of her.
She tasted like the peach she'd eaten just a little while ago, sweet and ripe and luscious.
She could have stopped him, lifted her head, ended it all. He prayed she wouldn't.
Then she angled her head.
And consumed him.
*
Daniel's kiss lit a wildfire inside her.
His muscles were rock hard, and she swore she'd never felt anything so wonderful in all her life as she kissed him with everything she'd buried deep inside all these months.
It was a kiss like no other. It was fire and it was light. It was a spot in heaven far from reality. It was sweet sensation and sinful desire.
In that glorious moment, he was hers completely. And she was his.
She kissed him until she couldn't breathe. Her legs moved restlessly, wanting to wrap around him, feel him, every hard line of him. His arms were strong, but his hold gentle. She could stay this way forever.
But she'd forgotten that she couldn't have forever. Not anymore.
Too late, she remembered exactly who she was: Natasha Summerfield, daughter of a con man on a national scale.
She didn't deserve such a beautiful, perfect kiss. She didn't deserve Daniel. Or his friends. She didn't deserve their help. She didn't deserve how nice they were to her.
They thought she was just some poor girl who'd been foolish enough to buy this wreck of a cabin.
But she knew better.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, forcing herself to break their kiss and trying to push back. "I didn't mean to get carried away."
He didn't let go, his arm a band around her. "Don't say you're sorry. Because I'm not."
He was so close and felt so good. God help her, she wanted to start that kiss all over again and never stop. "You don't really know me."
"I know enough."
"Please." She didn't honestly know what she was asking for. Please let me go? Please kiss me again?
All she knew was that she couldn't bear for him to discover the truth about her. How his gaze would surely change. How the coldness would descend.
She felt dirty for ever having allowed Eric to put his hands on her. How could she let Daniel touch her after that?
"Please let me go," she whispered. It was the right thing to do. The best thing to do.
The only thing.
But it hurt so badly when his arms finally slipped away.
"What's wrong, Tasha? You can confide in me. I won't hurt you, I promise."
She was the one who would hurt him, who was already doing it as she told him her first bald-faced lie. "Nothing's wrong. I just don't know how I'm possibly going to pay you back for everything you have done for me."
He frowned. "There's no price. You don't owe me anything."
She felt nauseated now, hating that she'd just debased their kiss by making it sound like nothing more than payment. "I don't mean a price. I..." She was making a mess of it. An even bigger mess than she already had. "I'd better check the puppies. They've been alone a long time."
"Tasha."
But she was already running, away from everything she'd ever wanted.
And could never hope to have.
Chapter Fourteen
Tasha's heart nearly burst with loss as she picked up Darla and stroked her soft fur. How she longed to return to Daniel, to beg him to forgive her, to kiss her again. To hold her.
"But I can't allow this thing between us to grow," she told the puppy, her only confidante. "No matter how much I want it to."
Daniel wasn't her only danger either. His friends--his foster brothers--were as well. They loved him, cared about him, and he would clearly do anything for them. She respected them, liked them for their humor, their confidence, for the loving way they talked about their families, including their foster mother and father.
His family was yet another reason why she couldn't get any closer. She didn't deserve to be a part of a loving, perfect family like his. And she certainly didn't deserve Daniel.
Carefully, she put Darla back into the pen to play with her brothers. Daniel had gone up on the roof to work with his friends, and she couldn't hang out with the puppies all day, doing nothing while the men did all the labor. There was a ton she still had to do inside. By herself, where she could think things through without being distracted by Daniel's proximity, by his scent, by the heat of his body as they worked side by side.
As she fixed yet another hole in the flooring, Evan entered the house, obviously wanting to talk to her.
/> "I saw you and Daniel working on the computer earlier," he said in a deceptively easy voice. "How are the plans coming?"
Icy fear washed through her. Fifteen minutes ago, Tasha would have launched into an excited soliloquy on the great ideas Daniel had given her, how marvelous his design app was. But now she was consumed by one question: What else had Evan noticed?
He must have seen them kissing. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here, no doubt prepared to tell her to leave his friend alone.
"Fine," she said, her voice trembling over the four letters. She stood on shaky legs, hooking her hammer into its loop on her tool belt.
Evan folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall like he didn't plan on going anywhere soon. "I have a confession to make."
Her stomach did a pitch and roll as though she were on a ferry in bad weather. His next words were a no-brainer, so she should have been able to steel herself against them. Yet there was no way to stop them piercing her like a knife.
"What's that?" she asked, her heart racing so fast she felt lightheaded.
"First," Evan said, "you should know that when we were kids, Daniel was always the first to come to our defense with the bigger kids. He's the kind of guy who's always got your back, no questions asked."
She swallowed, her throat sticking as if she hadn't had a drink of water in a year. "He's a good guy," she said around the rising bile.
"The best," he agreed, "which is why I worry about him." He held her gaze. "Especially around women."
He meant especially around her.
"Is everything all right with you, Tasha?" Evan let the question hang when she didn't answer. "Because it seems like something's wrong."
Her blood roared so loudly in her ears that she understood what he said only by reading his lips.
"I can't help wondering why you're here in Tahoe all by yourself. And why you're so reluctant to let us help." Evan pulled out his phone, slid his finger over the screen, and turned it so she could see.
She'd never be able to take another full breath in her life. Her lungs had stopped working. Her heart had stopped beating.
"I saw your name on the purchase orders for the roofing material you picked up today," he explained. "And I remembered a story I'd heard about two men named Reggie and Drew Summerfield who ran a resort scam, a father and son con-man team. Plus a third partner whose name isn't mentioned." He paused for several long seconds that made her squirm. "Do you know them, Tasha?"