Clear as Glass

by Lynn Kellan

  Closing the last few inches between them, he gave her one last instant to say no. He owed her that much after she’d rescued him today, but the scent of sleep on her warm skin and her adorable messy hair were irresistible. He touched his mouth to hers. She tasted like vanilla, sweet as the cookies she kept on the kitchen counter. The shy way she returned his kiss erased every crack in his bad day.

  He buried his hands in her short, soft hair. Holding her like a precious chalice, he slanted his mouth across hers. When he slid his tongue into the slick sweetness of her mouth, he felt the ground crumble beneath him. He was falling headfirst, accelerating into an uncharted abyss. How much would it hurt when he hit the ground?

  The instant she twined her arms around his neck, she stopped him from crashing into the rocky shards of rebuff.

  Mitch felt a twist of triumph. There was nothing better than having Jaye Davis cling to him. Nothing.

  Elated, he alternated between soft, loving kisses and carnal open-mouthed making out. No matter what he did, she kissed him back with equal fervor.

  Most of the people in his life took from him, whether it was his time, his money, or his patience. Not until this fey pixie landed on his doorstep had someone given back, and a powerful flare of emotion incinerated the guilt holding him captive for years.

  The taste of her breath made his body prickle with sexual arousal. He couldn’t remember wanting a woman as much as he wanted this one. Kissing the soft underside of her jaw, he grazed his lips along the graceful column of her neck.

  She tilted back her head and let out a soft whimper.

  The sexy sound launched his libido into the stratosphere. Capitalizing on the discovery Jaye liked having her neck kissed, he pressed his hot mouth on the arch of her throat while he burrowed his hands under the fleece sweatshirt. Underneath, she was wearing one of her running shirts. The slick fabric fit tight against the sexy plane of her abdomen. He memorized every perfect curve and wondered how far she’d let him go.

  In a rare spurt of optimism, he mentally sifted through the contents of his nightstand drawer for the remote chance he might have a condom. If he managed to find one under the books and papers, the latex would be dry and brittle with age. Making love would have to wait until he stopped by the drug store tomorrow.

  Jaye pushed his shoulders. “We can’t do this.” She scooted off the couch and stood, wide-eyed, her hand pressed against her lips. “We work together. We live together. And soon, we won’t see each other again.”

  Searing pain shot down his neck into his chest, throbbing close to his heart. Dazed, he launched off the couch. “Never see each other again? What do you mean?”

  “I start a new job in two weeks. Please, Mitch. We can’t be more than friends.”

  “Why not?” He grasped her upper arms so she couldn’t bolt. “Where will you be working?”

  “Far from here. I won’t have time for anything, or anyone.” She spread one hand on the center of his chest.

  His heart threatened to pound out of his ribcage to fall into the small well of her palm. “This new job you’re starting—who hired you?”

  “My father. He finally asked me to join the family business” She stepped out of Mitch’s hold. “Eventually, Dad will ask me to run the show. I’ve got a lot to learn before then. You, better than anyone, know the sacrifices a family business requires.”

  For the past few years, he’d sacrificed more than he gained. The thought of Jaye going through such upheaval made his insides splinter. “Running a business can tear apart a family. I hope your father treats you with the respect you deserve.”

  “Me, too.”

  Mitch caught a flicker of grief in the depths of her extraordinary eyes and covered her hand with his, pressing her palm against the jagged rhythm of his heart.

  “I’m sorry.” She drew away. “Goodnight.”

  Speech left him, muffled by a heavy layer of heartache. He balled his hands and watched Jaye walk toward the hallway leading to her bedroom, her head bowed and her shoulders slumped. She looked as lonely as he felt.

  Up until now, his goals were simple—expand the business and chase every consultant out of Blake Glassware so they couldn’t ruin his professional life.

  He never expected a consultant to blast his personal life to smithereens.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For the first time since she moved in with Mitch, Jaye walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but a black satin slip. She was counting on the morning air to invigorate her after she’d spent most of the night staring at her bedroom ceiling.

  Not convinced she could eat, she reached into a cabinet for a bowl. The hem of her slip tickled the top of her thighs.

  “Good morning, Jaye.”

  She whirled toward the sound of Mitch’s voice.

  He stood near the pantry, dressed in a pair of jeans and a red Blake Glassware T-shirt.

  “You’re supposed to be at work now.” She glanced at his feet and realized he was wearing socks. No wonder she hadn’t heard him.

  “I wanted to talk to you before I left.” His eyes dipped to the neckline of her slip. A faint smile tilted his mouth. “Doubt I’ll make much sense while you’re wearing that nightgown.”

  Jaye’s fingers tightened around the cereal bowl. “I’ll get dressed.”

  “Don’t bother. This won’t take long. We need to set up some ground rules.” He crossed both arms over his chest. “I’ll keep my hands off you at work. When we’re at home, I’ll back off whenever you go into your bedroom. Everywhere else is fair game, because I intend to spend the next two weeks convincing you to get as close to me as possible.”

  The cereal bowl slipped out of her hands and clattered to the floor, spinning like a lopsided top on the linoleum. “No. Dating isn’t a good idea.”

  He raised one brow. “Tell me why.”

  “Because I’m moving to Syracuse.”

  “That’s only three hours away.” The muscles bunched along his jaw loosened. “When you said we wouldn’t see each other again, I thought you were about to relocate overseas.”

  “Not yet, anyway. I’ll spend my first few months chained to a desk.” Once she was imprisoned in her father’s high tech cell, she’d feel light years away from this place, this man.

  The prospect of not looking into Mitch’s solemn blue eyes sent a stab of panic into her sleep-fogged mind. She tried to memorize every nuance in his gaze.

  “Jaye, do you expect me to ignore what’s going on when you look at me like that? I can see the heat in your eyes, and all I want is to come over there to kiss you.” He took a step toward her. “Let me.”

  “The last time I dated someone I worked with, everything went wrong.” Her heart still hadn’t healed from that bruising.

  He kept coming toward her. “Your contract ends in two weeks. After that, work won’t be an issue.”

  “But distance will.”

  “The drive to Syracuse is a piece of cake. Hell, I’m willing to drive twenty-four hours just to see you for one.”

  Hope played ping pong with her pulse. “You will?”

  “Yeah.” He braced one hand on the kitchen counter and tilted his head so that three short inches separated his nose from hers. “I’m nuts about you.”

  His voice was a delicious rasp, thick with want. She bit her bottom lip, all-too-aware of what could go wrong if she gave in. “I’m not sleeping with anyone I work with. It’s not smart.”

  “Fine. For the next two weeks, we’ll steer clear of my bed.”

  Admiration poured from his gaze. Heat radiated off him, chasing away her chill. The tender tilt of his incredible mouth was too tempting for her own good. “Mitch.”

  “You have no idea how good my name sounds coming out of your mouth.” He brushed his knuckles down her bare arm. “Help me, Jaye. I haven’t slept more than three hours for the past three nights. All I do when I lie in bed is think of you. Let me get close. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is break your trust.”

/>   She held her breath. For the first time in her life, she’d encountered a man who wasn’t after her money or her father’s connections. He wanted her.

  What a powerful aphrodisiac.

  “You won’t touch me at work?” she clarified, thinking how difficult getting anything done would be if Mitch could kiss her at the factory.

  “I’ll keep my hands off you when we’re at Blake Glassware. When we’re home, I won’t go anywhere near your bedroom. That part of the house is yours.” His big hand touched hers, a thumb stroking her skin in a gentle back and forth motion. “The rest of the house is ours.”

  She heard the promise in his words. He’d do everything in his power to protect her while he tried to seduce her. A surge of joy propelled Jaye to wrap her arms around his wide shoulders.

  He pulled her against his body so there was no space between them and tucked his mouth near her ear. “Does this mean yes?”

  “Yes. Please.” She cupped the back of his warm head and pressed a smile against his cheek.

  He claimed her lips in an open-mouthed kiss and hugged her tight, nuzzling her neck. “For the record, you don’t have to keep your hands off me when we’re at the factory or anywhere else.” His hand slid down her back, fingering the satin slip. “Do you always sleep in stuff like this?”

  “Sometimes.” Her nipples puckered beneath the thin fabric, and she wondered if he could feel the hard points jutting against his chest.

  Mitch pulled back slightly, his gaze roaming the dip of her neckline, her face, her mouth. “You’re beautiful. Like a little pixie who wandered in from the forest.”

  “Must be the short hair.” She was unused to such undisguised tenderness. His affection felt a bit dangerous, considering how much she wanted it. Feeling her face heat, she lowered her gaze in the hopes her long bangs would shield her blush from his scrutiny.

  A cell phone chimed. Mitch groaned and leaned his forehead against hers. “Tell me today won’t be as crazy as yesterday.”

  Jaye grinned. “It’s almost seven. Freddie is probably wondering where you are. Normally, you’re at work by now.”

  “And you’d be jogging.” He stroked her back, resting his hand near the base of her spine. “I’ll work like hell to convince you to run to me.”

  The husky pledge had the same effect as a potent narcotic, washing away Jaye’s pain. This rugged glassblower made her feel valued, wanted, longed for—emotions she had never felt so deeply. She tilted up her mouth to brush a soft kiss against his mouth.

  Arms muscled by years of lugging heavy bags of silica into the factory wrapped around her waist. His kiss turned ravenous, picking up exactly where they left off last night.

  The cell phone chimed again. Jaye tilted a breathless smile his way. “You should check that message. The factory might fall apart without you.”

  “This had better be important.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and nestled her within the circle of his arms so they both could see the screen.

  The text was from Freddie.

  Are you okay?

  Mitch kissed her cheek and typed, Never better.

  Freddie responded right away. Something is wrong with the lehr.

  “Duty calls.” She squeezed the hard band of his forearm and stepped away, sweeping her bangs out of her eyes.

  He stayed put, staring at her as though the last thing he wanted to do was leave.

  Sadness pulled through her, cold as the linoleum under her bare feet. Now, his business yanked them apart—a temporary setback. In two weeks, her business would yank her two hundred miles away. For good.

  “Don’t think about leaving,” he murmured, his deep voice hoarse. With a powerful lunge, he wrapped an arm around her waist and cupped her jaw. “Think about the next two weeks. Here. With me.”

  Mitch dropped a brown take-out bag on the kitchen counter. “I found your contract this afternoon.”

  Jaye rubbed her watchband, trying to interpret the stony set of his jaw. She reached into a cabinet for two plates and placed the plain white dishes gently on the counter as though any sudden movement might shatter the china. “You sound angry.”

  “I need an explanation. From what I read, you’re working for free.” He unzipped his blue coat and braced his hands on his hips. “Why did you agree to such ridiculous terms?”

  “I’m not working for free. Blake Glassware will pay me when there is an increase in sales.” She noticed the red flush creeping up from the ribbed collar of his red T-shirt and knew he didn’t believe her.

  “According to your contract, we won’t pay you if profits remain the same. Did Nick mention our bottom line hasn’t changed for the past two years?”

  She knew Mitch was perturbed when he called his father by his given name. “You’re mistaken. Nick didn’t come up with the terms. I did.”

  “You volunteered to work for nothing?”

  “No, I took this job with the understanding I’d be paid later.” She grabbed two drinking glasses, her shaky fingers knocking the two goblets together with a hollow clang.

  “Forget it. I want to change the terms of your contract. Blake Glassware isn’t some penniless beggar looking for a handout. We’ll pay you when you finish the job.” He reached into the paper bag and thudded a carton of food on the counter. “You won’t have to wait for your money.”

  A penniless beggar. Mitch’s pride was at stake, but she thought about the pile of bills he tackled yesterday and didn’t want to add her invoice to the pile. “No, Mitch. The whole point of my work is to boost your sales. I don’t deserve to get paid if you don’t see results.” She shrugged and admitted, “Besides, I don’t need the money.”

  “You don’t need the money? Never heard anyone say that before.” His keen eyes surveyed her gleaming black heels, navy blue skirt, silk blouse, and zeroed in on her gold watch. “I can’t think of a single person who can work for a month and not get paid.”

  Oops. Admitting she didn’t need the money was a huge tactical error. Stalling for time, she opened the dishwasher and the handle fell off. Snatching the piece of black plastic off the floor, she jammed it into the slot and retrieved two clean forks. “I have money socked away in savings, so I can get by. I wanted to cut your father a break, because he took a risk when he hired me. Usually, I write code and develop marketing tools behind the scenes. This is the first time I’ve worked directly with a business.”

  He jammed a hand through his thick blond buzz cut. “What are you up to?”

  Anger inched up her spine. She tossed the forks onto the counter. “I’m not up to anything.”

  He snorted. “Either you’re filthy rich or you have an agenda. Which is it?”

  “Filthy rich?” The pejorative term sent a sharp pain into her chest. Unwilling to stand there while he threw accusations, she strode into the living room.

  Heavy boots clomped behind her. “Where are you going?”

  She turned and snarled, “Is this because I’m a consultant? Would we be having this stupid conversation if I were a glassblower? Or an accountant?”

  “Doesn’t matter what job you’d taken at my factory. I’d still want to know why you’re working for nothing.”

  “This was the only way I could get experience working directly with a customer. But if you’re determined to pay me, fine. Cut a check for what you think I’m worth.”

  His index finger pointed to the gold watch on her wrist. “You’ve got enough money to work for free, you dress like you belong in New York City, and I can’t get you to say more than two sentences about the ex-boyfriend who’s looking for you or the father you’ll work for. What’s going on?”

  Ah. Her reluctance to open up about her private life bothered him. But throwing accusations at her didn’t compel Jaye to reveal the painful reasons why she ended up in this remote little town. She yanked the hem of her blouse out of her skirt, but the band of tension around her middle remained. “I feel sorry for all the consultants who walked into your factory before me, because
they had no idea you’d interfere. I just want to do my job, which isn’t easy with you standing in the way. ”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” Mitch opened his arms wide and stared with narrowed eyes. “Name one thing I’ve done to stop you from doing your job.”

  “I need pictures of glassblowers working in the studio. You won’t let me take any.”

  “For safety reasons, Jaye. My men are working with 2,400 degree glass. I need to keep distractions to a minimum.”

  “I already told you I won’t use a flash, but you won’t let me inside the studio no matter how careful I am.” Frustration raced through her veins, powerful and potent. “You don’t want me to take pictures because they will become part of the website. How strange, considering the online store will help your company.”

  “How the hell do you know what’s good for my company? Were you here fifteen years ago laying the brick for the walls? Do you know how to do every single job in the building?” Scowling, he jabbed his forefinger toward her. “What gives you the right to claim any sort of expertise for the business I’ve built from the ground up?”

  “I don’t know how to do your job, Mitch. I just want to do mine.” Ever since she arrived in Shinglehouse, her efforts on behalf of Blake Glassware hadn’t satisfied Mitch. Would she never please him, just like her father? The possibility threatened to crack her in two. “Nick believes in me. Why don’t you talk to him and see why?”

  His hands balled into two tight fists. “Talking to my father won’t solve anything.”

  “You two are partners. If you don’t start working together, your differences will fracture the factory.” With angry flicks of her fingers, she unbuttoned her collar.

  Mitch’s gaze dipped to her throat and jerked up again. “My father and I have hardly spoken for two years and the factory is still standing.”

  “Coincidentally, your profits haven’t risen over the past twenty-four months.” She arched her brow. “Clearly, Blake Glassware’s stagnation has been caused by the strife between you and your father. A lowly consultant can see that. Why can’t you?”