by Sandy Loyd
“Me? I thought you were cooking.”
“Why? Because I’m the little woman?”
“Well, you are little and you are a woman.” He grinned, letting his eyebrows rise and fall and looking her up and down suggestively.
She snorted. “Funny.” She grabbed something off the shelf and tossed it in the cart. “I never thought of you as a chauvinist.”
“Wishful thinking.” He shrugged, studying the items she’d added to the cart with the precision of a NASCAR auto mechanic. “Just making conversation. I don’t cook. Can barely boil water. Judith isn’t much better, so I was hoping more than anything you could. You have to admit, you look like you know what you’re doing, given all that food,” he said, indicating the basket.
His comments seemed to satisfy her. She nodded. “I guess we can make it a foursome tomorrow night.” She paused, holding a wedge of cheese in her hand, and turned to him. “What do you like for breakfast?”
“Surprise me,” he said, grinning. He picked up the Romano cheese along with some green stuff she’d just placed in the cart and quirked a brow. “What do you plan to make?”
“Something I mastered in my French cooking class and one of James’ favorites.”
“I guess there are worse things than being stuck with someone who actually knows how to make an omelet.” He ignored the glare she sent him and pointed to the eggs in her hand. “I’m perfectly happy with scrambled eggs.”
“Shows you how much you know. I’m making a soufflé.”
“I stand corrected. Soufflé,” he joked, not wanting to think about how following behind her while she pushed a cart up and down the grocery aisles seemed cozy somehow, like they’d been doing it for years. He mentally groaned and tossed the silly thought from his brain.
When she stopped at the coffee bean display, he watched in horror as she haphazardly mixed different beans together into the small bag: first Columbian, then dark roast, and finally Kona, then repeating the process.
“What’re you doing?” he shouted. He reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“Don’t look so appalled.” She threw out an amused laugh as she pulled out of his grasp and continued mixing. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.” When done, she caught his gaze with hers and winked, then added in a teasing voice, “And just to make sure there’s no misunderstanding between us, I’m talking about the coffee, not sex.”
The look and playful words caught him off guard. Out of nowhere, a quick flash of lust hit. Images of her dancing stark naked in front of him invaded his senses, as she stood so defiantly with her hair in disarray and a challenging grin plastered over her face. He swallowed hard, momentarily speechless. Though petite, she had all the right equipment in all the right places to incite anyone’s lust. Heaven help him! Get a grip! This is Kate Winters you’re lusting over. Your brother’s girl.
He pushed away the errant thoughts, but they hung on with a tenacity that clearly suggested he’d been without sex too long. Abstinence was definitely playing tricks on his body.
“I’ll grab some milk and half-and-half.” He did an about-face and headed in the opposite direction, hoping time and distance would cool his overactive libido.
“Get enough for several days for everyone, okay?”
He gave a backward wave and nodded. Thankfully, his self-appointed task gave him the space necessary to bring his wacky mental images under control. He dismissed the unwanted desire as circumstantial.
“Face it, Morrison,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s been awhile.” He sighed, thinking he’d have to rectify the situation. The thought depressed him. He hadn’t dated anyone new in over a year, since Judith started talking about relocating to the city.
Like any male, he had a fairly strong sex drive, but sex was something he could take or leave, given the person he was sharing it with was never Judith. Back when she expected him to date, he honored her wishes, but he never found anyone he was serious about other than Judith—if you could count her as serious. Once the relationship got to a certain point, he’d break things off in an effort to avoid hurting anyone, but invariably too many got hurt anyway. None knew that someone else held his heart. Secretly, he’d hoped that maybe one of them would break the spell Judith held over him. Deep down, he knew he never gave anyone he met the opportunity. Tired of it all, he decided it wasn’t worth another person’s heartache.
Remembering, he sighed. How had his life become so pathetic?
He snatched a gallon of milk, along with a quart of half-and-half, and went to find Kate, determined not to think about her.
He’d just get back to the house without any more incidents and immerse himself in work.
Work always took his mind off his troubles. His thoughts were interrupted when he spied the very woman currently so prevalent in them pushing the cart across the aisle at the other end of the store. He strode in her direction.
“I almost forgot the wine.” Once he reached her, he stuck his items in the basket. “Judith and James like red. I prefer chardonnay, but I’ll drink red if it’s the only thing available.”
“We’re doing a French theme, so make sure both are French wines, okay?”
He nodded and started for the wine section as she headed toward the checkout stand.
Paul walked up as the last item was being scanned and placed the bottles on the belt. They were quickly added to the rest of the groceries and bagged.
When Kate reached into her purse, Paul put his hand over hers. “No way am I letting you pay for this.”
“You paid for dinner,” she said in a firm tone, shaking her head. “Quit trying to be Macho Man and let me buy the food.”
“I really don’t think you want to go head-to-head with me here in the checkout lane.” He ran his MasterCard through the slot and dared her to protest with his stare.
“Men!” She rolled her eyes. “You know we’re quite capable of earning money and paying for groceries without your help.”
He grinned. “Accept the gift and say thank you. As long as I’m present, I’ll never let you pay.” His grin broadened and he amended his words. “Far be it from me to ruin your view of me as a chauvinist.”
“Aargh!” she grunted. “Leave it to a Neanderthal like you to say something so stupid.”
“I do aim to please,” he said, in between chuckles. Kate glowered at him while he signed the sales slip. When done, he looked at her with raised eyebrows, and asked in an innocent tone, “Do you want to help me carry these? I mean, since you’re so into equality.”
“Oh, shut up.” She grabbed half of the bags, turned, and stomped out of the store. His bark of laughter erupted. She was damned cute when annoyed.
At the car, she stopped, then turned, and began tapping an impatient foot. He hit the automatic locks. The lights flashed twice and the locks flipped up. She opened the back door, placed the groceries on the seat, and spun around, almost bumping into him after he’d followed on her heels. He held his ground just to see what she’d do. Since he wasn’t moving, she abruptly snatched the bags out of his hands and stuck them inside the car with the others.
She turned and glared at him. “Do you mind?”
He grinned and backed up. As she slammed the car’s back door, he stepped over and opened the passenger door. “Allow me.” Holding on to his smile, he made an exaggerated bow.
She shook off snow, which was vigorously coming down at this point, and sent him another look that could freeze fire before sliding into the front seat.
Still grinning, he got in beside her.
Neither spoke as he started the engine and pulled onto the highway.
“So is our truce off because I paid for groceries?” he asked after driving a few miles.
She crossed her arms and snorted. “You know why I’m irritated, so don’t try to use those sexy baby blues to get yourself out of it.”
“You think I have sexy eyes?” He batted his eyelids and increased the wattage of his smile. “Ah, shucks.”
/>
“Humph. Don’t read anything into it.” Her steadfast gaze remained glued to the passenger window. “You happen to have James’ eyes.”
Paul stole glances at her while driving. Despite the fact that he hated to be compared with his brother, his smile stayed in place. Yep! He was getting under her skin. He had to admit, he hadn’t expected a simple grocery stop to provide so much entertainment. And this kind of sparring certainly took his mind off sex, which was good.
“It’s really coming down now,” he said, in an effort to draw her into conversation minutes later. The snow was making the road slippery. “Storm must’ve come in early.” He chuckled lightly when she ignored his comment. “Hopefully, the plows will keep up with it so I won’t need chains in the morning. Such a pain to put them on.”
When she still didn’t respond, he sighed, thinking it was just as well. He followed her example and kept quiet for the rest of the drive.
Paul exhaled a sigh of relief as the house finally came into view. He turned into the driveway and pushed the electronic control for the garage door opener at the same time.
“Before you escape my annoying presence, will you help me with the groceries?”
“Sure,” she murmured, before hopping out.
Together they made quick work of the chore. When everything was put away and she started toward the guesthouse, he couldn’t stop from asking, “You wouldn’t be interested in a glass of wine before you call it a night, would you?” No one could miss the pleading in his voice.
When she paused and glanced over her shoulder, he wished he’d never broached the question, especially after spying her torn expression, reading it as clearly as the morning paper’s headline.
“Not tonight,” she replied, offering a wan smile. “I think I’ll turn in. I’m tired. Thanks for dinner and the groceries. It was nice of you to buy, even though you didn’t need to.”
He nodded, feeling both disappointed and relieved by her refusal.
Not wanting to dwell on what that meant, he opened the bottle of wine, poured a hefty glass, and headed to his room. He put the glass on his nightstand, then turned to light the fire he’d laid earlier. The kindling caught and flared, eventually lighting up the bigger pieces. In a matter of moments, the fireplace was ablaze.
Paul stared into the flames as if they held the answers to all of his questions. He felt lonely as reality sank in. He wished with all his heart that things could be different; he was so tired of loving someone who would never return his feelings. The process of letting Judith go from his heart, which had begun a few months ago when he’d discovered he wanted to marry and she wasn’t going along, was picking up speed, like a boulder tumbling from a cliff.
He sighed and turned back to the bed, dismissing his thoughts. They were all too depressing.
He grabbed his briefcase, which he’d left on the floor by the nightstand earlier, riffled through it, and brought out an unread prospectus. Even though his love life was in shambles, he could always find a way to make more money. The realization held little comfort. He took a sip of wine and settled in for an hour or so of reading.
~
Secure in the guesthouse for the night, Kate paced, wishing she had a glass of wine. She needed something to numb thoughts of Paul, of the afternoon and evening she’d spent with him. She didn’t like the fact that she was starting to see him as human—a very appealing, sexy human to boot. She didn’t dare let on about this unwanted attraction. Wouldn’t he have a field day then?
His polite gestures of paying for dinner and groceries bothered her. She didn’t want to be beholden to him…didn’t want to find him nice and considerate. These traits were so opposite to the guy she thought she knew. Nor did she want to compare him to James. James seldom opened her door for her; they’d been together too long for such little niceties. Though he paid on most of their dates, he never balked those times when she offered to go dutch. Besides, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have the hands to open her own door or the money, though in short supply, for her own food. It was the courtesy of Paul’s acts that threw her.
Kate stuck her head out the guesthouse door and listened. A nightlight visible through the patio window revealed no movement. A positive sign, she thought, as she slunk toward the kitchen for some liquid distraction.
Once back in her room with a glass of wine, she fluffed the pillows behind her, hoping to immerse herself in a good book. But as she relaxed on the bed, images of Paul and their time together snuck back inside her brain and wouldn’t budge.
He seemed so cocky and sure of himself. Confidence was definitely a Morrison trait. Paul had a way about him that made him much more attractive than James, which had become more evident in his demeanor during the evening. His quick sense of humor wasn’t always used to enrage. Most of the time, he used it to win over and charm. Kate was one of the few who ever felt the harsh sting of his words. Heaven help her, if he ever turned that charm and humor to disarming her.
The idea of James not being her one and only finally took hold, as her discussion with Paul during the ride to Tahoe filled her mind. She was tired of dreaming for something that may never happen. She didn’t want eight years to turn into ten. Dealing with James and his evasions for so long had nearly done her in, she certainly didn’t want to become entangled with his brother. That would be too much, even for her.
The morning couldn’t come too soon. Skiing would provide the means to keep Paul at arm’s length. Her gaze flew to the big picture window. She grinned, excited to see the snow’s accumulation. Tomorrow would be an awesome day. She could handle skiing fresh powder and she could handle her silly infatuation. James’ presence—and hopefully Judith’s—would provide a buffer, so after one day on the slopes, she’d no longer have to deal with Paul one on one.
Chapter 5
Paul woke the next morning and stretched. He glanced at the clock, noting it was just after six, sleeping in for him. His gaze moved to the window. Darkened shadows were highlighted in white. A grin took over his face at what that meant. A spectacular day of skiing. Fresh powder wasn’t much of a consolation without Judith here to share it with him, but it was better than rain.
Once out of bed, he headed for the bathroom, wondering if Kate would be ready to go by eight. He wanted to be on the mountain before the lifts opened.
After showering, he veered toward the kitchen for a dose of caffeine. Having lived in the Bay Area his entire life, he was one of those who’d been raised on exceptionally strong coffee, the likes of which would grow hair on a turtle shell. His morning ritual always included a cup or two…or three. He rounded the hallway leading from the bedroom. Light poured out of the kitchen.
In seconds, the heavenly smell of freshly ground coffee filled his nostrils. Soon, other smells hit him. He stopped at the doorway and took in Kate standing over the stove cooking bacon. Beside the skillet was a bowl filled with eggs.
He couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was, dressed in body-hugging jeans and a thick burgundy turtleneck. The sweater not only brought out the contrasts in her dark brown hair and fair complexion, it showcased a nice pair of breasts, drawing his gaze. She definitely got his pulse going better than the caffeine he was after. His gaze moved higher when she looked up and smiled.
“Good morning,” she said in a cheerful voice. Eyes full of mischief, she met his questioning gaze, reminding him of what Tinker Bell might look like without wings. “I hope you’re hungry, because I’m making enough for two and I’d like the company.”
“My, aren’t we in a good mood this morning.” He reached past her to grab a mug from the counter and picked up the coffeepot. “I take it you slept well?”
“Yes, I did, and I find even your obnoxious company can’t dampen my spirits.”
He grunted, as he poured. “What’s on the menu? It looks an awful lot like bacon and eggs, and I find I have quite an appetite this morning.”
Her grin expanded. “Well, cool your jets, bucko, because food is a
ll you’re getting. Should be ready in a few minutes. Orange juice is in the fridge.”
He stifled a laugh, amused that she caught his little jibe. “Can’t hurt a guy for trying.”
“You can always try, but I’ve got news for you. Keep it up and you may be hurting, because I’m not so easily led astray.”
“Oh? Is that a dare?” His eyebrows shot up, and he snared her attention, hoping to rattle her, since he was already off-center at the sight of her.
“No. It’s a fact.”
For some reason he had a hard time ignoring her words, tossed out with such moxie. He didn’t want to be attracted to her, nor did he want to find the idea of leading her astray intriguing.
Shaking his head at the very idea, he laughed. “Touché, you win. It’s too early to start the contest of wills this morning. At least wait until I’ve had some coffee.” He took a sip of the hot brew. Eyebrows raised, he held up the cup and admitted, “This is good.”
She grinned. “I told you you’d like it.”
Her attention went back to cooking, while Paul tried not to notice her cute derrière. But his eyes wouldn’t listen to his mental chiding and he kept stealing peeks. He sighed and took another sip of coffee. It was going to be a long day.
“It’ll be ready soon.” She nodded toward the silverware drawer. “Why don’t you set the table?”
Thankful for the diversion, he jumped to do her bidding. He damned well didn’t need thoughts of Kate’s butt roaming through his brain.
~
In minutes, Kate had everything ready. She handed Paul a plate and they sat at the table he’d set.
“This is delicious,” Paul said, after eating a few bites. “I appreciate the effort. Thanks. It’s always nice to have a hearty meal before a day of skiing.”
She felt a rush of heat spread from her neck to her hairline, pleased as much by his praise as by his appreciation. “I enjoy cooking.” She shrugged, ignoring the hum of awareness that surrounded them all of a sudden. “It’s just as easy to make enough for two as it is for one.”