Draw Me Close (2 page)

“Cryin'” blasted away in her ears as she pulled out her tape measure. She hated using the thing, with its cheap metal case and flimsy tape. But currently it was all she had. Fine for carrying in her purse, but as soon as she could Lindsey had plans to invest in some nice tools.

Setting to work, Lindsey focused on measuring the space between the upper and lower cabinets. A beautiful glass tile would be nice. Or maybe a beveled white subway tile. She smiled as she imagined all of the possibilities. This was what brought her joy, taking something tired and worn, and making it beautiful. Hopefully this job would lead to others like it. When she was finished with this house, it was going to be spectacular. If she couldn't have her own happily ever after, then the least she could do was help her friends create theirs.

*   *   *

Derek Walsh wasn't in the habit of ambushing innocent women, but Lindsey Morales had left him little choice. She'd done everything short of seeking a restraining order to keep them from encountering each other during this project. After tonight that might be her next step, but that was a chance he was willing to take.

He'd been using the barn at the back of his friend Mike's property as his makeshift office while he oversaw the renovation, and tonight he'd hung around to do busywork.

Waiting.

Quietly he pulled the barn door shut and headed through the yard toward the front door of the house. He'd heard Lindsey pull up and go in about a half hour ago and he wondered what she might be doing right now. He was nearly aching to see her face, but more importantly the two of them needed to hash a few things out. At the very least he had some things he needed to say to her. Things he'd been too much of a coward to say eight years ago, and as much as he knew she would not want to listen, he was intent on them having a long talk. They owed it to each other.

It didn't surprise him that she'd chosen a holiday—and a Sunday night—to come out and work. She assumed that she'd have the place to herself. But when Mike let the news slip-on-purpose that she'd be here, Derek had quickly processed three thoughts. One, Mike was a really good friend. Two, why the hell didn't a gorgeous woman like Lindsey have plans on Valentine's Day? Third, thank God Lindsey didn't have plans on Valentine's Day. The thought of her out with another man … well, his feelings on that were not something Derek was ready to process just yet.

A snowflake fell in Derek's path, glowing in the moonlight, as he made his way up the porch steps. The wind had picked up in the past hour and the screen door pushed against his hand as he lifted his key to the lock. The door opened at his slight touch and he frowned. How could she leave the door unlocked while she worked alone? Did she not watch the news? Or horror movies?

He stepped lightly into the entryway, not wanting to scare her. He wondered if he should call out her name, but before he could consider his next move, he heard … singing.

A stupid grin spread across his face as he listened. Lindsey was no nightingale, but he was pretty damn sure she wasn't trying for great. Maybe a sweet voice lingered underneath there somewhere, but no, this was a woman who thought she was alone, trying to impress no one. He recognized the song instantly and it surprised him a little bit. Slowly he made his way down the long hallway, his body humming with the knowledge that she was near.

The first thing he saw when he peeked into the kitchen was her long brunette ponytail. He couldn't help remembering what it felt like between his fingers—so silky and thick. It was a living thing, her hair. He loved the way it complemented the warmth of her skin and her sparkling hazel eyes. Every inch of her was ingrained in his memory, always had been. That didn't say much for his ex-wife, but she'd never been Lindsey. No one had.

For a moment he stood watching her. Tight T-shirt, ass shifting in her jeans as she leaned across the countertop to hold her tape measure against the wall. He should look away, it would do him no good to remember all the ways he'd once wanted her. How beautiful that body looked bare. After many years of misery, he'd finally convinced himself that what he'd had with Lindsey was never meant to be. But goddamn, as he stood here drinking her in, he couldn't help imagining his hands on her body, the feel of backing her up firmly against him.

Derek ground his teeth down and forced the unwanted thoughts from his mind. He'd be lucky if Lindsey welcomed his offering of friendship, let alone his touch. So far she'd made it very clear that she was completely uninterested in speaking with him, but this avoidance business had to end. They were adults. Their best friends were getting married, so the least they could do was learn to be in the same room together.

The fact that he'd purposely spent more time on a job site than he ever did was the first sign that he was committed to seeing her. And yet she'd never showed, despite the fact that all of the aesthetic details were her job. They'd exchanged a couple of very curt e-mails in regard to her choices for lighting and trim pieces, but that was the only communication. Not good enough for him. That needed to end tonight.

Derek bit down hard on his bottom lip—holding in a laugh—as she belted out another line, doing her best Steven Tyler impersonation. He was going to have hell to pay when she realized he was standing here watching.
Worth it.

Leaning against the door frame, he folded his arms across his chest as her humming echoed through the room and straight through his body. His lips quirked as she leaned down to scribble something onto a sticky note and then slapped it on the wall. Clearly she took as much pleasure in her little notes as he did.

His crew had gotten used to seeing little neon sticky notes all over the house with very brief, very bossy instructions. She used a lot of exclamation points. Things like
DO NOT PAINT THIS!!!!!!
or
PLEASE MOVE THE ELECTRICAL OUTLET OVER HERE!!!!

He tilted his head and gazed at the makeshift island. She'd brought herself an entire meal. Beer included. Huh. Was she drunk? No, didn't seem to be drunk, just oblivious to the fact that she wasn't alone. He didn't like that thought, not at all.

Something in the air changed and he glanced up. Her body remained facing away from him, but she'd gone stone still. That's when he caught her stare reflected in the window over the sink. She'd seen him.

Lindsey jerked around, her hands ripping the earphones from her ears. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes were wide, panicked.

There were a couple of ways he could play this, but instinctively he went for the route she no doubt expected from him. He smiled before he spoke. “Enjoying the show.”

The slight glare on her face didn't deter him. Pushing off from the door frame, he stepped into the kitchen. The temporary island separated them and she looked like a scared animal searching for an escape route. Then suddenly, smooth as silk, she pulled a mask over her emotions. What irritated him the most was that she seemed intent on not meeting his eyes.

Lindsey cleared her throat and set her pen down on the plywood. “How long have you been standing there?”

He shrugged. Her bad attitude pissed him off. And also reminded him of his earlier annoyance with her carelessness. “Long enough to know that had I been a stranger you'd be dead right now. Or worse.”

“Well, had I asked for your opinion on the matter, I'd appreciate your concern. But since I didn't, then I don't.”

Derek let out a hard breath. He needed to collect himself before he said something that sent her running. He'd already allowed this to get started on the wrong foot. “Fine. I'm just
saying,
next time, lock the damn door.”

“Fine, you
said
. Now feel free to lock it for me on your way out.” She turned away from him and reached for her headphones.

“Linds … please.” He was shocked at the desperation in his voice. Apparently he wasn't the only one. Lindsey's hand stilled next to her side, but she didn't turn. They were both quiet for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

“I'm working, Derek,” she finally said.

His eyes pinched shut at the sound of his name on her lips. It was the first time he'd heard it in eight years. If only it wasn't coated in such hatred.

“I see that. Measuring for backsplash tile?” he asked, stepping a little closer ever so slowly.

“Obviously.” She lifted her cheap metal tape measure up to the wall again. It bent awkwardly where a crimp in the tape had formed. Derek instantly lifted his nice bulky one out of his jacket pocket and stepped around the island to lay it on the counter beside her.

“Here. Use mine.”

“No, thanks.” She didn't even look down. Leaning forward once more, this time she used two hands to hold the tape in place. Clearly the thing was such a piece of junk—or so old—that it didn't have a blade lock. In her frustrated state she accidentally let the right side go and it bent at the crimp once more before the tape began reeling itself back into the case.

Derek took the opportunity to scoot his tape measure farther in front of her. “Quit being stubborn and use this.”

With a huff she slammed the old metal case down on the counter and picked his up. The chunky tool looked giant in her small hand.

“It's heavy,” she said quietly. “Not sure how this will be any better.”

Derek nearly rolled his eyes. She was hell-bent on being contrary. “Well, trust me, it will be. This one has a strong blade lock so you only have to use one hand. Keep it. I've got several more of those in my truck.”

“Of course you do,” she said with disdain.

Unbelievable. “So now you're even holding my tool collection against me? Perfect.”

He watched as she turned the gadget over in her hands, feeling the heft, pulling the tape out a few inches to inspect it. He would give anything to know what was going on in her brain. But more than that, right now he wanted her eyes on his.

“You know … if you'd just look at me, we could have a real conversation.” He forced himself to keep any bitterness out of his tone. The last thing she deserved was his anger, he knew that, but damn if her refusal to even glance in his direction didn't piss him the hell off.

Her body tightened in response but her head turned in his direction. She glanced at the ground between them and it was all he could do to keep from placing a finger under her chin and guiding her gaze to his. How he missed her eyes, the most beautiful color of green fading into brown he'd ever seen. Like a mix of grass, honey, and chocolate.

She gently set the tape measure down, her hands quickly grasping the counter in front of her, as if she needed the support to stay upright. He hated knowing this made her uncomfortable, but he was at a loss as to how to approach this woman. Make her trust him. Maybe he needed to accept that she probably never would.

If she'd just look into his eyes, let him explain, she would see how sorry he was for the way he'd let her go eight years ago. Just the thought of that night made his insides ache. Not one day had gone by that he didn't feel regret over the way things had ended between them.

There'd been no seeking her out over the years. Definitely not while he was married because he would not disrespect his vows like that, but not even after the divorce because he hadn't deserved to see Lindsey. But now that fate had brought them together again, he saw it as a gift. A chance to right his wrong in this woman's eyes, if just for an ounce of her understanding. If she'd only give him that.

“I never thought I'd see you again, Linds.” Despite himself, his voice held too much emotion, too much longing, and immediately he knew it was a mistake to say the words out loud. She sucked in a shaky breath and began to fidget with the black and red tape measure on the counter.

Damn. He'd meant to keep emotions out of this. The plan was only to talk, not try and seduce her. No good would come of that because he would not allow himself to hurt this woman ever again.

“I
hoped
to never see you again.” Her voice was cold.

That gutted him, but it wasn't a surprise. “I don't blame you,” he said.

“Then why are you here?” she bit out, her head still facing the counter. “There is no reason for us to know each other anymore. It's just an unfortunate accident that our friends met and fell for each other. You have to stop doing this to me.”

Okay, now that she mentioned it, maybe he was making a habit out of the ambush approach. Last fall, he had found a way to be at the right place at the right time, which happened to have been Anne's kitchen, in front of all Lindsey's friends. It had been stupid, but damn it, he hadn't known what else to do. At the time he'd just recently realized they were connected through friends and was desperate to see her. He'd wanted to explain, make her understand how sorry he was. Tell her that he'd thought of her nearly every day after he'd broken things off eight years ago.

And at night, God, at night, she'd haunted his dreams. He could never tell her that, but it might help if she knew that his feelings had been sincere. That although he'd never said it then, he had loved her very much. Had never stopped caring for her. She should know that all of it had been real.

“When Mike showed me the blog and I saw your face,” he said, his voice strained. Now that she stood this close—within reach—he wasn't sure how to put it all into words. “I felt like I couldn't breathe.”

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, but she quickly turned and walked around the island in the opposite direction. She picked up her beer but didn't drink, only squeezed it, as if it were to keep her hands from shaking. “I wish you wouldn't say things like that.”

“Linds—”

“Don't call me Linds,” she snapped. “That's what my friends call me. We are not friends.”

Derek felt tension take hold of his jaw and he moved it around to unlock it before he responded. “We used to be more than friends.”