Unfinished Dreams

by McIntyre, Amanda

  Gabe crossed his arms over his chest in a final great sigh. With his long hair plastered to the sides of his head, he resembled an ancient warrior and a disgruntled one at that.

  He shook his head. “Nice has nothing to do with it.” Glancing from her gaze, he stared at the sky. “You just beat all I’ve ever seen.”

  “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one on the roof in a thunderstorm.” She smiled, lifting her chin in defiance.

  He leveled a pointed look at her designed to intimidate, she was sure, but it aroused her.

  “So, do I get that fire?”

  “You are persistent.”

  “Well I tend to be until I reach a compromise, anyway.”

  “Which in this case, would be?” He laughed, smoothing his long hair from his face.

  She noted the drier curls, mesmerized by how they dipped under his ear laying against his muscular neck.

  He stopped, openly staring back at her and she blinked, pretending to have something in her eye.

  “I’ll stop asking as soon as you give me a straight answer about the fire.” She noted the quick sparkle of challenge in his eye.

  “The chimney’s ready anytime you are.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, pinning her with his dark gaze.

  Oh, hell yes. Tess forced her thoughts elsewhere, but felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

  They stood in a core of awkward silence as the early fall storm raged around them.

  “Maybe this a good time for lunch?” She tugged at her flannel shirt, pulling it from away from her wet body. “Just as soon as I make a quick change.”

  “Fine. I can just come back in an hour or—”

  “Don’t be silly,” she interrupted. “I have enough to feed an army. Come on.” She held open the door surprising herself at her bold behavior.

  “You’re sure?” He asked as he brushed by her through the door.

  Rain mingled with his manly scent caused a pleasant shiver to skitter to her core. “Well,” she shivered with a laugh, “I suppose that largely depends on your appetite.” She followed him through the door and he suddenly faced her, capturing her with a gaze she knew she should pull away from, but couldn’t.

  “Oh, I’m hungry, believe me.” His gaze lowered to her mouth and traveled slowly back to her gaze.

  She felt lightheaded. For an instant, she held her breath, as she envisioned his lips crushing down on hers, satisfying his hunger—and hers. Tess swallowed in hope of retrieving her voice. She forced her gaze from his hypnotic stare. Images of other scenes in front of the fireplace danced in her head. “You can clean up in the bathroom. It’s just past the cookies—”

  “Yeah, I remember.” He grinned and backed against the wall as she walked past.

  “I’ll just get lunch ready.” She backed down the hallway, holding his amused gaze, trying to ignore the charged air between them. “Oh!” She startled herself as she bumped into the doorframe.

  He walked past her, their bodies passing so close she could feel the heat of the space between them. Don’t stop. Please just keep walking. She held her hands behind her and stared at the floor on purpose, breathing only when he disappeared around the corner.

  Tess closed her eyes and sighed when she heard the bathroom door click shut.

  Chapter Seven

  Gabe was going to have to keep his wits about him when it came to her. He realized that it was getting more difficult to do each time he was around her. Her soft smell and infuriating stubborn streak was about as much as one man could handle.

  The man whose goal, by the way, was getting back the very farm that the woman in question lived on, he reprimanded himself mentally.

  He scrubbed his forearms, and scanned the bathroom, noticing how she’d re-wallpapered and added frilly hand towels and potpourri. Lathering the soap over his face and neck, he wondered if this meal was part of her effort to impress him. Every morning he’d been here, she’d had fresh coffee and a cheerful attitude.

  He splashed his face with tepid water. Okay, he reasoned with himself, he’d only been here two days tops, but what about the dance at the bar? Hadn’t he felt something there as well? Then she runs out, risking life and limb to help him put his electrical tools away? How many women would do that? Though the sight of that lightning bolt hitting the field near her, scared him half to death, he had to admit, the woman had grit—which might make his situation a little more complicated.

  He dried his face, the petite blonde in the next room notwithstanding, it felt good to be back out here, working to fix up the place, being where he belonged on the land that rightfully was his.

  Gabe flipped the peach towel over the wood towel rack, promising that one of these days, he’d have his life together and be able to take back his property. With any luck, he’d do accomplish that without hurting Tess in the process.

  Tess. She was feisty and headstrong, sensual in an innocent sort of way. Had she come along at a better time in his life, he might have toyed with thoughts of expanding their relationship beyond business and closer to something personal. “But this isn’t a good time and that’s the point,” he muttered to his reflection. Frowning, he decided the best thing to do was to keep things between the two of them as strictly business as possible.

  When he rounded the corner from the hallway, every good and decent intention sailed clean out the window.

  She’d removed her denim shirt and wore only a pale pink tank top. He quickly deduced that it matched the glimpse of the underwear he’d seen earlier, which was now clearly evident by the dip in her waistband as she leaned over scrubbing her hair with a towel.

  Gabe scrambled for every ounce of polite integrity he could muster as his eyes all but rolled out of their sockets.

  She straightened and turned suddenly to face him. The faint blush of her cheeks was from the blood rushing to her head, he was certain.

  “Sorry, I was drying my hair quick.” The need for explanation was unnecessary. The bashful smile and the nonchalant shrug connected to parts of him he’d just as soon not tamper with.

  “Uh, is there anything I can do to help?” His concentration was skating somewhere between the loaf of French bread on the counter and the faint line of pink lace peeking above her shirt. Not that he was ogling, but he did notice that all aspects of her fit together quite nicely. Not that he was looking seriously. Because now wasn’t a good time.

  “You could slice this for me, if you wouldn’t mind?” She handed him a bread knife and stepped to the stove.

  He skirted in behind her, his belly pressed as close as he could get to the counter. Now he understood why he’d rarely seen anyone but his mother in this kitchen cooking. There was barely room for one person.

  He kept close to the counter as Tess skittered around him. She didn’t seem the least bit nervous and he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Still, he was glad she’d lost that look of fear he’d seen in her eyes earlier on the porch. He just knew that no matter how tantalizing her skin smelled or how incessantly she chatted about every soul in town, it was important to stay emotionally detached.

  Gabe glanced over his shoulder and the sight of her reaching into the oven nearly caused him the loss of a finger. He turned as she straightened, hoping she hadn’t seen him gawking.

  Placing the thick slices of cottage bread in the bowl she provided, he turned; bowl in hand, as she also turned holding the Dutch oven with two potholders.

  He caught the panic in her eye as the pan slipped.

  Tossing the bread to the countertop, he caught the handle and her hand at once. His gaze froze to hers for a moment and to his relief, she smiled. The pan wasn’t the only heat between them.

  “Close call.” He smiled congenially.

  “Fast hands,” she responded with a bright smile and her cheeks flushed a pale crimson.

  A minute, an hour, maybe an eternity passed as they stood there smiling like idiots at one another.

  Gabe wasn’t sure which of them broke the spell, but he was dam
n sure something more than culinary skills was happening between him and the city slicker.

  * * *

  They ate in silence, seated across from one another at the kitchen table. The steady rain pelted the roof sounding like pebbles on tin. Tess glanced at the quiet man across from her wondering so many things about him. Most of which, she had a strong suspicion he didn’t wish to discuss.

  “So, Gabe?” She pushed around a dumpling as she stared at her plate. When she summoned the courage to glance up, she slammed into his steady gaze. “Uh, do you have any other family around here?” Was that too personal? She chewed her lip hoping she hadn’t brought up a difficult subject.

  He focused on his plate and shook his head no. “Nope, I’m an only child. Both my parents are gone now.” He peered over his glass of milk as he drank over half its contents. He wiped his mouth on the napkin and resumed eating.

  Closed subject.

  Maybe it was time to change topics, lighten things up a bit. She got up, intent on pouring him another glass of milk.

  Stepping from the table, she opened the refrigerator door and spoke loud enough for him to hear. “So did I ever tell you about my short stint as a beautician?” She hoped a little levity would pull him from his silence. Cautiously, she peeked over the edge of the refrigerator door.

  “Is that a hint about my hair?” He glanced at her with a wry smile.

  Tess shrugged, “I don’t know. I’d be happy to cut it for you if you like.” She brought his glass back to the table and slid it across to him. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for all your help around here.”

  He took the glass from her, not looking up.

  “The thought kinda scares you, doesn’t it?”

  His lips curled up in a grin a moment before he popped another dumpling in his mouth. “You cutting my hair a scary thought? Hmm…let me think…yep, I think it does.”

  “I have a very steady hand and I’ll have you know, that I almost graduated at the top of my class.”

  “Almost? That part worries me.” He stuffed a piece of roast beef in his mouth, “This is delicious, by the way.”

  “I cut hair as well as I cook.” She was baiting him, she knew, but she’d come to enjoy his company and if nothing else, she wanted to be his friend. She didn’t dare allow her thoughts to go further, even though they danced at the edge of her brain.

  His gaze rose to hers, those dark espresso eyes sparkled with mischief.

  Tess expected a snappy comeback. Instead, he smiled.

  “I guess it’s been awhile since I had time for a haircut.” He leaned back in the chair and gave a loud contented sigh.

  “Well, it’s your choice of course, but you won’t get a better haircut for the price.” She stood and began to gather the lunch dishes. Her experience with people was to help them see it was okay to let others help them once in a while. But they had to make the decision themselves in order for it to be cohesive to both parties.

  “Uh…thanks,” he tipped his head and narrowed a curious gaze at her. “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t trust me?” She glanced over her shoulder and caught him tapping his fingers to the table. “You afraid of me, cowboy?”

  He smiled, but his gaze focused to the kitchen table.

  “Look, I don’t mind really. I sometimes do my friends’ hair.”

  The skepticism was evident on his face. “How many would that be?”

  His gaze pierced her and she had to refocus her thoughts.

  “Besides, why didn’t you finish school?”

  Tess crossed her arms and leaned against the cabinet. “ I went in to it as an interim between deciding what to do with my life and other things. And for your information, I have more than one or two friends who trust me with their hair, thank you.”

  He sighed and she suspected he was weakening.

  “I’d insist on giving you something.”

  She headed past him toward the living room, her mind flirting on various options of repayment. “Tell you what, if you don’t like the way it turns out, then you owe me nothing.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.” His low-timbered voice spoke from the kitchen, reminding her of her own words.

  She pretended not to hear him and went about putting in a fire to stave off the chilly, damp afternoon.

  “What are you doing?” He joined her a moment later, in the living room, propping his shoulder against the doorframe.

  “I’m starting a fire. Isn’t that why you cleaned it?”

  He straightened as she twisted the newspaper and lit the end.

  “Uh, yeah, and I trust you’ve checked to see the flue is open?”

  Tess tucked the burning paper between the dry logs, and glanced at him with a raised brow. She looked back, pleased to see the fire, mesmerized at the crackling flames and the sudden snap of seasoned wood. A moment later, she started coughing as a gray billowy cloud rolled over her into the living room.

  “Omigod,” she choked out the word as she turned on her belly and tried to slither under the smoke to get away. She gasped as she felt her body being jerked up and over Gabe’s shoulder. In a daze from the soot and smoke, she was amazingly aware of the grip of his hand on her backside. Before she could make sense of where she was, he flopped down her into the porch swing like a rag doll, and disappeared.

  She coughed the residue smoke from her lungs and fought not to rub her eyes raw from the sting. Through her watery gaze, she noticed great clouds of smoke blowing out through the front door and the living room windows. Dear lord, he surely didn’t go back in there?

  “Gabe?” she yelled, wobbling on unsteady legs to the door just as he pushed it open.

  “Stay there. I’ve got this—”

  The wood screen door smacked her square on the nose. She stumbled back as a streak of pain made a beeline between her eyes.

  He caught her by the hand, and pulled her back to the porch swing. “You aren’t very good at following instructions.”

  “I was concerned. Where did you go?” She held her nose as she squeezed her eyes to the fierce tingling in her face. “Oh man, that hurts like a—”

  “Hey, someone had to get the flue open.”

  He looked her as though she was touched in the head. His gaze softened. “Here let me take a look.” Gently he brushed her hand aside and gently touched her nose. “I think you’ll live.”

  “It hurts.” Her voice sounded deep and nasally. “Is there any damage inside?”

  “Your nose? I’m not a doctor but I doubt it.” He studied her face with greater intensity.

  She blinked a couple of times, to clear her eyes, and realized what he’d said.

  “Inside?”

  “Oh, you mean inside?” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “oh, nothing that a couple of loads of laundry and a can of air freshener can’t handle.” He looked over his shoulder. “I think we managed to catch it before there was too much damage. The smoke is almost clear.” He turned back with a smile, but it faded to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He held her chin with his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face from side to side, as he studied her nose.

  “Just my pride.” She offered a weak grin.

  His thumb rubbed gently across her chin. It seemed they’d both stopped breathing. There was a chance it was residual smoke. For some inexplicable reason Tess thought of Smokey the Bear—”Remember kids, where’s there’s smoke there’s fire.”

  “I best go check on that fire. It should be safe now to get a proper fire going.” He dropped his hand and went inside leaving Tess with her stomach quivering like a herd of caterpillars.

  “Lord, it’s anything but safe around you cowboy.” She muttered and winced when she touched her nose.

  “You want to check the flue each time, before you start a fire.” He pointed out the obvious once again to Tess. She caught his humorous expression.

  “I suppose you’re a volunteer fireman as well?” She knew the answer before he r
eplied.

  “It’s something they need every able body for around here.”

  She wasn’t about to touch that statement, instead she blurted out the next best thing. “I could tell by that nifty over the shoulder maneuver.”

  “You liked that, huh?” His grin was purely ornery, much too raw for her weakened state.

  She winced again as a pain shot over the bridge of her nose.

  “How’s the schnozz?”

  Tess covered the object in question, with extreme embarrassment. “I’ll probably have a big old bruise there, won’t I?”

  His response was a sympathetic grin. “Maybe a black eye.”

  She nodded. “That’s what I thought. Okay, listen I promised you a haircut.”

  “Seriously, if you’re not feeling up to it just now.” he called from where she’d left him in the living room.

  “Some brave firefighter,” she smiled, though it was more of a grimace. She lifted her finger as she ducked around the corner to the kitchen, mentally trying to remember where she’d placed her hair trimming scissors. Finding them in her designated junk drawer, she grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and gingerly molded the bag over her nose.

  “Are you going to take it out on my hair for hitting your nose?” he called from the other room. “It was an accident you know.”

  She chuckled as she walked through the small entry from the kitchen into the living room. “I don’t know abo—” Her heart skidded to a slippery halt.

  He had his shirt pulled halfway off. Underneath he wore a ribbed tank that accentuated his broad chest and wide shoulders. He was solid muscle bronzed by the sun, a proverbial lonely girl’s fantasy standing before her.

  A shiver rippled through Tess as she watched her private strip tease. She blinked once or twice, reminding herself that to walk one needs to place one foot in front of the other.

  “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” He tugged his arms from the sleeves, completely unaware of what he was doing to her. Or did he? He folded his shirt with leisurely care as he glanced at her.