by Annie Rains
“Thanks for coming,” she said, looking sheepish. “Come on in.”
He stepped past her with his overnight bag and watched her lock the door behind him. “Whose bike is that outside?” he asked.
“That’s why I called. We have our first guest,” she said, offering a wobbly smile.
“Is that the reason you asked me to spend the night with you?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Well, spend the night at the inn. Not…with me.” She looked away. “I guess having someone arrive tonight took me off guard. I might need your help cooking breakfast in the morning.”
“I usually get here early enough to cook breakfast with you,” he said.
“I know.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your mom.”
“Don’t worry about that. She can take care of herself.” Or so she kept telling him. At least she’d agreed to call and make a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. “I don’t mind staying tonight if it’ll make you feel more comfortable. It’s not a problem.”
Kaitlyn nodded quietly. “Thanks. I was just having a glass of wine before our guest arrived. Want one? Or a beer.”
“A beer would be great.” He followed her to the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools at the center island, watching as she bent into the refrigerator to retrieve the beer. His eyes unintentionally fixated on her curves from behind. Soft and inviting.
That kiss they’d shared earlier tonight kept playing on a continuous loop in his mind. He’d been nowhere near sleep when she’d called.
Kaitlyn closed the refrigerator, retrieved a glass from the cabinet, and carried the items back.
“You were drinking alone before the new guest arrived?” he asked. “Nightcap or is something bothering you?”
She pushed his can across the counter and poured herself a deep glass of wine. “A little of both, I guess.” Her gaze hung on his. Something dark passed across it. He’d gotten good at recognizing the darkness. “If it had been a couple or a single woman, would you have asked me to come over tonight?” he asked.
Averting her gaze, she shook her head. “Probably not.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a woman not wanting to stay alone in a house with a man she doesn’t know. Except now you’re sleeping under a roof with two men you don’t know.”
She looked back up at him. “I know you.”
He liked that he’d won her trust. “There’s another reason you wanted me to come tonight. You don’t have to tell me what it is if you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know I understand what it’s like to run from things.” He reached for his beer and took a drink. “Sometimes it helps to talk to someone.” Not that he’d ever talked about the accident that had paralyzed Brian Everson.
“There’s not some big secret in my past, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“But there is something eating away at you. I get that you’re excited about inheriting the bed and breakfast but a person doesn’t just drop their entire life and move if they’re happy where they are. I assume you had a home, friends, a job.”
He could almost see her considering whether she was going to open up to him. Fidgeting with her hands around her wineglass, she lifted a shoulder. “Growing up, I used to redecorate my bedroom every couple of months. I’ve always loved making places feel happy. Or energetic. Sad. It’s always kind of fascinated me that you can walk into a room and have your entire mood change.” The corner of her mouth twitched in not quite a smile. “So, when I went to college, I knew exactly what I wanted to study. And I always knew exactly which design firm I wanted to work for. Beautiful Designs is the most well-known interior design firm in New York City. They work with some of the richest and most famous in the area. My friend Josie had done an article on the firm’s owner. She pulled some strings and got me an interview with him. That’s how I found myself working with Bradley Foster.”
Mitch blinked. “Bradley Foster, the movie star?”
“That’s the one.” She looked away as she continued. “I thought Bradley saw something special in me after he looked at my portfolio. Talent. He said he loved my designs. It was a dream come true. Then he started needing me to stay late at his vacation house. I was flattered, I guess, because he turned down the other more experienced designers. He said he only wanted me.”
Mitch was already jumping ahead of her story, putting the pieces together, and feeling an angry blaze erupt in his belly on her behalf. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, the muscles tightening uncomfortably in his jaw.
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “No. He was more aggressive the last time I worked with him though. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. If not for the interruption of his cleaning crew, I’m not sure he would’ve stopped. I tried to tell my boss at the design firm the next day but Bradley had already called to complain about my inappropriate behavior. He also threatened to press charges against me for assault.”
Mitch lifted a brow questioningly.
“My knee might have bumped him in a sensitive area before I ran out.” Her cheeks flushed a deep rose color. “My boss didn’t want to believe me, probably because Bradley Foster is one of the business’s biggest clients. I was fired, and now my reputation is ruined. Once you’ve worked for the best, there’s only one way to go in New York, and that’s down.” She reached for her glass and took a sip. “My firm also won’t give me glowing references for any other jobs. I’m sunk.”
“That’s despicable,” Mitch ground out.
She released a sincere laugh. “Yeah. I can drink to that.”
“Want me to beat Bradley Foster up?”
Kaitlyn eyed him curiously. “Something tells me that’s not an empty offer.”
“I don’t make empty offers.” And part of him wanted to get in his truck and drive to New York regardless of what she wanted from him. A guy like Bradley Foster needed to be taught a lesson before he found himself alone with another woman who wouldn’t be as lucky as Kaitlyn.
“No. And I wasn’t running when I came here. I could’ve stayed in New York and searched for another job. Or got in the unemployment line. Truthfully, I haven’t felt inspired by my work in a long time. For Bradley, I designed a living room and a kitchen. I’d picked the colors and the theme based on his personality, which I got to know a little too well. Before that,” she said, frowning, “I’d worked on restrooms and boring boardrooms, where I had zero creative liberty. When I found out that I had inherited this place, it felt like fate. Like at the exact right time, my grandmother had opened an amazing opportunity that I couldn’t say no to.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to get comfortable with having attractive single men staying here with me.”
He thought she was talking about him until she gestured upstairs.
“I mean, he’s probably a nice guy,” she added.
Mitch blinked. She was talking about the new houseguest. Mitch hadn’t laid eyes on the guy yet, but apparently he was alone, attractive, and probably a nice guy. That sounded like bad news to Mitch. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to,” he said, feeling equal parts protective and suddenly jealous.
“Thank you. That means a lot. And you’re right. It does help to talk to someone. If you ever need me to return the favor…”
He swallowed and looked down at the beer in his hands. Not a chance. Some burdens weren’t meant to be shared.
* * *
Kaitlyn stared at the ceiling in her bedroom. Mitch had the Beauty and the Beast room right above her—fitting because he had that beastly, untamed quality about him, and she was itching to run her fingers through his mane.
She squirmed under the heavy quilt on her bed. Her room was the only one in the house that had yet to be named. She guessed that was all right since it wasn’t for guests. She didn’t need a themed room.
Blinking, she tried to make sense of the shadows along the wall. She’d spent so little time in here that she didn’t have the floor plan memorized yet. When she’d been a child, she’
d been terrified of the shadows. Now the main thing that scared her was failing.
Okay, the thought of coming face-to-face with Bradley Foster again was a little scary too. She didn’t care if she ever saw another of his movies again.
Sitting up in bed, she decided to get a glass of water to quench her post-wine thirst. She slid her feet into a pair of slippers. Gah. She was going to town tomorrow to buy something a little more attractive and less old lady–like than flannel pajamas and slippers. And it had absolutely nothing to do with either of the men currently sleeping upstairs.
Doing her best to be quiet, she shuffled across the kitchen floor and swung open a cabinet. Then she grabbed a glass and carried it to the sink.
A soft knock on the wall behind her made her whirl around.
“Hey.” Paris was standing at the edge of the kitchen in a black T-shirt and holey pair of jeans. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She appreciated the knock. Mitch usually just appeared out of nowhere, like Casper the sexy ghost. “You didn’t. Do you need something?” she asked.
“I thought I’d see if I could get something to drink.”
She pulled a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve left a glass in your room with bottled water and complimentary beverages. I’m a little new to this B and B host role.”
“It’s no problem.” His smile was slow and easy.
“Have a seat. I’ll get you a drink.” She grabbed a second glass from the cabinet and then turned to look over her shoulder at her guest. Muscles popped from his fitted undershirt. “Water okay?”
“That’s fine. Anything to wet my palate…That sounded strangely inappropriate, didn’t it?”
Kaitlyn laughed nervously as she filled the glasses. “Well, now it does.” She slid his in front of him.
“Thanks.” He took the water and drank.
She did too, keeping one cautious eye on him. “So, Paris, what do you do for a living?” she asked, taking the stool across from him.
“Graphic design. I’m self-employed,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Really? That’s awesome.”
“Yeah, I’m not really one for rules and dress codes. Plus, I can pretty much work from anywhere.”
“Will you be working while you’re staying here?” she asked.
He nodded. “I have a few projects that need finishing.”
“Well, we offer free Wi-Fi. The code is in your welcome packet upstairs. I’ll try to place any other guests who arrive at the other end of the hall so they don’t disturb you. If you’re planning on staying, that is.”
He set his glass on the counter in front of him. “Thought I’d stay through next week if that’s all right.”
“Of course.”
They talked for a few minutes more, and then Paris waved good night and headed back to his room.
That wasn’t so bad, Kaitlyn thought. She’d enjoyed talking with Paris and he seemed like a nice enough guy. Tomorrow, she’d tell Mitch he didn’t need to stay another night on her account. Not unless he wanted to, which of course, he wouldn’t.
* * *
The room Kaitlyn had given him was fitting because Mitch felt like a beast right now. He didn’t like this wild, crazy feeling consuming him. First, he hadn’t been able to sleep after what Kaitlyn told him about her former client. Mitch wanted to meet that creep in a dark alley, give him an old-fashioned shakedown, and leave him in one of the dumpsters where he belonged. Second, he’d walked up on Kaitlyn and the new guest in the kitchen. They hadn’t noticed him, of course, because they were too busy laughing like old friends. And maybe they’d been flirting a little bit too, which left Mitch unnerved. Not that he had any claim to Kaitlyn. One kiss didn’t mark her as his. One kiss that never should’ve happened in the first place. Except now it kept repeating itself in his mind. That was the third reason for his insomnia.
He lay back on the king-size bed in his room. He wouldn’t be able to go to sleep until he heard the stairs creak and knew that Mr. Muscle Head was back in his room. Alone.
Mitch blew out a heavy breath. If Kaitlyn wanted to join Muscle Head in his room, she could. She was a grown woman. She’d asked for Mitch’s protection tonight though, and he didn’t like the idea of another strange man’s hands on her body. Or his mouth on her sweet-tasting lips.
The top landing creaked.
Mitch’s ears pricked. There was just one set of footsteps heading down to the opposite end of the hall. Muscle Head was alone, and Kaitlyn was still safe and sound, and presumably tucked into her bed alone downstairs.
Mitch massaged a hand over his face because now he was thinking of her alone in her bed. Thinking of all the things he wouldn’t mind doing to her in that bed. Stripping off those flannel pajamas that were unreasonably sexy. Touching her soft skin. Giving her another kiss, or two or three.
He cursed under his breath. This just might be one of the longest nights of his life.
* * *
Mitch awoke with a start and looked at the clock on his nightstand. Eight a.m. He’d slept in for the first time in ages. He lay in bed and let last night come streaming back. He was at the Sweetwater B&B. Kaitlyn was downstairs, and there was a guest here that she found hot.
That got him out of bed. He flung his legs over the side and started reaching for his clothes. They didn’t know anything about this new guest, and the whole point of Kaitlyn calling him here last night was so she wouldn’t have to be alone with the guy.
There was the sound of kitchen clatter downstairs. Mitch pulled on a shirt and some pants and then jammed his feet into a pair of shoes and headed in that direction.
“Hi.” She turned and offered him a bright smile as she cleaned up the dining room table. “Paris has already had breakfast,” she said. “And I didn’t do so bad with those made-from-scratch biscuits on my own.”
“Paris?” Mitch asked.
“That’s our guest’s name. He went back to his room. I have leftovers if you want some.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite right now.” Not after learning that Kaitlyn and Paris had shared a nice breakfast alone. Probably flirting. Mitch hadn’t even met this guy yet, and he hated his guts already.
“Okay.” She grabbed several items from the table. “Do you mind helping me get those plates to the dishwasher?”
“Sure.” He grabbed the dishes and followed her. He’d never been a jealous man, and he didn’t like the feeling. She dipped and placed the dirty dishes in the washer and then reached back and retrieved what he was carrying. “Thanks.” She straightened. “Guess the room I put you in was satisfactory?”
“Yeah.”
“Good to know. Well, don’t feel like you have to stay again tonight. It was silly of me to be afraid yesterday.” She looked away. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He did. She was thinking of her would-be attacker. A guy unworthy of his fame and fortune.
“I don’t mind,” Mitch said. “And I think I will stay another night.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I said I don’t mind.” He wanted to make sure Paris (and what the hell kind of name was that?) kept his hands to himself.
“Great. Then you can help make our new guest feel at home. He said he’ll be staying through next week.”
“Love to,” Mitch lied. Making people feel at home wasn’t exactly his forte. He was only doing this because he wanted to protect the woman in front of him, he told himself. But that was partially a lie too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kaitlyn pulled the magazine out of the mailbox on Monday and hugged it against her chest. This was it! Josie had only come up with the idea a short while ago and already it had become real. She pulled the magazine away and started reading the cover as she hurried back toward the B&B.
“Walking and reading is a dangerous sport, you know?” Mitch said, sneaking up on her as always. She only jumped a little this time. She guessed that meant she was getting used to his presence. But
her breath froze in her lungs when she looked up. She’d never get used to those hot chocolate eyes or that barely there grin buried under a short, sexy beard.
“It’s here,” she said, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “The article about Sweetwater Springs.”
“Oh yeah?” He stepped closer to read over her shoulder.
“America’s Most Romantic Holiday Retreats,” he read, his breath tickling her ear.
She swallowed and stepped away from the large, beautiful man who was making her heart beat in triple time. “I’m going to go inside and have a hot apple cider. Want some?”
He gave her a strange, amused look. “Mable was always forcing that stuff on me during the fall and winter months. Not my cup of tea, you might say.”
Kaitlyn climbed the steps, aware that each one put her butt at his eye level. She climbed more quickly. “I found my grandmother’s secret recipe tucked away in one of her cooking books the other day. It’s actually very simple to make. And once I have a cup in hand, I plan to read this article until I have it memorized. Then we’re going to finish fulfilling its promise.”
“Oh, we are, are we?”
She glanced over her shoulder. His teasing tone matched the look in his eyes. She was glad he wasn’t fighting her on this anymore. He’d done everything she’d asked and more, and they already had one satisfied guest. Paris had ventured out this morning to work at Dawanda’s Fudge Shop, per her recommendation. “Yes, we are.”
A few minutes later, with her cup of hot apple cider and a notepad in hand, she leaned over the article on the kitchen counter. It was mostly a fluff piece, painting a picturesque town, which wasn’t an exaggeration by any measure. Sweetwater Springs did have beautiful rolling mountains and natural hot springs that could be found by a simple hike through the pine-filled woods. She hadn’t seen the springs yet but they were in the brochures on display at the B&B’s front entrance.
Her gaze moved from the article to Mitch’s lower half. The rest of him was currently hidden behind the refrigerator. He was fixing a slow leak from a loose water line to the ice maker. She’d checked out his backside before but now she stared unapologetically.