Running Wilde (The Winnie Wilde Series Book 1) Read online

  “What’s the rush?” Winnie asked as she pulled out her wallet.

  “I was heading to my spa after lunch. Fortunately, they had a cancellation and I got you in around the same time. I booked you a full body scrub and massage.” Kathy beamed at her. “They can’t do anything about spots and sagging, but when they get done with you, your skin will feel like a baby’s backside and you’ll feel like a million bucks.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Early the next morning Winnie put on her exercise clothes, laced up her running shoes, and headed for the trail. She told herself she needed the fresh air, but she knew she was kidding herself. She really wanted to bump into Ben and had thought of little else since her lunch with Kathy. She’d also slapped on a little makeup, something she never did when exercising outside of applying a little lipstick. The contractor was to come by at ten, giving her plenty of time to get in her exercise, head home, and shower before he arrived. If she did meet Ben on the trail, the contractor appointment would give her an excuse to leave, if she needed one.

  As she jogged slowly up the steep trail, she nodded to the people she’d come to recognize but there was no sign of Ben, not even waiting patiently at the top of Inspiration Point. Winnie was both disappointed and relieved. After a few pulls from her water bottle, she headed back down the trail. There was still no sign of him. Maybe he’d gotten tired of waiting for her, she thought, or maybe he was just looking for an easy flirtation and had found someone else to fit his need. Setting her jaw, she finished her run, did a short routine of stretches, and headed home.

  She was showered and finishing breakfast when she heard someone pull into her driveway. Shortly after, her front door bell rang. Peeking out the dining room window, she saw Don Church’s truck. She opened the door in greeting and gasped. Instead of middle-aged Don Church, on her stoop was Ben from the trail. Ben didn’t seem surprised in the least.

  “What are you doing here?” She finally squeaked out. She looked around, but there was no sign of Don, only Ben looking real fine in jeans and a white t-shirt with an open light blue chambray work shirt over it. She was glad she’d redone her makeup after her shower, but wished she was wearing something other than yoga pants and an old scoop neck knit top.

  “Church Construction, at your service,” Ben said with a gallant bow. He wasn’t wearing a baseball cap and he was freshly shaved.

  “You work for Church Construction?”

  He gave her a proud grin, “I am Church Construction.” He pointed to the truck with its logo. “Well, my dad and I are. I’m Benjamin Church, Don’s son.” When Winnie didn’t say anything, Ben held up a clipboard. “I have the list of things you spoke to Dad about right here. Shall we get started?”

  Without knowing what else to do, Winnie showed him into the house. “I have fresh coffee. Would you like some?”

  “Sure,” Ben said. “We can have it while going over the list, prioritizing it and talking paint colors.”

  They sat at a table in a sunny corner of her kitchen. Ben was all business and talked about the job. He would start with the repair jobs and finish with the rooms she wanted painted. “Have you picked out a paint color for your laundry room?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet, but I’d like to stick close to what it is now. I don’t think that room has been painted since we moved in here twenty years ago. Same with the kids’ bath upstairs.”

  “How about I start on these plumbing repairs first and you can work on picking out paint colors?”

  “Will you be doing all this by yourself?” Winnie asked before taking a sip of her coffee. She was trying hard not to stare into his incredible eyes.

  “Pretty much,” he said, giving her a shy smile that made her stomach clench. “The repairs are mostly handyman stuff, but if I get into a bind, I can call in some help. Dad and I mostly do small home remodeling jobs. We have two people who work for us. Right now the crew is working on the home remodel from hell. It was supposed to be over by now, but the owner keeps changing her mind about things and the project is about two weeks behind.”

  Winnie looked out the window at the pool. “My husband left about two years ago,” she told him. “He used to take care of anything that had to do with home repair, but since then, I’m afraid I’ve let a lot of it go. If I didn’t have a gardener and a pool guy, the whole place would be in ruins.”

  “So your husband was handy around the house?”

  “Ex-husband now,” she corrected, looking at him again. “And he was very handy at calling people like you and your father to come fix things. Edward wouldn’t so much as hang a picture and hated it when I tried to do stuff on my own, so I never did. Neither did our children. I’m afraid they follow more in Edward’s footsteps on things like that.” She sighed and looked back out at the pool. “My late father was quite good around the house, but I never learned. I wish I had.”

  “Hang around me and I’ll give you some tips.” He winked at her, and she wondered exactly what tips he meant. “Do you at least have a home tool box?”

  “We have a few small tools in a drawer in the laundry room,” she answered, getting her mind back on home repair. “Probably just a hammer and a few screwdrivers, stuff like that.”

  “It’s a start. I’ll check it out and before we’re done, we’ll make sure you have at least some minor knowledge of home repair and the proper tools.” He paused, then added, “If you’d like that.”

  She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I would,” she said, then blushed and looked away, wondering if it really was home repair and household tools they were agreeing on. At least that’s not where her mind jumped. “But I’m selling the house and doing some traveling,” she added quickly, “so I don’t know what good a tool box will do me.”

  “Everyone, man or woman, should have a basic working knowledge of do-it-yourself repairs. You never know when you’ll need it and a handyman might not always be available.” She immediately thought about the gift from Kathy. It was quickly becoming a common tool in her home. When Ben gave her another killer smile, she wondered if he could read her mind. She turned away before she licked her lips.

  “So where and when are you traveling?” he asked.

  Winnie, glad to get the topic away from handymen, tools, and jobs that needed them, said, “I haven’t set a date yet. I’d like to get the house sold first, but if it doesn’t, I might still take off. I’m going on an extended trip to visit old friends, some family, and to see some of the country. Something I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “I’ve been fortunate to have seen a lot of it,” Ben told her. “After college, a buddy and I bounced around for several months. We even made it up to Alaska. What’s your first stop?”

  “Probably Florida to see my mother.” She wrapped her hands around her warm coffee mug, wondering if she should asked the question on her mind. She barged ahead. “Was it a coincidence that you showed up on my doorstep today?” she asked.

  Ben picked up his coffee and took a long drink before answering. “Yes and no,” he finally said. “It was a coincidence that you called Church Construction, but no coincidence that I took the job. Dad was going do this himself since it’s on the small side, but when I saw the name on the job, I asked if I could do it, saying I might be able to get it done faster.”

  “But I never told you my name.” Winnie slowly got up from the table and stepped behind the kitchen island, putting it between her and Ben. She grabbed the glass coffee pot as if to provide refills, when she was really thinking of it as a weapon.

  “No, you didn’t,” Ben admitted, “but your keys did, at least your first name. When I saw the name Winifred Wilde on the job order, I asked my father what you looked like. I mean, Winnie is usually short for Winifred, isn’t it?”

  Winnie spotted her car keys on the counter and picked them up. It was a new key chain with a large sterling silver butterfly charm on which was engraved Winnie. Kathy had given it to her to celebrate her name change and escape from her long-time coco
on. On the backside of the charm was engraved, Spread your wings. She nodded to him. “Yes, my first name is Winifred.”

  “After Dad described our new client, I figured it had to be you.” He gave her a slow, easy grin. “Unless there’s more than one beautiful woman with curly silver hair running around with the name Winnie.”

  Remembering she had the coffee pot in her hand, she asked, “More coffee?”

  He got up from the table and came to her. He stood directly in front of her with only the coffee pot between them. “Would you be more comfortable if my father handled this job?” he asked.

  He was giving her a way out, and she knew from the sincerity in his voice, if she said yes, he’d leave and never come back, changing places with Don at the other job. “No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please stay.”

  In response, Ben lifted a strand of her hair and twirled it around a finger. “I love your hair. You always wear it pulled back when you run.”

  “Yes,” she said. Her voice remained barely audible as his touch sent a signal south, travelling from the pit of her stomach to a warm damp place between her legs, surprising her with its insistence. “It can get very unruly if I don’t tame it.”

  “Wild beautiful things should never be tamed.” He wound his fingers deeper into her hair. With his other hand he took the coffee pot from her and placed it on the counter. She didn’t protest.

  She also didn’t protest when his mouth came down on her neck, softly tracing it from where it joined her shoulder up to her ear. He cupped the small of her back bringing her closer while the fingers of his other hand delved deeper into her hair, pushing it back so his mouth had better access to her ear. He nuzzled and kissed it. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to moan. The tingling between her legs intensified. It had been so long since a man had touched her with such a mixture of tenderness and desire. So long. Long before Edward had left her. She worried she would climax right there into a puddle of desperation.

  The thought of Edward caused her to stiffen. It reminded her of her children. Of Emily. Ben sensed her brakes. “What’s the matter?” he asked, whispering into her ear.

  She pulled back. He dropped the hand from her hair, resting it on her hip. He placed his other hand on her other hip. “I’m a grandmother,” she announced, snapping the words like dry sticks.

  Ben took a deep breath but didn’t move away. After taking a second breath, he looked deep into her eyes. “So? I’m a grandson. More importantly, I’m not yours. Do you have a son?”

  She nodded and started to say something but Ben put an index finger to her lips, stopping her. “And I’m not him either.”

  He gave her his signature crooked grin. Before she could say anything more, both of his hands reached up, fingers griping her head through her hair. His mouth found hers, crushing down on it, kissing her with a force she’d never felt in a kiss before. She parted her lips and his tongue found hers, playing and teasing. Her body relaxed and her arms went around him, clutching him closer. Grabbing his bottom through his jeans, she brought his hips forward into hers and let loose with the bottled-up moan.

  Soon the kisses weren’t enough. Winnie released Ben and pushed him back slightly. While he sloughed off his outer work shirt, she pulled his t-shirt out of his jeans and started yanking it over his head. He helped and tossed it on the counter. Ben’s torso was slim with wide strong shoulders that tapered to a trim waist. His chest was firm and well developed and his arms muscled but without the bulging knots so common with men who over-used the gym. His skin was a warm light brown, like a café latte. The hair on his chest was dark but sparse, with a fine line of down that trailed from his chest down over his flat belly and disappeared into his jeans. She sighed, appreciating his beauty.

  He lifted the bottom of her top. Winnie raised her arms up and he slipped it off, exposing a pale pink bra. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said in a husky voice as he reached a hand up and caressed one of her breasts through the silky fabric.

  Winnie looked down, watching him stroke her breast, and saw the nipple pop to attention. “Look,” she said with a slight giggle, “It’s saying hello.” She giggled again as if drunk while he stroked her other breast and got the same response from that nipple. She reached around and unclasped her bra. Ben pulled it off, tossing it aside. It hadn’t even hit the floor before his sensuous mouth went to work on one of the firm nipples.

  “Oh my,” Winnie moaned. She arched slightly backwards against the counter. With one hand in his thick dark hair, she held him there, encouraging him. He kissed her breast, leaving a trail of tiny kisses while his mouth moved to the other breast. Back and forth his mouth traveled, sucking and licking and kissing, while Winnie, her face to the ceiling and her eyes closed, emitted a series of mewls and soft cries. She spread her legs wide and wrapped one around his legs, balancing on the other. She felt she was about to explode in orgasm when Ben stopped. She turned her head and opened her eyes to see him kicking off his work boots. In response, she kicked off her flats. Ben replied by stripping off his jeans and briefs. She watched him undress, breathless and unable to move to help. Once he was naked, he yanked down her yoga pants and panties. She lifted one leg, then the other, to step out of them.

  Both naked, Ben gently lowered Winnie to the floor on top of their clothes. She lay there, feeling patches of cool tile through the haphazard bed. She let him take charge, watching with halted breath while he put on a condom he’d pulled from a pocket of his jeans. When he parted her legs and positioned himself above her, she didn’t resist.

  Spread your wings, Winnie. Spread your wings.

  She cried out and arched her back when he entered her and thought she would disintegrate into shards of crystal like the glass she’d broken against the garage. He’d brought her to the brink before, would he suddenly kick her over it, she wondered, or let her suffer a delicious agony while he controlled his strokes and read her body, taking his time getting to know it?

  They moved together, finding their rhythm. Ben the younger but the more experienced, guiding her, controlling the timing until they both exploded in orgasm – she first, he right behind her. They lay together on the clothes, panting and spent. When Winnie began gently weeping, Ben didn’t ask questions, but gathered her into his arms and held her tight until she stopped.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I did him,” she whispered into the phone with urgency after telling Kathy about Ben from the running trail showing up at her home in place of middle-aged Don Church.

  “Good for you,” Kathy said on the other end of the line.

  “No, not good.” Winnie paused. “Well, yes, it was good. Damn good. But I don’t even know him. He showed up this morning to do some repair work and I just about jumped him before he came through the door.”

  Kathy laughed.

  “I’m a tramp, Kathy,” Winnie continued. “I did him on my kitchen floor without a second thought.”

  “You’re not a tramp. You both wanted each other and you’re both free.” Kathy paused. “He is free, isn’t he?”

  “Shit,” Winnie said, running a hand through her hair. She was sitting on the edge of the tub in the master bathroom with the door closed. “I don’t even know. He could be married with three kids, for all I know.”

  “I doubt that, but before you jump his bones again, find out,” Kathy advised. “Now I gotta run. But keep me in the loop. And you’re not a tramp, Win. Come on, repeat after me. Say, I’m not a tramp.”

  “I’m not a tramp.”

  “Good girl,” Kathy said with a chuckle.

  “But I feel like a tramp,” Winnie shot back before Kathy hung up.

  “You okay?” Ben asked. He stood at the doorway to her bedroom dressed again in his jeans, t-shirt and boots.

  When Ben got up and disappeared into the downstairs bathroom, Winnie had scooped up her clothes and scampered up the stairs to the master bedroom where she’d locked herself in the adjoining bathroom and called Kathy. Af
ter the call, she took a quick shower. When Ben found her she was wrapped in a long silk robe, sitting on an upholstered chaise. It was her favorite spot in the house. The chaise was located next to a large sliding glass door that led to a narrow balcony. Seated, she could only see thick treetops and sky. It was where she did a lot of her thinking, reading, and reflection.

  She glanced over at him and smiled. “Yes, Ben, I’m fine. More than fine.”

  He walked over to her and looked down with concern. “Are you sorry we made love?”

  Winnie turned her head and glanced out at the trees with their full leafy crowns, then turned to look at him. She shook her head as tears started to well in her eyes again. Ben sat on the edge of the chaise and took one of her hands in his. “Then what’s the matter?”

  “It’s silly, really,” Winnie said, waving her other hand to dismiss her concerns. “I just never knew it could feel like that.”

  “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

  “No, I have, but not like that. I thought those types of things only happened in movies and trashy romance novels.” She laughed and sniffed. Pulling a tissue from the pocket of her robe, she wiped her eyes and nose. “I’m just a silly old woman who behaved badly.”

  Ben shook his head. “You’re far from old and certainly not silly. And you didn’t do anything bad. In fact, you were quite good.”

  She shot him a surprised look, but didn’t say a thing.

  “I may be overstepping here, but didn’t you and your husband,” his voice trailed off before he finished.

  “I’ve only been with two men before today,” she told him. “In spite of how slutty I just behaved. My first experience was with my first boyfriend in college.” She laughed lightly as she remembered. “We were both virgins so there was a lot of clumsy bumping and poking. Then I met Edward, my now ex-husband, at the end of my sophomore year, and since then it’s been only him. He was a decent lover, at least when we were first together, but it was more mechanical than passionate.” She paused, then added with a blush. “Most of my orgasms were … um … self-induced.” She looked quickly away, embarrassed by her confession, and wondered why she’d told him that.