He’s having a hard time deciding between getting close to her…or walking away for good.
Eden Karr never expected to find herself living alone in the small town of Arbor Glen, Texas, the proprietress of her own clothing boutique, and expecting twins but it’s not a bad life. She has her work. She has wonderful friends. And now she has a carpenter who does a lot for those “eat a worm” days that she’s trying her best to shake off. Problem is, things seem so much easier when he’s around and she knows better than to rely on anyone but herself.
Jace Morgan thought he had his act together. He likes being his own boss. He likes working with his hands. Carpentry isn’t quite the same as architecture but it’s close enough that he doesn’t dwell on all that he’s lost. What he doesn’t like is waking up every morning and thinking about Eden Karr and the way she makes him smile. Or the way she almost makes him forget what brought him to this point in his life and that can’t happen.
Because forgetting cuts too close to forgiving.
(Originally published as Love Me Tender.)
“The slow burn had enough tender moments to warrant the tissue box and enough sexual tension and spark to bring out the fan.” – charliehorse, Amazon reviewer
Jace licked cinnamon glaze from his fingers, braced his palms on a chair back and bent at an angle that gave Eden a clear, close view of his back. Her fingers trembled for no good reason. At least none she allowed herself to consider.
Skimming the buckskin with a light touch, she tested the strength of the seam’s worn edges. Heat from Jace’s skin breathed over her hands, a seductive invitation to slip her fingers inside the shirt.
She closed her eyes. The scent of leather and man seeped into her loneliness. Then Benjamin kicked, reminding her not to be stupid again and she backed a step away. “Fabric looks tough enough. I think the thread just gave up the ghost.”
Jace glanced back. “So, can you fix it?”
“Now?” she repeated.
He nodded. “The bed of my truck’s loaded. I need to get over to Farmersville before it rains.” The sunlight shining through her kitchen window dimmed on cue.
“I don’t think I have time to drive home and change.” When she only stared, he went on to say, “I can go like this if you don’t have time.”
Eden shook off her trance. How bad could it actually be to have Jace undress in her house? She’d seen him shirtless just last week. Then they’d been outdoors, with acres of breathing room. Now they were in her house. Alone. With gloomy skies increasing the intimacy.
“I have time,” she assured him, then held out her hand and held her breath. He slipped out of the shirt and, before she allowed herself more than the briefest glimpse of male belly dusted with black hair, she headed for her workroom.
His moccasins whispered over the hardwood floor behind her, the sound a gentle coaxing of her senses, a sweet song to her ears. She felt his presence like a wildness inside her. His shirt grew warm in her hands.
Shoving back the curtained partition, she tossed the shirt on her sewing table, gestured for Jace to sit in the rattan side chair and headed for the cherry cupboard in the corner.
The top drawer held hundreds of spools of thread and, in her state of klutz and nerves and hormonal melancholy, she nearly toppled the contents to the floor.
Especially when she sensed Jace move to the window behind her. Eyes closed, she took a small backwards step his direction, close enough to indulge herself in the warmth of his bare skin, the scent of naked man and the subtle need to be near another human being.
It was crazy, this weakness shifting through her. Crazy. Insane. A gut awareness she hadn’t counted on. She’d never expected to come up against a man who’d make her want this way again.
Be honest, Eden. A man who makes you want in a way you’ve never wanted before.