Clear as Glass

by Lynn Kellan

  Struck by how he resembled a burly Prince Charming to her reluctant Cinderella, Jaye stayed put on the bench. “You’re a man on a mission.”

  “Is it working yet?” He pulled her upright and searched her expression. “Guess not.”

  “I can’t believe you googled David. I told you not to dig.”

  He tucked the boots under his arm. “I’ll stop digging if you tell me what’s going on.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “That’s blackmail, Mitch.”

  “How am I supposed to protect you if you won’t talk to me?” Taking her hand in his, he led her to the coat section. “If your ex tracks you down, he’ll show up at my house. I need to know what to expect.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about.” Jaye slid out of his warm grip and slid a finger along the furry hood of a purple parka. “David doesn’t have a bone to pick with you.”

  “Yes, he does. He’ll have a major problem with me when he realizes I’m his competition. Won’t take him long to figure that out. I can’t drag my gaze off you. Even Freddie and Phil noticed.” With a clench of his jaw, he browsed through the coats hanging from a nearby rack.

  Jaye pocketed her hands, wishing she hadn’t heard him admit he couldn’t stop looking at her. Compliments always preceded a request for money, for time, for favors. For a brittle instant, she wondered what he’d ask for. A queasy unease trickled into her stomach. Had Mitch discovered who she really was?

  He pulled a parka off the rack. “This’ll work. It’s thick enough to keep you warm and long enough to cover your hips.” His gaze landed on her thighs and blazed a trail to her face. A red flush crept up his stout neck. “The brown color goes with your eyes. Like chocolate.”

  Was he complementing her to butter her up? After enduring her ex’s empty flattery, she couldn’t take any more. “What do you want? Just tell me.”

  “I want you to smile again.” The corners of his eyes tightened. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m willing to earn everything I want from you.”

  The ragged edges of the wound inside her healed a little bit. For the first time in ages, Jaye knew fact from fiction. “If I had to pick who is the better man, I guarantee David doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

  With a feral smile, Mitch shouldered his way through the sea of puffy coats. “If you keep saying stuff like that, you’ll discover I don’t mind kissing my girl in the middle of a crowded store.”

  “You can’t do that. We’re in the middle of a fight.” Fighting the ridiculous urge to giggle, she backed away from the determined man striding toward her. Bloated ski jackets stopped her retreat. A plastic hanger dug into her back. “Cold silence is more appropriate during an argument. No eye contact. Muttering is acceptable.” She should know. These behaviors formed the bedrock of her parents’ marriage. “No kissing.”

  “Honey, I’m gonna kiss you all the time. Even when we disagree.”

  His warm mouth covered hers. The passionate kiss contained a hint of basil from the hoagie he’d wolfed down at the deli. Tempted to wolf him down, Jaye kissed him back until she was breathing harder than she did during her morning runs.

  He rested his nose beside hers. “That’s how you and I are going to fight, pixie.”

  Drifting a soft caress across his jaw, she glowered. “You glassblowers don’t fight fair.”

  “Darned right.” He nudged the parka into her arms. “Hold this so I can grab a couple of things on the way out.”

  She hugged the coat and trailed behind him, admiring the way his backside looked in a pair of smoke-stained jeans.

  He snatched a pair of mittens, draped a black scarf over her shoulder, and tucked a Buffalo Bills sweatshirt under his arm.

  She laughed. “That had better be for you. No self-respecting Patriots fan would wear a piece of clothing decorated with a blue buffalo.”

  “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Mitch placed their things on a cashier’s conveyor belt and gave Jaye a stern look. “Put away your wallet.”

  “But—”

  “This isn’t negotiable. I’m buying.”

  Even though she had plenty of money, she silenced her protest. Tucking her wallet into her purse, she couldn’t remember the last time someone bought her something. “Thank you, Mitch.”

  “You’re welcome.” He jerked his chin toward the big bags stacked by the doors. “If you’ll carry your stuff, I’ll grab the rock salt.”

  She gathered their shopping bags and followed him to the door. “Wait, Mitch. The rock salt weighs fifty pounds. Shouldn’t we get a cart?”

  “Nah.” He hefted the bag of rock salt on his shoulder and gestured toward the door. “After you.”

  He carried the rock salt into the parking lot like the bag weighed little more than a five-pound sack of flour. Jaye had heard of the term country strong, but never witnessed it firsthand. Impressive. This brawny glassblower was full of fascinating contradictions—able to lug heavy rock salt like a world-class body builder yet capable of plucking a small winter wardrobe out of tangled clothing racks with the skill of a gum-snapping teenaged girl. She grinned upward. “You definitely are an enigma.”

  “How?”

  “You managed to get everything we needed in less than twenty minutes. Your bachelorhood will be short-lived if the women around here discover you can shop.”

  “I have no intention of telling them.” He hoisted the heavy bag of rock salt into the back of his truck and dug a pocketknife out of his jeans. “Put on your coat. I’ll cut off the tags.”

  She tossed the shopping bags into the truck’s cab and slid her arms into the coat. Snow drifted down from the sky and landed on her sleeve. “You got me a warm coat just in time. Thanks, Mitch.”

  “Thank me by not telling any single women you saw plenty when you studied the picture of me streaking.” He zipped her up with a teasing grin. “If they ever hear about my physique, I’ll never have a moment’s peace.”

  “Don’t you want scads of women clamoring for your attention?”

  “No, because they’d all want me to talk about my feelings. I’ll pass.”

  “Perhaps we should buy you a leftover Halloween costume so you can walk around in disguise.” Jaye sized him up with a speculative frown. “I think I saw a cheerleader’s outfit and a vampire’s cape in the store. Either one will work.”

  “I’ll take the cape.” He grabbed her around the waist, burrowing his face into her neck. He nipped the tender skin with an exaggerated growl. “Who knew consultants tasted so good?”

  Jaye laughed at his Transylvanian accent and pushed him away. “Didn’t the hoagie fill you up, Dracula?”

  Big hands reached for her. His upper lip curled, exposing white teeth. “I still want dessert.”

  “Forget the vampire cape. I’m getting you the cheerleading costume.” She climbed into the truck and shut the door. Her neck tingled where Mitch’s teeth scraped her tender skin in his joking attempt to bite her. Smiling, she looked out the window at a nearby lamp illuminating the parking lot. The snow danced in the light like so many pieces of confetti. She might have well been sitting at the edge of a parade in honor of Mitchell Blake. Staying mad at him was impossible when he acted like a Transylvanian goofball.

  Her cell phone chirped. She extracted the phone from her purse.

  The screen glowed with a text from David. “Remember the first time we used my hot tub? I do…so sexy.”

  She glared at the message and hit delete.

  Mitch settled behind the steering wheel and shoved the key into the ignition. A quick glance her way stilled his movements. “What’s wrong?”

  “David sent me a text.” She turned off the phone with a decisive press of her forefinger, tired of her ex’s attempts to draw her into conversation.

  “Block his calls.”

  “I can’t.” A tentacle of hopelessness tightened around her chest. She rubbed her watchband, but the habit didn’t soothe the hurt. “David cheated because I wasn’t enough for him. P
art of me can’t move on until I know why.”

  A pucker formed between Mitch’s eyebrows. He stared for a moment and shifted his gaze to the dashboard. The muscles tightened along his blunt jaw.

  Jaye recognized the look. He reacted the same way on Halloween night after their argument—clamping his molars together in bitter self-reflection. She had a feeling he understood her predicament. After all, his fiancé had cheated on him. Weren’t there times when Mitch wondered why everything had collapsed?

  “Your ex is trying to weasel his way back into your life, Jaye.”

  “I know.”

  He turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life beneath the dented hood. “Around here, men don’t text women to get into their good graces. I can think of a thousand things I’d do to earn the privilege of sharing a woman’s bed.”

  Heat burst inside her, incinerating her misery in a bright white-hot flame. She gripped her hands together so she wouldn’t grip him. “I’m intrigued. How do you get into a woman’s bed?”

  A faint dimple appeared beside the corner of his mouth. He reached across the cab and curled his big hand over her knee. “When I find a woman I want, I buy her a coat.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mitch tossed another piece of wood into the fireplace, but the ritual of building a fire didn’t ease the painful twist in his gut. Ever since he’d warned Jaye that her ex was trying to get back into her life, he felt like his stomach was full of broken glass.

  His insides shattered when she’d responded to his assertion with a simple I know. What did that mean? Did she want David to return? Did she think his texts would reveal why he stepped out on her? Mitch had no idea how to interpret her taut expression whenever the bastard’s name appeared on her screen.

  The irony of her cryptic response wasn’t lost on him. He’d finally encountered someone who shared less than he did. Now he knew why previous girlfriends complained about his stubborn silence.

  He never should’ve confessed he wanted to climb into her bed. Jaye hadn’t said one word the whole ride home. Was she contemplating his offer, or figuring out how to barricade her bedroom door?

  Jaye walked into the living room, derailing his train of thought. He took one look at her long legs in blue denim and nothing else mattered. Put Jaye Davis in a skirt and she looked way out of his league. Put her in a pair of jeans and she became the girl he couldn’t live without.

  She popped a chocolate wafer into her mouth and pointed the bag of cookies his way. “Want some dessert?”

  “No, thanks.” He struck a match, touching the flame to the newspaper wadded beneath the firewood. Orange light curled around the kindling. A thin, gray stripe of smoke rose into the flue. Mitch looked over his shoulder at Jaye and the sharp craving in his gut exploded. “Forget dessert. I want you.”

  She stopped chewing and swallowed.

  The firelight flickering across her face made his breath catch in his throat. He wanted to snatch her phone and delete every man from her contact list. Hell, he wanted to bury himself deep inside her until she couldn’t think of anyone but him. She must’ve seen the thought cross his face, because she pressed the bag of cookies against her perfect chest.

  A flimsy sack of cookies was nothing compared to the potent desire gushing through his veins, but the faint tremble of her slender hands shackled the animal lust inside him.

  “Don’t be scared of me.” The sentiment was exactly what a murderous sex maniac might say right before he dragged his victim into the woods. Mitch gritted his molars, too damned aroused to think straight. He jabbed a finger at the wrinkled cellophane pressed against her breasts. “I’ll have one.”

  Her gaze jerked to her chest. The delicate curves of her cheeks turned pink.

  “A cookie, I mean.” Liar. Heat inched up his neck.

  She smoothed out the wrinkles in the cellophane bag and nudged the dessert into his hand.

  He tossed a chunk of chocolate into his mouth, wondering how to get her to talk again. Might as well ask the question he couldn’t chase out of his head. “If David showed up right now and asked you to leave with him, would you?”

  Her brown eyes widened. “No. Why?”

  A log popped, loud as a firecracker. With a hard yank, Mitch pulled the wire screen across the blazing fire. “I never should’ve looked at the pictures he posted, because I can’t stop thinking about the way you smiled at him. I’m jealous as hell.”

  Her eyebrows rose, disappearing under the long fringe of her bangs. After a moment, she tucked a short brown curl behind her ear. “If David knew what you’ve been doing, he’d be jealous. He never bothered to keep me warm when a storm was about to dump a foot of snow. He never helped wash dishes or let me borrow his sweatshirts or changed my flat tire.” She pushed her forefinger toward the ceiling and broke into a broad smile. “And he never would’ve climbed a ladder to rescue a balloon for a little girl.”

  Whenever he heard her point out what he’d done right, he wanted to carry her into his bedroom to thank her the best way he knew how. Burning hotter than a kiln at full blast, Mitch reached for the slender curve of her waist. Her soft T-shirt felt good in the palm of his hand. “Wait ‘til you see what else I’ll do for you. I’m just getting started.”

  She lowered her gaze and touched his forearm.

  Her fingertips were cool, the perfect antidote to the fire under his skin. He brushed his lips against her cheek. The peachy softness sent a spike of testosterone into his bloodstream, prompting him to nibble on a tender earlobe.

  Jaye shivered. “Th-that feels nice.”

  A stripe of gooseflesh rose down her neck. He chased the small bumps with his mouth, devouring her sweetness.

  She let out a sexy little whimper.

  “Love it when you moan.” He nudged the vee-shaped neckline of her T-shirt, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her right breast. He pressed his mouth to the soft swell and his groin throbbed.

  “Mitch.” She cupped the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair. “I want your mouth on mine. Hard.”

  Red-hot lust ripped through him. He covered her mouth with his, sinking into the soft, moist flesh.

  She pulled him closer—chest to chest, hip to hip, flank to flank. Angling her head, she took control of the kiss, twirling her tongue around his.

  He gripped her hips, savoring the lean muscle beneath his palms. “Lay down in front of the fire with me.”

  “Good idea.” She glanced at the hearth. “The floor will be hard. Shall we find something soft to lie on?”

  “I’m way ahead of you.” He gave her a quick kiss and grabbed his sleeping bag out of the hall closet, shaking out the roll in front of the brick hearth.

  She helped him flatten the thick quilted fabric and sat in the middle, giving him a smile. “We’ve got a campfire and a warm place to sit. Now all we need are marshmallows.”

  He grabbed two pillows from the couch and tossed them beside her. “Sorry, no marshmallows. Would you settle for an aroused glassblower?”

  Her smile broadened. “Only if it’s you.”

  Emotion arched through him. Not only did she make his libido roar, she treated him better than anyone else ever had. She stood up for him at work, prodding his father to listen. She covered his tracks at home when he forgot Halloween. Unlike his ex-fiancée, she cared enough to stand up to him when they fought.

  For those reasons and more, Mitch looked into her eyes and knew he was in serious trouble. He fell to his knees beside her.

  She squinted at the neckline of his T-shirt. “Is that a scar near the bottom of your neck?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled off the shirt, revealing the stripe of puckered skin stretching from his collarbone to shoulder.

  With a gentle touch, she traced the old wound with her fingertips. “What happened?”

  “Brody ran into the street. I stopped him.”

  She frowned, her brown-eyed gaze meeting his. “That’s it?”

  “A truck
clipped me.” He shrugged. “Left a scratch.”

  “A big scratch. How long were you in the hospital?”

  “I didn’t go to the hospital.” Memories surfaced of a small room reeking of disinfectant, the pinched worry on his parents’ faces, and the sickening taste of the plastic tube down his throat. “When I was thirteen, I got meningitis and spent a chunk of time in the ICU. When I got out, I swore I wouldn’t go back.”

  Her exploratory caress stopped. “Sounds serious.”

  “Not as serious as the bruise I got when you poked me in the chest. It’s killing me.” He wasn’t kidding. The memory of angering her made him ache with remorse.

  “Hm. I don’t see anything.” Her fingers stopped midway down the indentation between his pecs. “Is this the spot?”

  He nodded, feeling his heart thump beneath the gentle press of her fingertips.

  Jaye straddled his hips and pressed soft lips against his chest. “Better?”

  “Yeah.” He crushed the hem of her T-shirt in his fist. “Can we take this off, pixie? I want to feel your skin against mine.”

  “Mm-kay.” She pulled the shirt over her head.

  He caught a glimpse of a white sports bra before she hugged him tight. The taut column of her silky abdomen against his felt unbelievably good. He kissed the graceful line of her neck and looked down. The sports bra was low enough to expose the top of her pretty chest. On the rise of her left breast, he spotted a small birthmark in the shape of a star. Sliding his hand between their bodies, he brushed a touch over the star-shaped birthmark and felt his universe rattle. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “I was thinking the same thing about you.” She kissed his mouth and closed her eyes. “You glassblowers are built like professional linebackers. Very handsome.”

  All the punishing hours he’d spent in the gym were worth the compliment. Feeling as though he’d been drugged by some powerful hallucinogen, he felt his world narrow to the woman wrapped around him. With a twist of his torso, he lowered her to the thick sleeping bag and lay half on top of her, mindful to keep the bulk of his weight off the magical creature in his arms.