Match Made In Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  She told herself to move, to turn away, to climb in, up on the seat and out of his reach.

  “Here you go,” he said.

  She braced herself, tipped her chin, closed her eyes. Here they went . . .

  “Mia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Your keys.”

  She opened her eyes to see them dangling in front of her.

  “Right. Thanks.” Mortified, she took them.

  She turned and climbed into the truck then, realizing she was soaked to the skin. She told herself he hadn’t noticed her intention, hadn’t guessed what she was feeling, what she was expecting from him, hoping for from him.

  But there was no way he’d misunderstood, and she’d just made a complete fool of herself all over again. She quickly shifted across the bench seat. She concentrated on inserting the ignition key, steadfastly refusing to look back at him. Then she put her foot on the brake and started the engine.

  “All good?” he asked.

  She gave a jerky nod, far too embarrassed to even look at him, and he finally shut the door.

  * * *

  * * *

  Silas knew he should have kissed her. Mia had been right there, practically in his arms, looking up at him both sweet and sexy.

  Sweet. He laughed at himself for that thought. Mia wasn’t sweet. Saucy, yes, but not sweet.

  “You going to take the shot?” Cobra asked him from across the pool table in the Bear and Bar Lounge.

  Silas pulled back on his cue and sent the nine ball straight into the right-side pocket.

  “Yeah, like that,” Cobra muttered, moving to a nearby table to take a drink of his cola.

  It was coming up on eleven, and Silas didn’t have a flight until three o’clock that afternoon. Cobra was taking a rare day off, nursing a gash on his arm from the jagged edge of some sheet metal. He had seven stitches and an order to wait twenty-four hours before going back to work.

  Silas checked out the table for his next shot.

  The café door opened and caught his attention.

  It might have been her image in his peripheral vision or a whiff of her perfume, or maybe a change in the energy of the room, but he instantly knew it was Mia.

  He straightened to look, and her gaze met his.

  She stilled.

  “Mornin’,” he said easily, wondering how she remembered their parting from last night.

  She gave him a nod and a casual smile.

  That little smile transported him back to last night, her eyes darkening blue, her lips ripe and luscious, her face wet from the rain, and her chin tipped at the perfect angle. Man, he was losing his mind.

  “Do we need a shot clock?” Cobra interrupted his thoughts.

  “Hey, Mia,” Breena’s greeting was warm and enthusiastic as she scooted out from behind the bar. “I was hoping you’d come by today.”

  Mia turned Breena’s way then, breaking her gaze on Silas. “I’m mobile this morning. I’ve got Raven’s truck.”

  Silas dutifully looked back to the lay of the table, but his thoughts were still on Mia. He blew his next shot on the five, rebounding the cue ball, leaving the table in great shape for Cobra.

  “Dude,” Cobra said, shaking his head in mild disgust as he chalked his cue.

  Silas didn’t particularly care that he’d screwed up. There was nothing more than a burger riding on the game of eight ball.

  Sure enough, Cobra made his last two shots and sank the eight ball. But more significantly, Mia and Breena were coming their way.

  “Doubles?” Breena asked them. “Cobra, have you met Mia?”

  “Hey, Mia.” Cobra moved to offer her his hand. “I heard you were visiting Raven.”

  Silas found himself watching closely, gauging Cobra’s level of interest, checking for a sparkle in her eyes that could indicate something reciprocal.

  Women liked Cobra. There was something about his size, strength and rugged looks that interested them. He was quiet, mostly a loner, and he didn’t pay much attention to their obvious flirting.

  “Nice to meet you, Cobra.” Mia’s tone was even. It didn’t sound flirty at all.

  “You play eight ball?” Silas asked her, trying to sound inviting, hoping to keep her around for a while.

  “I know the rules,” Mia said, finally looking his way. “But I’ve never played much of—”

  “I’ll take Breena,” Cobra said with a laugh.

  Breena had played eight ball with them since she was a kid. She was good.

  “Fine by me.” Silas would rather partner up with Mia than win the game.

  It was also good to know Cobra was more realistic than Xavier. He might recognize that Mia was gorgeous, but he knew he didn’t have a chance. Not that Silas had a chance. Not that Silas wanted a chance.

  He had to put kissing her out of his mind. But he did take the opportunity to sidle up to her. “Let me know if you need any pointers.”

  “I think I’m okay.”

  “Lag for break?” Cobra asked Breena, knowing she was good at placing a ball.

  “Sure.” Breena stepped up to the end of the table.

  Silas moved to stand next to her at the end of the table, placing a ball for himself and crouching for the shot.

  “You’re not even going to offer it to me?” Mia asked.

  Silas turned to give her a baleful look. “You want to take it?”

  “No.” She raked her shimmering blond hair back into a messy ponytail. “A girl just likes to be asked is all.”

  He fought a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Thank you.” She seemed satisfied with his answer.

  Breena won the break and made her first two shots.

  Silas courteously asked Mia if she wanted to go first, and she accepted the offer.

  He stood ready to help her with her form while Cobra rechalked his cue in anticipation of her miss.

  Mia lined up for a logical but difficult shot.

  “You might want to try for the six ball first,” he suggested.

  She gave him a censorious look, eyes narrowed, brows knit together.

  He took a step back in surrender, realizing her form looked just fine. “Never mind. Carry on.”

  “Thank you,” she said tartly.

  She tapped the cue ball, kissed the two at just the right angle and sent it dribbling into the corner pocket.

  “Nice,” Breena said.

  Mia flashed a grin. She sized up the table for a moment then waltzed around to the far end.

  Silas tried to figure out what she had in mind. When she adjusted her stance, he saw she intended to bank the cue ball and put the six in the side pocket.

  He straightened, moving to better see the angle. “Are you sure you—” He caught her stern look on him again.

  It wasn’t exactly a glare. In fact, she looked mostly amused.

  “Can you make that?” Breena asked on a note of awe. She’d moved too for a better angle.

  Even Cobra was watching closely.

  Everyone went quiet as Mia shot the ball.

  The bank looked good. She clipped the six. It hit the pocket. And before Silas could even react, the cue ball hit the ten and sank it as well.

  Mia repositioned her cue, smiling in satisfaction.

  “We’ve been hustled,” Cobra said, shaking his head in amazement.

  Mia moved around the table, sizing up another shot. “I haven’t played much eight ball,” she repeated. “But Alastair liked billiards. We have a table in the basement.”

  Breena burst out laughing.

  “Did you know?” Cobra asked her.

  Breena shook her head, while Mia neatly sank the four ball.

  “That’s my partner,” Silas said, impulsively giving her a one-armed hug before realizing what he was
doing. He quickly dropped his arm and moved on. “What were we playing for again?”

  “Burgers,” Cobra answered.

  “We should have put some money on it,” he said to Mia. “We could have gotten odds.”

  She slid her bright blue gaze his way. “You really want me to hustle your friends?”

  “Yes. No. Cobra, sure. It’d take a lot more than losing a game of pool to rattle him.”

  She quickly finished off the game.

  As Cobra pulled the balls from the pockets, some lunch customers came through the door and Breena went to serve them.

  “You’re really good,” Silas said to Mia. “If that supermodel thing doesn’t work out for you . . .”

  “I can schlep from town to town picking up pool winnings?”

  “I’ve got a plane,” he joked. “I’d fly you.”

  “We’d have to bet big to cover the cost of fuel.”

  “How about Vegas? High stakes down there in Vegas.”

  “Even been to Vegas?” she asked curiously.

  “No. You?”

  “We did a show there once. It’s big. Everything there is big. We walked and walked and walked.”

  “I would have thought you’d take a limo.” He could easily picture her in something low-cut and glamorous under the bright lights of the Strip.

  “Sadly, they don’t let them drive inside those huge hotels.”

  “Funny,” he said.

  Her gaze stayed on his for a moment. “If not Vegas, where have you been?”

  “Colorado. I grew up in the mountains.”

  She drew back, making a show of checking him out. “I can see that. You have a practical earthy aura, straightforward and unpretentious.”

  He wasn’t sure how to take that.

  “I’ve known a lot of slick, urbane guys,” she continued. “They talk a good game, but no soul.”

  “Play again?” Cobra asked her, moving closer.

  Silas wanted Mia to elaborate. Was she saying he had a soul? Did she like a guy with a soul?

  “You sure you want to take me on?” she asked Cobra lightheartedly.

  “I don’t mind losing,” he said. “And it’s fun to watch you play.”

  “Okay.” She moved back to the table, her tone teasing. “But I don’t know how many burgers I can possibly eat.”

  Chapter Six

  Silas was with Brodie on Sunday morning, riding in the passenger seat of the newest West Slope Aviation pickup truck, his bare arm bent out the open window. The truck was a painted bold blue with the white company logo—the letters wsa and a stylized swooping airplane—stenciled on each of the doors. It was by far the nicest vehicle in town.

  The full-sized back seat could carry additional aircrew, but Brodie and Silas were alone today with a ladder, two stacks of roof shingles, carpentry tools and their leather tool belts stored in the box as they zipped their way down the road from town to Raven’s cabin.

  “And now there’s talk of another poker game.” It was clear from Brodie’s tone that he wasn’t about to let that happen.

  Silas was glad of that. He’d have been tempted to shut it down himself this time. “She’d beat them all at pool. As I’m sure you heard.”

  “That made her even sexier,” Brodie said, taking a curve, the back tires doing a controlled slide over the loose gravel, the long wheelbase keeping things smooth.

  Silas clamped his jaw. He sure couldn’t disagree with that. In any other universe, he’d be vying for a date with her himself.

  “It’s stupidly distracting,” Brodie said.

  “So, shut it down.” If Brodie didn’t, Silas might do it himself.

  “I am. I will. Tonight.”

  “Good.”

  They rounded the final bend before Raven’s driveway.

  “Know any details about the roof?” Silas told himself to focus on their job at Raven’s cabin instead of fixating on the fact that Mia would be there in all her enticing beauty.

  “Raven wasn’t big on details.”

  “When I dropped Mia’s bags off I saw four buckets catching drips.”

  “Four?”

  “Maybe more. I didn’t go upstairs.”

  Brodie swung the truck left into the driveway. “She made it sound like it was minor.”

  “Maybe it is, to her. In five years, she hasn’t properly plumbed the bathroom.”

  “I don’t get her.” Brodie parked the truck.

  “What’s to get?”

  Raven was great, a huge asset to the town. She did her job and kept Galina Expediting running with model efficiency, and he told Brodie as much. They could fix her roof and improve her life without psychoanalyzing her.

  “I suppose,” Brodie said as they climbed out of the cab.

  Both of them strapped on a tool belt and loaded it up with hammers and roofing nails.

  Silas lifted the ladder, while Brodie hoisted the two stacks of asphalt shingles.

  As they walked toward the house, Raven appeared on the porch. “Today’s the day?” she asked, looking them over.

  “Coffee on?” Silas asked, since the answer to her question was obvious.

  He’d assumed Brodie had given her a heads up they were coming, but Raven seemed surprised to see them. He planted the extension ladder on the ground and leaned it against the side wall.

  “I’ll get you each a cup.” She was dressed in blue jeans and a bulky sky-blue sweater. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun. Since she never wore makeup, it was hard to tell if she’d just rolled out of bed or had been up for hours.

  Brodie’s gaze followed her as she walked inside.

  “Just going to stand there?” Silas asked him, mounting the stairs. They had to go inside to assess the leaks, plus he didn’t expect Raven to haul their coffee outside like a café waitress.

  It took Brodie a second to react. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Silas mounted the front stairs.

  Even on a sunny day it was dim inside the cabin. It had been built sometime in the fifties, when window size was not a priority. There were a total of five small windows in the U-shaped kitchen and living room, which wrapped around the staircase that led to the loft.

  Raven poured coffee from a battered pot into two white ceramic cups.

  Silas went for them, handing one to Brodie as he took a sip from the other. It was hot, and it was good. The amenities of Raven’s cabin might be archaic, but they produced a great cup of coffee.

  Brodie wandered into the living room. “Four leaks?” he asked Raven, looking around at the bucket locations.

  “Two more upstairs,” Raven said.

  “So, six?” Brodie sounded judgmental.

  “We’ve had a lot of rain lately,” Raven said in her own defense.

  “And how long have you known about them?” Brodie asked.

  Silas moved through the living room toward the staircase, deciding to check on the upstairs leaks and leave Brodie and Raven to duke it out over blame.

  As he pivoted to head up, he nearly crashed into Mia coming down.

  She stared at him in shock.

  He gaped at her outfit, a purple silk negligee with spaghetti straps over smooth rounded shoulders and a white lace cover-up drooping down her arms. The thin silk clung to her perky breasts, and her legs were bare from mid-thigh down. Her toenails were polished the same color as the negligee.

  She slowly pulled a set of earbuds from her ears. “Hi.”

  Silas tried to respond, but he had to clear his throat first. “We’re here to fix the roof.”

  “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  He couldn’t stop staring because Mia most definitely looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, warm from the covers, soft and supple. His gaze went involuntarily back to her breasts, pert and round beneath the thin s
ilk.

  Man, oh man, he was feeling an itch to play poker now—and not just to play, but to win at poker so he could take Mia out on a date somewhere secluded and romantic. Forget shutting the game down. He’d changed his mind about that.

  Her hair was up, messy around her face. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but it didn’t matter. Her eyelashes were thick and dark, her blue eyes sparkling, her skin so perfect and so smooth. He wondered if fashion models received secret face treatments.

  She was staring back, taking in his faded green T-shirt, scuffed canvas work pants, tool belt and his steel-toed work boots. He hoped she was thinking he had a good soul.

  She glanced past him and gave a little nod.

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t thinking about his soul. She was probably wondering why he was standing here like an idiot instead of getting out of her way.

  “Brodie’s here too,” he said, warning her, even though he’d just stood for a full thirty seconds taking an eyeful.

  “Hi, Brodie,” she called out.

  “Hi, Mia,” came his reply.

  Silas waited for her to turn and head back upstairs to get dressed now that she knew Raven had company.

  “I was on my way to the bathroom,” Mia said, taking another step down, clearly expecting Silas to get out of the way.

  The idea of her walking blithely through the cabin like this unsettled him. He supposed she wore outfits like this on the runway all the time in front of audiences in the fashion capitals of the world. But this wasn’t a fashion show. Bad enough that Xavier was hot for her, and that Cobra had laughed and joked with her over the pool game. She’d been wearing jeans and a scoop-necked sweater then, nothing close to what she was wearing now.

  Her bedroom outfit was going to make Brodie’s eyes pop.

  “You don’t want to change?” Silas asked.

  She took another step then looked down at herself. “Why? You don’t like this?”

  It took him a second to find his voice. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She was closer now, only one step above him, and they were eye to eye. She pulled the two edges of lace cover-up together. Somehow that made it worse.

  There was mischief in her eyes. “You’ve seen all you’re going to see, Silas.”