Sophie bit her lip as Max swung the sledgehammer for the last time, the tool smashing through the last block of cabinetry left in the kitchen. His biceps flexed and under his perspiration-soaked t-shirt, his shoulder and back muscles rippled in a way she had no idea could be so completely sexy. Even dusty and sweaty and wearing protective eyewear, the sight of him caused her insides to clench and her heart rate... okay, her libido to race.

After lunch, the three men had dived back into the demolition task. Although she was supposed to be planning a sample menu for Simon, she'd been torturing her central nervous system with the private showing of strength and agility.

Had she just found her new kink? Construction workers? Growing up in New York, they were a daily sight, but she'd never been turned on like she was now. Maybe it wasn't the setting so much as the man currently flanked by two taller, leaner men. Max turned and grinned, setting Sophie's heart into defibrillator territory.

"Done." Finn slapped Max on the back and high-fived his brother.

The look of calm surety on Finn had her chest tingling for a different reason. He wiped the back of his forearm across a sweaty brow and the frown lines normally etched there were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the corners of his mouth wrinkled in an easy smile.

If only Emily could see him now. Her friend was putting on a brave face in front of her husband, but the stress of Finn's discomfort was wearing on her tiny frame. Which was why Sophie had pushed Finn into coming to the vineyard today, despite not wanting to choose sides.

"Who needs a demo crew?" Simon beamed at his brother. "We should go into business together."

Finn's grin wavered as he reached for the closest smashed cabinet. "Let's get this junk into the dumpster."

"We can sweep up the rest into garbage bags." Simon picked up the other side of the cabinet and walked backwards toward the kitchen exit. "I think I saw some in the utility shed behind the barrel barn. Finn and I'll grab them."

Max scanned the empty kitchen where broken bits of wood scattered the floor while light from the two windows illuminated the now empty space.. "The place looks so big."

"Yeah." Sophie stepped up beside him, seeing the room from his perspective. Another flush of heat blazed across her chest as she inhaled his musky scent. How could he possibly smell so good? One of the biceps she'd been ogling all afternoon brushed against hers, like a cat rubbing against its owner to mark them as theirs. Against logic and reason, she leaned into the accidental touch, fusing their shoulders together.

"What will you do with the place?"

Sophie studied his profile, the strong jaw her fingers longed to trace. "The plans are in my office. Wanna see?"

His gaze met hers. The fire in his irises caused her breath to catch. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he gave her the barest of nods. Without thought she took his hand and dragged him across the room, pulled him into the small space she now thought of as her sanctuary and over to the desk where her laptop hummed, waiting to spill its secrets.

With her free hand, she brought the machine to life and searched for the files containing the blueprints she and Simon had agreed upon. Heat crept up her arm from where her palm pressed into his. Besides smelling delectable, the callouses from working with his hands were somehow turning her on.

"Here it is." She tilted the screen his way.

Max leaned in and squinted. "Um... not sure what I'm looking at."

"These,"—her finger outlined a blue square—"are the ovens. The heart of the kitchen." Max's hand pulsed in hers and Sophie held on tighter. "And here are the prep stations, where my staff, should I ever get any, will put the plates together before they go into the dining room to our patrons."

"Got it." His voice sounded breathless, like he'd recently returned from a run. He shuffled his feet, the heat of his body warming her thigh, hip, and chest.

Her arm stretched to the other side of the screen, forcing her to bend closer to him. She watched his Adam's apple rise and fall. "This is the fridge." Her words were a whisper in his oh-so-close ear.

Max's tongue dragged across his full bottom lip, and she suppressed a groan. "Uh huh." Max grunted the acknowledgement like a man distracted as he placed a hand on the desk, as if to support himself from falling over. A vein in his cheek ticked which she had no choice but to stop with a kiss. Except her lips missed their mark, landing on his mouth.

Upon contact, he flinched. Sophie's stomach squeezed. What was she doing attacking him in the middle of the day, with Finn and Simon due back any second? This wasn't her favourite bar back in Washington and he wasn't her flavour of the night, an agreed upon dance about to start. This was Max. The man who she thought wanted her, but maybe didn't anymore. She'd all but shut him down the other day in the car. Was he having second thoughts?

Intent on apologizing, she unlatched her lips from his.

Max didn't give her a chance to express regret, his mouth taking hers, devouring her. His fingers dug into her waist, pressing her against his rock-hard chest. Desire flooded through her like Niagara Falls and she melted into the kiss, which only seemed to ignite a further hunger from him. Her hand left his and joined her other that had somehow slipped under his damp shirt and was caressing his lower back.

The edge of her desk banged against her hip as their bodies moulded together. Max's fingers entwined in her hair, tugged a little, requesting a new position. She happily obliged and his tongue did wicked things, leaving her breathless yet unable to resist. Jolts of electricity sparked throughout her body at every intersection of their touching skin, causing her nipples to harden, her internal muscles to tighten, and her heart to race.

His hand slid up her body, under her shirt, nails scraping against her stomach in the most delightful way. They found a path to her aching breast, cupping it in a gentle embrace, like he held something precious and cherished. While she enjoyed his effort, his touch was too timid, not enough pressure to bring the relief she desperately yearned for. She tipped forward, pushing into his hand to increase his hold, earn a squeeze, but he continued light, slow strokes that brought more pain of want than pleasure. In frustration, Sophie abandoned the warm skin of his back, grasped his hand and showed him how and where to squeeze.

As they worked together to knead her chest, Max's lips left hers. "Sophie." Hot breath fanned her cheek with the strangled calling of her name and flames curled in her stomach. Say it again, her mind screamed, her mouth too busy with a moan to form words. Instead, a long, low curse spilled from his lips and the fire below her belly button bellowed, excited that she could make him lose control. Excited to give in, shove aside thought and act.

His hips rolled, a new hardness pressing into her thigh. Since Max seemed to be a quick learner, she abandoned her schooling of how to properly treat her chest and aimed to explore his lower anatomy, eager to discover how he liked to be touched. Her palm slid over his abs, found the waist of his jeans, fumbled at the button—

"Max?" Finn's voice blared through the doorway.

Sophie's hand froze. Max's lips didn't, slipping along her neck to suck at a tender spot that sent the room spinning for her. Oh, how she wanted more of this. More of him. Nothing had felt this good in such a long time. At the edge of her consciousness, she heard what her logical brain might once of considered the sound of footfalls hitting the ancient tiles in the next room. A warning bell knelled in the distance. There was something she should pay attention to.

Something other than Max, whose thumb caressed the lacy edge of her bra, sending shock waves of delight to every nerve in her body. Back and forth, causing pressure to build in her abdomen and lower. She shifted her legs to make room for Max, to find relief, edging his thigh to find the spot greedily waiting for his touch. His moan reverberated against the swollen skin of her neck and pleasure skittered through her like lightening bugs on a summer's eve. Why had she waited for this, denied herself this pleasure? His nail dragged the material of her bra over far too sensitive skin and his name erupted as a gasp from her lips.

"Sophie?" Max's voice sounded off. More like Simon's.

Reality crashed over her. It was Simon's. The situation crystalized in her brain. Finn, Simon, or both of them were mere feet away. They could walk into the office any second, find her seducing Max. He wouldn't want that. She couldn't let that happen. Summoning all the strength she could, Sophie shoved at Max's chest, dislodging him and sending him far enough away that she could think clearly. Almost.

Max's brows drew together and the mouth that moments ago had been feasting on her drooped like a child whose ice cream had fallen into the sand. Every cell in her body screamed to fall back into his embrace, kiss away his pain.

Stabilizing her voice as much as she was capable of, Sophie locked her eyes on Max. "We're in here." She yelled over his shoulder, shoving her T-shirt down while ignoring the ache of the fabric rubbing against her all too perky nipples, a pale comparison to the pleasure of Max's touch. "I'm showing Max the plans for the kitchen."

Max blinked twice and shook his head as if to clear it from a lust induced fog like the one she herself had been suffering from a moment ago. He adjusted his jeans and cleared his throat. She opened her mouth to apologize when Finn popped his head through the open doorway.

"Is there a broom in here?" he said.

Sophie tried to shield most of her body with Max's, hiding her obvious state of acute desire evident on her chest, hoping her heated skin didn't show on her face. Her hand flew to her neck, clamping on the spot Max had recently attended to, covering what might turn into a hickey. A tiny giggle formed in her throat. She hadn't had a hickey since high school.

Simon appeared behind Finn. "What's so funny?"

Her hand attempted to obstruct the laugh as if fingers could keep the sound from falling from her mouth. Of course, they failed. Max squeezed the back of his neck, turning to the other men. "I was telling Sophie about my attempt at folding an omelet onboard our first submarine trip."

Finn barked a laugh. "I hear the cook is still finding bits of egg in crevices in his kitchen to this day."

Sophie focused on the back of Max's head, studying the buzz cut that was starting to show signs of growing out. Even that was too sexy for her inflamed libido. "There's a broom in the closet." She turned, burying her face in the darkened space. Gulping in air, she clenched her fist around the chipped handle of the old broom, concentrating on the rough wood that was nothing like the calloused hand she desperately needed back on her body.