“I love you, Kath.”

“Dude, get your ass out to the truck so you and your future baby-daddy can get started on that.” I pushed away first, turned her around, and smacked her ass…hard.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.” She chuckled, rubbing her hand on her butt and fighting tears.

I winked at her. “Just so your man knows he has competition.” Then, I told her softly, “Go, Tor.”

She didn’t turn around again as she went out of the kitchen. Her steps sounded up the big staircase in the middle of the house and out the backdoor to Cam.

***

Seeing as how Holst and I were heading toward an amicable working relationship, I decided to get an early start on cleaning up the empty shop. I spied his Beemer parked on Pacific Coast Highway and decided to surprise him with my metaphorical white flag in the guise of bagels and coffee. It seemed like the nice thing to do.

I somehow managed to balance the cup holder and bag while I got the key in the lock and turned. The place was almost completely dark inside, but it was obvious that Holst had been busy.

I set the tray of coffees and bag o’ bagels on the new counter, slid my purse off my shoulder to join the other items, and started to look around. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been in there before, but now, it was transformed.

The walls were varnished, faux log paneling all around. The wood was all dark, but the most incredible addition to this space, and something I wondered how he was going to pull off, was a huge fireplace that stood against the wall directly across from the serving counter. It was great, all of it, even in its incomplete state. I knew when it was all finished, I would absolutely love it.

I was so excited, actually wanting to find Holst and throw my arms around him in celebration, but I curtailed that wild hair and just called out his name as I opened the door to the storeroom at the back and...

“Fuck! Katherine!”

My mouth hung open…agape…a deer caught in headlights as I stared at the dripping wet, naked body of Holst. He was trying to cover up his sheer masculine beauty with a towel the size of a hankie while I tried to manifest magical powers that would make that micro-towel disappear.

Then he stopped trying to cover himself up and just stood there, and that’s when I knew for absolute certain…

I was in deep shit.

He set the towel down on top of a duffle bag and grabbed a pair of charcoal grey sweatpants. One tan toe appeared at the bottom of one pant leg, followed by the next as he languidly pulled them up his sculpted thighs, over his semi flaccid—though  what looked to be—generous cock. This was surrounded by a decent amount of hair that led up his magnificent abs with a small amount on his chest. Broad. That was the word that entered my head after the words thank you and God. But it was the last one I’d said aloud as I stared at his chest and mumbled.

“Broad.”

“Katherine?” he asked, rousing me from my cock induced catatonic state.

My voice was barely a whisper when I confessed, “I’ve seen your cock now, and I mean, I assumed it was gonna be a good show, but you have the goods…” I waved my hands in a circle, “all the goods, and that’s just not fair, and what’s worse is how in the fuck am I supposed to work with that kind of information? Day after day, knowing you possess that body and that…that…beast between your legs…my God!”

After my somewhat hysterical soliloquy, Holst pulled a tee over his head and asked, “Did you bring coffee?”

“Ye…” I began, but the word got lost in my now dry mouth.  I tried again and replied with a firm, “Yes.”

“Let’s drink coffee,” he suggested.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s do that.”

He took one leather arm chair; I took the other as he opened the bag of bagels and handed one to me. “I believe we have a few choices here.”

“And those are…”

“Well, you’ve seen me naked… I lock the door and you strip. We’ll call it even.”

Without even entertaining that idea, I unwrapped my bagel and didn’t make eye contact as I asked, “Second choice?”

“Second…” He took a sip of the latte I’d brought him. “We fuck.”

Cream cheese and bread lodged in my throat, and before I could recover, he continued to speak.

“It’s been a while for me. You’re a beautiful woman, and I have no doubt that, underneath those clothes, you hide incredible charms, Katherine. The likes of which I’m sure I have never seen before and will likely never see again.”

The way he presented the…options, I had to admit, I briefly considered that last one. Then, by some miracle, I found my voice and my reason.

“I don’t think those options are going to work for me.”

He let out a heavy sigh. Something he often did with me. “That leaves option number three which is…we are both adults, who, I believe, find the other person sexually attractive…thus leading me to my least favorite of options…that despite those realities, we move on and remain professional.”

Yeah, I had to confess…the third option was kind of a bummer, but it was also the smartest. Mostly because, one minute, I wanted to punch him in the dick, and the next, I wanted to drop to my knees and suck it.

I could’ve kissed him though when he went the gentlemanly route and changed the subject. “So, your friends are off to the John Muir Trail for a month?”

Cam and his brother, Drew, were hired to do the renovations on Bear Claw, so Holst was probably up to date on the lives of all my friends.

“Yeah.” I didn’t and couldn’t say much else. My body was trying to decide how best to cope with the image of a naked Holst in my head. To distract me I asked, “Why did your parents name you Holst?”

He swallowed, drank down some coffee, and replied, “I was born on September the twenty-first. My mom couldn’t decide on a name, and apparently, there was an article in the newspaper the day I was born about the composer, Gustav Holst.”

“Your dad didn’t have anything to say about it? My dad oversees everything my mom does down to her diet and wardrobe,” I shared.

He seemed far away in his thoughts, but turned his attention back to me with what I thought was a loaded answer. “My understanding of the blessed event is that my father had very little input about my name.”

I had no desire to dig into that aspect of his life. The more I knew, the more I’d want to know. And lucky me, I was saved by the ping of a text.

I reached into my purse and read it, and when I did, one word came through my lips: a long, slow, desperate, aching plea of, “Fuck.”

“Now?” Holst asked and followed it with a devious grin.

I ignored his comment. “Listen, I have to take care of something. Tell me what I can do to help out. Give me a list, whatever, and I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“We need a logo. I thought perhaps you and your friend Ruby could come up with some options, and then we’ll find a decently priced supplier for cups. Those’ll be the only things with a logo. That’ll save us money. I think we can aim for opening the first of September. Until then, I know you want to make yourself useful, and I don’t mean that in a demeaning way. But I’m also sure you don’t have an electrician’s license.” He paused for a moment then asked, “You don’t, do you?”

“No,” I replied and got up from the big, leather chair. I looked around the room, trying to think what else I could do to help. “I’ll hit the Muir’s antique shop in San Juan and see if they have any décor. And something we can use as a menu. Big chalkboard thing?”

“Whatever you think will go with the theme,” he said.

I was almost at the door, the paper bag from my bagel crumpled into my purse slung over my shoulder, coffee in hand, when Holst called after me.

“It will not be a hardship to see your beautiful face each day, Katherine.” He was grinning there in his sweats, bare feet, and easy smile.