Chapter 1: Homecoming Heat
Addison Hollingsworth stepped out of her dusty pickup truck, the Alabama sun beating down on her tanned shoulders as she surveyed the crumbling hobby farm she’d just sunk her divorce settlement into. The old barn sagged like a tired lover, and the farmhouse looked like it hadn’t seen a kind touch in decades. But it was hers. A fresh start. A place to rebuild after her ex had shattered her heart.
“Girl, you’ve lost your damn mind,” Isabelle drawled, hopping out of the passenger seat, her crimson sundress clinging to her curves. “This place is a dump. You sure you didn’t buy it just to punish yourself?”
Addison smirked, brushing a strand of chestnut hair from her face. “Punishment? Nah. This is freedom, Iz. No more city noise, no more cheating bastards. Just me, some dirt, and a whole lot of quiet.”
Isabelle arched a brow, her lips curling into a wicked grin. “Quiet? Honey, with that fine-ass brother of yours showing up to play handyman, I’m betting this summer’s gonna be anything but quiet.”
Addison rolled her eyes, but her stomach did a little flip at the mention of Beckett. Her little brother—well, not so little anymore. Last she’d seen him, he was a scrawny teenager with a chip on his shoulder. Now, at twenty-five, he’d grown into something else entirely. She’d heard the rumors. Broad shoulders. Calloused hands. A smile that could melt panties off a nun. And he was due any minute to start renovating her fixer-upper.
“Keep your claws off him, Iz,” Addison warned, though her tone lacked conviction. “He’s family. And I’m not in the mood for drama.”
“Family, my ass,” Isabelle shot back, fanning herself with a manicured hand. “That boy’s been eye-fucking you in every Christmas photo since he hit puberty. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”
Addison’s cheeks flushed, but before she could snap a retort, the rumble of a motorcycle cut through the humid air. Her breath caught as Beckett rolled up, all leather jacket and tousled dark hair, his boots kicking up dust as he dismounted. Holy hell. The rumors didn’t do him justice. His jaw was sharper than a blade, and those hazel eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her thighs clench.
“Addie,” he said, his voice a low growl as he approached, wiping sweat from his brow. “Been a while.”
“Beckett,” she replied, crossing her arms to hide the way her nipples had perked up under her thin tank top. “Didn’t expect you to show up looking like you just rode out of a bad boy romance novel.”
He grinned, slow and dangerous. “Didn’t expect you to come back looking like a goddamn wet dream. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”
Isabelle let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is gonna be fun. I’m grabbing a lemonade and a front-row seat. Y’all play nice now.”
Addison shot her friend a glare before turning back to Beckett, who was now close enough that she could smell the faint musk of his cologne mixed with the heat of his skin. “So, you’re here to fix my house, not flirt,” she said, her voice sharp but her pulse racing. “Can you handle that, or do I need to hire someone who won’t ogle me while swinging a hammer?”
Beckett’s gaze dropped to her lips, then back up, a smirk playing on his mouth. “I can handle a hell of a lot more than a hammer, Addie. Question is, can you handle me being around all summer, sweating and getting dirty right under your nose?”
Her breath hitched, and she hated how her body reacted to his words, a slow heat pooling between her legs. “I’ve handled worse than you, kid,” she fired back, stepping closer, her chest brushing his just enough to send a jolt through her. “Don’t test me.”
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might close the gap, pin her against the truck, and show her just how much of a ‘kid’ he wasn’t. Instead, he chuckled, low and rough. “Oh, I plan on testing every damn limit you’ve got, sis. Starting with getting this place—and maybe you—into shape.”
Addison’s mouth went dry, her mind flashing to images of him shirtless, muscles flexing as he worked, his hard cock straining against his jeans as he caught her staring. She shook it off, but the ache in her core was undeniable. Wet. Dripping. Horny as hell. This summer was about to get a whole lot hotter—and a whole lot more complicated.
As Beckett turned to grab his tools, his tight ass in those jeans practically begging for her attention, she knew one thing for sure: peace and quiet were the last things she’d find on Hollingsworth Farm.
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