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said ‘please’!” she says, feigning shock.
    “Harley.” I warn.
    She sighs. “Okay, fine. Goodnight, Nolan ,” she says with a playful smirk.
    I bite back a moan at the way my name sounds coming from her mouth. Her eyes glint mischievously and I narrow mine at her. What is she thinking? Her hand moves in a flash. She cups me through my jeans and gives my semi-hard dick a light squeeze. I yelp in surprise and back my hips away.
    “Hey!” I sputter in utter disbelief.
    “’Hey’ nothin’. A grope for a grope, it’s only fair,” she replies innocently.
    My mouth drops open. “You’re unbelievable,” I say when I can finally speak.
    She grins and sends me a wink. “Gotta keep you on your toes. Night, Nolan.”
    She tugs on her door, forcing me to back farther away so she can close it. I stand there as she starts up the truck and backs out of the driveway. I watch her drive away as I try to understand what the hell just happened. I shake my head as I start for my car. I don’t know what to think of her after tonight. I’ve seen a different side of her, but that doesn’t change who she is, which is an annoying pain in my ass. I get in my car and sit there, looking over at the dark house and shaking my head.
    “This is all your fault, house. Damn you for having to be redone,” I mutter. I start up my car and drive to my father’s.
     
     
    ~ Harley ~
    I fight not to laugh as I catch Nolan’s disgusted reaction to the furniture place I bring him to. We are standing on the sidewalk and he’s just staring at the sign above the door. I know he is going to hate this place, but I think it will be the best shot at finding the perfect desk for his office. And since he liked all of my decorating ideas at the initial consult, I’ve now become contractor and decorator extraordinaire. When I mentioned to Nolan earlier that I was going to go look for a desk for his office today, he insisted on coming with me.
    “No, we are not looking for a desk in there,” he says firmly.
    “Oh come on, I just want to look,” I reply.
    He shakes his head. “Oliver’s Reclaimed Furniture. Key word, reclaimed. I will not use something that once belonged to someone else,” he says adamantly, crossing his arms over his chest.
    “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a spoiled brat!” I huff and put my hands on my hips.
    He sends me a dirty look. “I’m not a spoiled brat, but I don’t need to shop here when I have the money to buy something new!”
    “But the look we’re going for with the desk is something distressed and old looking,” I counter.
    “They make new furniture that looks distressed and old,” he states.
    I shake my head. “It’s not the same.”
    His stubbled jaw bulges as he grits his teeth. “Ten minutes. That’s it,” he grinds out.
    “Okay!” I chirp.
    We walk into the building and my eyes immediately take in everything that’s here. I see a couple of things that could possibly work. The problem is going to be getting Nolan to agree to it. I start toward one of the options. As I get closer, I change my mind. Not what I want. I let my eyes scan over everything, constantly searching. My eyes land on a piece of furniture peeking out from behind a hutch.
    I sneak a peek at Nolan to find him looking at everything in distaste, like everything here has leprosy and he is somehow going to catch it. I roll my eyes and focus back on my task. I squeeze between two pieces and step behind the hutch. I gasp and run my fingers lovingly over the beautiful distressed oak table. It was probably once a kitchen table, but it could easily be used as a desk in Nolan’s large office space. It needs to be cleaned up, but it is absolutely perfect, and exactly what I was looking for.
    Nolan appears on the other side of the table across from me. His eyes already telling me the answer is no.
    “Nolan…”
    “Nope.”
    “But…”
    “No.”
    “Will you just…”
    “Not going to happen.”
    “Just