Her tools packed neatly into the truck, she turned to him with a work order on a clipboard. “Just sign right here, Dr. Bradford, and you’ll be billed for the service. You can call the electric company now and have your power turned back on.”
“Dr. Bradford?” he quizzed her as he signed the work order in an illegible scrawl that befitted his occupation. Autumn had never met a doctor who could write anything readable. “You called me Jeff earlier.”
“Did I?” she murmured vaguely. “Well, goodbye. Thank you for calling Brothers Electrical Company. Give us a call if you need anything else.” Her customary recitation concluded, she turned to the truck, intending to leave without further delay.
Jeff, however, had different intentions. “Will you have dinner with me this evening?” he asked her, surprising them both. He hadn’t intended to ask quite so abruptly—he wasn’t even free that evening, he remembered wryly—but when she’d started walking away with such finality, he’d spoken almost without thinking. Now he decided that if she accepted, he’d just call Julian, his partner and buddy, and cancel out on the poker game. Julian would understand. Jeff really wanted a chance to get to know this interesting woman. There was just something about her that he found fascinating.
Autumn wasn’t particularly surprised that he’d asked. Not after the past couple of hours. What did surprise her was that she found herself suddenly tempted to accept. Not that she had any intention of doing so. Something about Dr. Jeff Bradford made her nervous, somewhat unsure of herself, and Autumn Reed wasn’t accustomed to such feelings. Above all, she liked being firmly in control of herself. No, Jeff was too overwhelmingly attractive, too unpredictably charming, too…well, too something. Besides, she already had a date that evening with a man who was amusing, attractive in a less spectacular way, and much more manageable. “Thank you for asking, but I already have plans,” she told him after a brief pause, keeping her voice deliberately distant.
Jeff shrugged almost imperceptibly and backed off. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” he told her.
“Maybe,” Autumn agreed, climbing into the cab of the pickup. Her tone was not encouraging.
“Goodbye, Autumn.”
“Bye, Jeff.” She closed her door with a snap and drove away.
Some fifteen minutes later Jeff replaced the telephone in its cradle, having been assured that his power would be turned back on within the hour. He roamed aimlessly into his den, dropping moodily onto the heavy wood-framed couch, its deep cushions sinking beneath his weight. So you struck out, he told himself, disgruntled. It wasn’t a first, though he couldn’t actually remember the last time. Jeff was no womanizing playboy, but then, he’d never had much trouble getting a date, either. Of course, he rarely came across like a thick-skulled, inarticulate chauvinist, he added with an audible groan, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. No wonder Autumn had turned him down.
For all he knew, she was heavily involved with someone. She could even be married, though she hadn’t worn a ring. But then, she hadn’t worn any jewelry at all. Forget her, Bradford, he ordered himself sternly. She’s just not interested.
He shoved himself off the couch, determined to do just that.
JEFF WASN’T GRINNING when he opened his door two weeks later, but Autumn suspected that he was holding it back only with tremendous effort. “You called for an electrician?” she asked him coolly, eyeing him with suspicion.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” he replied, just a bit smugly. “Please come in.”
Her suspicions increased. “First tell me what you need done so I’ll know what tools to bring.”
“I need an additional outlet in my den,” he informed her.
She repressed a sigh and nodded. “Okay. Hang on a minute.” She turned abruptly and headed back to her truck.
Jeff followed, of course, and had her toolbox out before she could even reach for it. She totally ignored him. Outwardly, at least. Inwardly, she was vitally aware of every inch of him in his thin blue sweater, which hugged his torso and made his eyes look even bluer, and his slim-cut jeans that left little to her imagination. She hadn’t forgotten the effect he had on her. Which was why she intended to stay well over an arm’s length away from him while she finished this job in record time.
Autumn tried not to look impressed by the interior of Jeff’s house, but it wasn’t easy. It was beautiful. Professionally decorated, she was sure, but comfortable and inviting. He’d chosen to ignore the usual wicker-and-palm-tree or pseudo-Spanish styles popular in the area and had decorated in a rustic Southwestern theme. Autumn recognized the many examples of Seminole artwork scattered with studied casualness throughout the house. The Seminole Culture Center on Orient Road had been one of the first sights she’d visited after moving to Tampa almost a year earlier.
“This is where I’d like the outlet,” Jeff told her, indicating a section of white-painted Sheetrock wall in his den.
She studied the wall. “No problem, but you have a receptacle just a few feet away from there,” she pointed out.
“It’s not convenient. To plug in the vacuum cleaner I have to crawl behind that chair,” he replied.
Plug in the vacuum cleaner? She wondered how often he performed that particular operation himself. “You could move the chair.”
“I like it where it is,” he answered with a bland smile. “Do you want the job or not, Autumn?”
She shrugged. “It’s your money.” Frowning, she examined the grin that had finally broken across his gorgeous face. “I suppose you want to watch me work?”
“If you don’t mind.”
As if it mattered whether she minded or not. She sighed and tried one more ploy to get him a bit farther away from her. “Don’t you doctors ever work?”
“Thursday’s my day off,” he answered genially.
“Then your meter loop was blown off on a convenient day, wasn’t it?” she murmured, remembering that she had met him on a Thursday. Two weeks ago today, she thought. She refused to dwell on how often she had thought of him during those two weeks.
He shrugged, an obvious imitation of her. Autumn glared at him and started to work.
It was the last time all over again. Jeff hovered around her, helping whenever she’d let him, chatting with her whenever she’d bother to answer. It was apparent that he was going out of his way to charm her. And, dammit, she thought glumly, after he’d unexpectedly made her laugh out loud at one of his quips, he was doing it. She found she had a definite weakness for Dr. Jeff Bradford, a weakness that she had no intention of indulging. Despite his many attractions, she had learned her lesson about getting involved with charming, old-fashioned males. Five years earlier she’d broken her engagement to a very nice man who had tried and failed to break her rebellious spirit. She’d never regretted that decision.
“Almost finished,” she announced, tightening the screws on the plastic outlet plate.
“This is going to be very handy. Thanks.”
“You paid for it.” She stashed the screwdriver in her pouch as she stood and pulled the hem of her jeans from behind the tab at the heel of her gray nylon-and-suede jogging shoes.
“How was your date?” Jeff asked unexpectedly.
Autumn lifted one dark eyebrow. “What date?”
“The one you turned me down for two weeks ago,” he reminded her, watching her closely.
“Oh.” She’d almost forgotten that date. It had been quite forgettable. She’d thought about Jeff all evening, which had not put her in the best of moods for the amusing, attractive and manageable man she’d been with. “It was fine.”
“Will you go out with me tonight?” Jeff asked immediately.
She’d been expecting an invitation this time and had decided in advance that she was going to turn him down. But doing so was even harder than it had been the first time. Deep inside she liked Jeff Bradford. She knew she’d have a good time if she went out with him. She also knew that it would only take a touch from him to smash her norma
lly formidable willpower into quivering blobs. And that was a dangerous, sobering realization. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Tomorrow night?”
When had he moved so close to her? Autumn looked straight up into his eyes as she declined again. “No, I…” Since when had her voice ever been breathless and fluttery? she asked herself in disgust. She cleared her throat and spoke more firmly. “I can’t,”
He took another step forward. “Saturday?”
There seemed to be a short developing in her breathing apparatus. Her breath was coming in uneven little jerks, growing worse in direct proportion to Jeff’s increasing proximity. She swallowed and stepped back, only to find herself backed against the arm of the massive chair they had discussed earlier. “No, thank you,” she managed.
“Should I keep asking?” he inquired gently, lifting his hands to take her by the forearms, steadying her when she would have stumbled against the chair.
“No, you…you needn’t bother,” Autumn answered with a firmness she found somewhere deep inside her. Finding his bright blue eyes too mesmerizing, she dropped her own gaze to his chest, only to find herself staring in admiration at the glistening V of tanned skin exposed by the neckline of his sweater. A nest of dark curls lay there, looking soft and all too tempting.
“Is there someone else?” Jeff persisted, bringing her face back up to his by way of a gently insistent hand beneath her chin.
Becoming annoyed, she lifted her chin further to avoid his hand. “There’s not anyone else specifically. I’m just not interested in going out with you, Jeff.”
“Mind telling me why?”
“You don’t take rejection very well, do you?” she asked irritably. His Southern-gentleman image was slipping. “The truth is that I’m not attracted to you,” she lied, almost expecting lightning to zap through the ceiling. “Now will you let go of my arms?”
“In a minute.” His hand returned to her chin, tilting her head back further. “First I want to check something out.”
She parted her lips to answer, only to find them covered firmly with his.
She had known it would be like this. Had known, and had tried hard to avoid it. The kiss was explosive, his touch the catalyst. Match to fuse. Gasoline to flame. Man to woman.
His tongue swept the inside of her mouth. Autumn moaned, but she could not have said whether the sound was one of pleasure or protest. She was afraid she knew, especially after he lifted his head to draw a deep breath, then lowered it again without one ounce of resistance from her.
The second kiss was just as powerful. Pressed closely together from chest to knees, Autumn was as aware of her own physical response as she was of Jeff’s. Things were getting entirely out of control, she thought with some distant, still-sane portion of her brain, even as her recalcitrant hands flattened hard against his back. His image of polite gentleman had definitely altered.
It was Jeff who finally broke the kiss with obvious reluctance. He stepped back a few inches, his chest rising and falling rapidly, face slightly flushed, hands still gripping her arms through her long-sleeved knit shirt. “You want to try again?” he asked, his voice husky, his blue eyes glinting with what looked suspiciously like amusement and something else that Autumn had no need to analyze.
“Do I…what?” she asked, her own voice raw.
“You said you weren’t attracted to me. Now we both know that’s a lie, so I wondered if you wanted to try another excuse for not going out with me,” he elucidated.
Autumn stared at him for a moment, her temper rising, then jerked herself out of his grasp, almost falling over the armchair behind her before catching her balance and whirling away. “You…you egotistical male,” she hissed, snatching her cap up from the floor where it had fallen. “I said I don’t want to go out with you and I meant it. I don’t need an excuse.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do,” he murmured.
Autumn glared at him through narrowed eyes, deciding that if he let loose the smile that he was obviously struggling to hold back, she’d throw something at him. How dare he laugh at her loss of temper? She took a deep breath, hid behind a facade of icy professionalism and grabbed her clipboard, holding it out to him in a curt gesture. “Sign this,” she ordered, making no effort to be pleasant.
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, lips twitching as he scrawled Dr. E. Jefferson Bradford across the bottom of the work order.
“I’ll be seeing you around, Autumn,” he called out to her as she climbed angrily into the cab of her pickup moments later.
“Not if I can help it,” she muttered, slamming the door. She was well aware that he stood in his driveway watching her until she was completely out of his sight.
2
“OKAY, JEFF, WHO IS SHE?”
Jeff blinked and frowned questioningly at the woman who stood before him, determination written on her impish face as she faced him with her hands on her well-rounded hips. “Who’s who?” he asked.
“The woman you’ve been mooning over all evening,” Dr. Pamela Cochran answered flatly. In a chair across the room her husband, Bob, chuckled as he rocked his infant daughter to sleep.
Jeff glared at Bob and turned a melodramatically fierce scowl on his partner. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told her haughtily.
Pam laughed in disbelief. “Sure you don’t. Come on, Jeff, I know you. Who’s the woman, and what did she do?”
“Okay, I got shot down when I asked a woman out. Twice,” Jeff answered resignedly. “There, are you happy?”
Bob made a loud choking sound, startling the tiny bundle dozing in his arms. “You struck out?” he demanded avidly. “Will wonders never cease!”
Jeff flushed, his frown deepening as he glared at his two best friends. “Knock it off, Bob. It’s not like it’s the first time someone turned me down.” The discussion was strangely reminiscent of his one-sided conversation two weeks earlier, after Autumn had turned him down the first time.
“Yeah? So when was the last time?” Bob inquired perceptively.
Jeff muttered the answer he’d finally come up with after asking himself the same question that other time.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” Bob insisted.
“Eleventh grade, all right?”
Bob laughed. “That’s about what I thought.”
Pam shook her head repressively at her husband. “And we all know that one explanation is that the man doesn’t ask enough to face the usual percentage of rejection,” she summed up concisely. “We’re talking about the man Julian likes to call Dr. Monk.”
“Most men are monks compared to Julian,” Bob muttered when Jeff only snorted. “Jeff’s just more concerned with quality than quantity, aren’t you, buddy?”
“Since when are you two so interested in my love life?” Jeff asked them with rueful exasperation.
“Since you barely touched my special shrimp with snow peas, which happens to be your favorite Chinese dish,” Pam retorted. “Only a woman could make you lose interest in shrimp with snow peas. So who is she? Do I know her?”
Jeff shook his head. “I just met her a couple of weeks ago. Her name is Autumn.”
“Autumn what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Pam said slowly. “You don’t know.” She sat beside Jeff on her couch, staring at him with round brown eyes. “How’d you meet her?”
“She was the electrician who worked on my house when the storm knocked my service out. She came back yesterday to install an outlet in my den. I requested her specially yesterday, for all the good it did.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Bob asked, “You asked your electrician out for a date?”
“Yeah. But as I said, she turned me down. Flat.”
“And to think while I was trying to take care of my patients at the clinic, you were flirting with a pretty electrician,” Pam complained, her eyes sparkling with the enjoyment of teasing her co-worker. “Serves you right that
she turned you down.”
“I acted like an idiot the first time I met her,” Jeff moaned, touching his hand to his forehead. “Stuttered, stared, generally acted the fool. I wasn’t much better yesterday, though I did manage not to stutter.” He decided not to mention those kisses that had been almost as unexpected for him as for her. “She probably thinks I’m a not-very-bright chauvinistic jerk.”
“Chauvinist? You? Hardly,” Pam denied indignantly. “You’re old-fashioned in some ways, but only the nicest ways,” she added. “What was she…one of those women who gets insulted if a man simply opens a door for her?”
“Your Georgia accent is getting heavier, darling,” Bob murmured, not quite successfully hiding his smile.
“I’ll bet that’s it. She was a Yankee, right?” Pam inquired. “Used to Northern men who walk out of elevators first and open doors only for themselves.”
Jeff chuckled, his bad mood slipping away. “She’s from Arkansas, Pam. No need to drag out your Rebel flag. She just isn’t interested in going out with me.”
“Then she has no taste,” Pam proclaimed loftily. “Or she’s involved with someone else. Did you ask?”
“Yes. She said there wasn’t anyone else in particular.”
“Then what was her problem?”
“Give me a break, Pam. The whole ordeal was bad enough for my ego without rehashing it. Couldn’t we change the subject?”
Pam tugged thoughtfully at a curl of her frizzy brown hair. “Did I mention that we’ve got several fluorescent lights acting up in the clinic?” she asked finally, referring to the relatively small stucco structure the three young doctors had purchased when they’d first gone into partnership. There were advantages to owning their own building, but there were also many responsibilities—maintenance among them. “I think we need to call an electrician.”
“Pamela,” Jeff drawled warningly.
She widened her eyes in feigned innocence. “Well, we do,” she insisted. “We can’t take proper care of our patients with the lights blinking on and off.”
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