Mr. H.O.A. by Carina Taylor (readera ebook reader .TXT) 📗

I turned around to find Nola standing directly behind me—her hair in a messy bun, my shirt hanging loosely on her shoulders. It shouldn’t have been a big deal to see her wearing one of my shirts, but it was.

Now that we weren’t staying in the same room, it felt as though an entire night was as long as a month. I couldn’t wait to see her in the morning now and seeing her like that made me want to quit my job and spend all my spare time with her.

Something came over me—something that felt oddly similar to a toddler who doesn’t want to share their chair—a toddler who gets possessive over their preschool mat. I didn’t want to share Nola.

She was mine.

This may have started as a fake marriage, but I didn’t want to let her go. She looked at me with her wide green eyes and placed a slender hand on my chest—it wasn’t to push me away either. I leaned closer.

"Do you know the quickest way to a woman’s heart?" Nola asked.

"I’d like to know the quickest way to your heart," I replied honestly.

"Making me coffee every morning. It’s the sweetest thing a person could do."

"But I’ve already been making you coffee every morning..."

"Exactly. I feel like I owe you."

"You don’t owe me." My fingers skimmed the edge of the soft T-shirt.

"I could try to think of a way to repay you," she said, tapping her slender fingers against my chest. Her other hand came up to rest next to her left hand.

"When someone does something nice for someone else, they don’t expect repayment." My voice sounded gravelly, even to my ears.

"What if that person is looking for an excuse to repay them in some way?"

"What kind of repayment did you have in mind?" I asked.

Her hands sneaked up to rest behind my neck. "Maybe a kiss?"

"That does sound promising. But when I kiss you again, I don’t want it to be a form of payment or about you owing me. When I kiss you, I want it to be because you want it just as much as I do."

I leaned closer until her nose was nearly brushing mine. Her warm breath fanned across my chin. I tried to think of a single reason to stop myself from kissing her right then. Her eyes fluttered closed.

I whispered, "Don’t forget to add sugar."

I set the coffee cup down on the counter behind her and turned away, fighting a smile when I saw her disgruntled look.

"What?" She sputtered. She glanced behind her at the coffee. "Was that an innuendo?"

"I don’t know, was it? I told you I didn’t want you to owe me anything. I didn’t want to kiss you unless you really want it." I shrugged. "It didn’t seem like you really wanted it."

She grumbled under her breath, grabbed my arm, and spun me around to face her.

I grinned.

"Shut it—" she cut herself off as she slammed her lips on mine with surprising force. I pulled her hands from my arms, placing them around my neck. She softened immediately, allowing me to lead the kiss.

I grasped the nape of her neck as I tasted her lips, slowing her kisses. She wasn’t the woman I wanted a rushed kiss with. Not like the last time. She was someone to savor.

She sighed and melted against me as I kissed her, taking my time to explore her lips. She was the perfect height—I didn’t have to bend down at an awkward angle, merely tilt my head down to meet her upturned face. Her arms tightened around my neck.

I tugged on her bottom lip as she moaned quietly.

I pulled back just enough to speak against her lips. "Do you even know what you’ve been doing to me these past few weeks?"

I didn’t give her a chance to answer. I dropped my hands to her hips as I kissed her again. This time my tongue swept gently between her lips.

More. 

I needed more of her.

Enough.

I would never be able to get enough of her.

Her kindness. Her ability to love and protect. Her transparency. Her acceptance. She didn’t make me feel less than for my quirks. Instead, she built me up, reminding me of my strengths.

I wrapped my arms tightly around her, lifting her a couple of inches off the ground. She surprised me by wrapping her legs around my waist, her hands tightly fisted in my hair.

I spun around and pressed her against the pantry door, shifting my hands below her thighs to hold her up.

"Bane, you make me feel—" her glazed eyes blinked slowly at me before she dove forward again, kissing me like I was the last man in the world.

Hopefully, I’d be the last man in her world.

Chimes rang in the background.

Even the heavenly chorus approved.

Nola pulled back. "Bane, I—"

I leaned in, kissing her again. The pantry door creaked against our weight.

"Bane, the doorbell!"

I fought the urge to take her lips with mine again.

Not a heavenly chorus. It was that ominous doorbell. I should have disconnected it before I began kissing Nola.

With a frustrated groan, I slowly lowered her back to the ground.

"There had better be a wildfire and we’re being told to evacuate," I growled.

She smiled lazily at me. "It’s probably Carol."

I frowned at her before I opened the door.

Jan stood on the other side.

I sighed happily, glad that it wasn’t Carol. "Jan, good morning. What can I do for you?"

"Marcia’s added more singing gnomes."

Straight and to the point. And it didn’t make sense at all.

"What do you mean singing gnomes?" I took a slight step back at her angry expression.

"She has a singing gnome collection that is filling her front yard. It’s hideous and creepy. They’re motion sensors! They sing anytime someone walks by." She shuddered.

"I’m pretty sure that’s a code violation. There’s something in the manual about lawn ornaments."

"Please fix it."

I was going to have to quit more than my day job if I wanted time to spend uninterrupted time with Nola...

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Homeowners Association Rule #3:

Garbage service is required.

"Sally’s out