by Rainey, Anne
Jensen shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe we’re actually considering this.”
Jason rubbed his hands together. “Well, believe it, brother, because we’re about to go into business for ourselves.”
“Cleaning houses,” he helpfully reminded him. “What the hell do we know about cleaning?”
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a sponge, a bucket and some hot, soapy water.” Jason shrugged. “How hard can it be?”
Jensen sighed. “Why do I feel like you’re going to end up regretting those words?”
They spent the rest of the night going over details. Jensen agreed to spend the weekend working up a budget and figuring out how much they were going to need to borrow from the bank. And even though it wasn’t exactly what Jensen had imagined when he’d originally thought of running his own company, he had to admit a certain amount of excitement at the idea that he was finally going to get his chance to shuck the suit and tie.
His cell phone beeped, indicating he had a new text message. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw a name on the screen. Janice, and she’d found his blonde savior. First thing tomorrow morning, Jensen planned to meet her face-to-face. Oh yeah, things were definitely looking up.
Chapter Two
“I’m fine, really. I just caught a flu bug,” Marquetta muttered to her brother on the other end of the cell phone. She locked her Jeep and walked up the driveway to her front porch and fought off another bout of the chills. God, she hated getting sick. In her ear, Axel went on about taking extra vitamin C and getting plenty of rest. Their father had never been in the picture, and Axel had naturally just taken on the role as head of the family. But when their mother died a little over two years ago, Axel had taken on both parental jobs. He was always taking care of her and their brother Gavin. She loved him for it, but right now all she wanted to do was sleep. “I will, I promise,” she muttered. “I’ll call you later.”
On Axel’s orders, Marquetta had left their family’s body shop early, even though she had a Ford F-150 waiting on her to paint a rebel flag down the side of it. Marquetta hated to keep the customer waiting longer than necessary, but there was no help for it this time. As long as she kept coughing up a lung, she was useless at work. She was going to have to take a time-out and recoup, whether she liked it or not.
She loved working in her family’s car painting and detailing business, even though it hadn’t been her number-one dream job. Art had always been her first love. It’d started out as doodling mostly, then she’d gotten into high school, where her art teacher, Mr. Simpkin, had encouraged her to really work on her talent. Eventually that had led to her going to school for graphic design. Those dreams had been shattered in a single moment. One bad decision on her part had derailed her life plan and sent her crawling home, where Axel had set her up in the family business painting artwork on motorcycles and sports cars. She was good at it, even had a reputation in town, but she often wondered what could’ve been.
As Marquetta reached her front door, a sound behind her caught her attention, and she turned to see a man standing at the other end of her porch. In an instant, their gazes connected, and Marquetta was all but swamped with the stranger’s curiosity—and no small amount of desire, if she wasn’t mistaken. It was all there in that single connection. She quickly put a little distance between them and asked, “Can I help you?” But before he could answer, another wave of chills from her raging fever ran through her system. Lovely. This day was turning out to be a real winner.
Jensen had expected for her to be beautiful, but he wasn’t prepared for the immediate rise of heat when he saw her getting out of her Jeep. She’d been distracted by her phone call and hadn’t noticed him waiting at the far end of the porch. Jensen had taken advantage to get a good look at the woman who’d saved his worthless hide.
She had on a pair of tight, faded, ripped-in-the-knees jeans. They emphasized her small, womanly hips and all but begged a man to reach out and touch. A flesh-colored tank top stretched across small, round breasts. Her hair was a riot of golden curls that tumbled down her back. Blondes weren’t usually his thing, but this time he’d be willing to make an exception.
She had the cutest mouth with a full, pouty bottom lip jutting out, and a petite oval-shaped face. He closed the distance between them and reached a hand out in greeting when he noticed her shaking. Had he frightened her? “Ma’am, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m just…” She stopped and closed her eyes tight. “Just not feeling up to par.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She frowned. “Do I know you?”
“Yesterday you saved my life.”
She looked him over, then her eyes widened. “You’re the suit that nearly walked in front of a semi.”
He chuckled. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”
She stepped closer to the front door, a look of apprehension clouding her eyes. “How’d you know where I live?”
“This is going to sound a little strange, but I tracked you down from your license plate.” He quickly held both hands in the air. “I swear I’m not a weirdo or anything. I promise.”
She hesitated before saying, “Seems to me like that’s exactly the type of thing a weirdo would say.”
He could see he was getting absolutely nowhere, and with good reason. He’d shown up on the woman’s porch, for Christ’s sake. A total stranger. What the hell did he think would happen? “Look,” he said, attempting to allay her fears, “I know how this must seem, but I really only came here to thank you. I’d be dead if not for your quick thinking.”
“You’re welcome, but I—” Suddenly, she shook so bad Jensen was afraid she’d lose her balance.
He caught her beneath the elbow. “You’re obviously very sick. Is there someone I can call?”
She closed her eyes tight. “No, really. I just need to lie down.”
“At least let me get you inside,” he offered, but she only squinted up at him as if he had some nefarious plan. “You can trust me.”
A few seconds ticked by before she handed him the key to her front door. Once Jensen had the door open, he asked, “The couch?”
When she nodded, he put his arm around her waist and led her across the room. She collapsed onto it and muttered, “I feel completely ridiculous.”
“Don’t. I’m glad I could help.” Jensen spotted a throw on the back of the couch. He yanked it off and laid it over her, but she still continued to tremble. He sat down beside her and laid his palm on her forehead. God, she was burning up. “You’re really feverish. Are you sure you don’t want to call a doctor?”
“What’s your name?” she asked as she stared at him in wonder. Jensen couldn’t help noticing that she had the most incredible shade of green eyes. Jensen had the crazy notion she could see right into the very heart of him.
“Jensen Kershaw,” he answered. “I work in an office building downtown near where you saved me.”
“Marquetta Hayes.” She smiled and closed her eyes. “There, now we’re not strangers,” she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep, her body still clearly racked with chills. When he started to get up, she whimpered, and a sudden spurt of protectiveness filled him. Jensen sat at the other end of the couch and watched over her.
The sun was going down before her fever seemed to finally break. He yawned and glanced at his watch, surprised to realize he’d been sitting there for a good two hours. She was fine now, and he knew he should leave. Instead, he closed his eyes. Just a few minutes, then he’d go.
Marquetta raised her head, instantly aware of a heavy weight against her calves. She scanned the length of the couch and found Jensen Kershaw. His brawny arm rested on her legs and his head was against the back of the couch. Asleep? He snored, and Marquetta frowned. What on earth? The man was a total stranger, and yet he acted as if he’d crashed on her couch hundreds of times.
Pushing his sexy ass out the door ought to get his attention, but some inner devil stopped her. He was sound a
sleep and completely at her mercy. Tempted beyond reason, Marquetta took the opportunity to look him over. Like, really look him over. Who knew when she would have another chance? Because there was no doubt she’d soon be tossing his gorgeous six-foot-plus frame out of her house and her life. For good.
He wasn’t classically handsome. Jensen Kershaw had more of a rugged, weathered look about him. As if he’d been through the very bowels of hell and had come out with a scratch or two. She took a moment to investigate him further.
His short dark hair framed the rough angles of his face. The five o’clock shadow covering his chin and jawline was sexy as all get-out. Still, it was his mouth that drew her attention. Not even an artist could draw a mouth as lush as his. Not straight and thin, but almost girlish in its fullness. In particular, though, was the little curl of his top lip. Intrigued, Marquetta wondered how a man could come by such a soft mouth surrounded by such a harsh face. In all, his features shouldn’t have worked when they were put together, but somehow on him they did. Very well, in fact.
She drifted her gaze down over his strong shoulders, then his biceps. She noticed a string of tribal tattoos that traveled the length of his arm, only to disappear beneath his shirt sleeve. She wondered if there were more on his chest and was tempted to take a peek. His ripped abs underneath the tight T-shirt didn’t escape her notice either. He was so hard and muscular all over that Marquetta nearly melted right on the spot. But he was a man, which meant he was trouble with a capital T. And too damn good-looking for her peace of mind. But before she could stop herself, Marquetta’s gaze moved south, over the bulge in his faded jeans. He was completely and unabashedly turned on. When her gaze landed on his face again, Jensen was no longer asleep. Instead, he was wide awake and staring at her as if she were lunch. The sneak. Just how long had he been watching her watch him?
“Don’t stop on my account,” he growled.
Well, shit. Marquetta stood and pointed toward the front door. “Leave.”
He got to his feet. “Why?” Jensen reached out and grabbed hold of Marquetta’s hand. “You were just starting to get used to me. Why kick me out now?”
Marquetta tried to wriggle away, but Jensen wasn’t letting her retreat. “Look,” she said, “I appreciate your help, but I’m sure you have better things to do than play nursemaid.”
“Not really.” He shrugged and stepped closer.
More than a little bewildered by him, Marquetta found herself saying, “Uh, okay.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and offered, “Well, in that case, can I get you something to drink?”
Jensen flashed a sexy smile. “Some water would be great.”
He really was handsome, with his chiseled features and…oh wow, was that a dimple? How cute was that? And his eyes, they were the sort of brilliant shade of blue that a woman could drown in. Good Lord, Jensen only had to look at her to get her motor humming. The notion bothered Marquetta a little because she had the feeling Jensen wouldn’t be a very easy man to have around. There was something about him that seemed a tad…primitive.
“I’ll be right back,” she replied as she left the room. She started toward the kitchen, but then thought maybe a quick trip to the bathroom was in order first. When Marquetta turned on the light in her small half bath and got a look at herself, she nearly jumped. “Jesus,” she muttered. Her reflection in the mirror was a rather frightening sight. Her hair stuck up everywhere. Her mascara was smudged, and her nose was so red from blowing it that she could be a stand-in for Rudolph.
“It’s amazing he didn’t run the minute he laid eyes on you.” She groaned. Then again, she’d never been the type to appear graceful under pressure. Whether it was sweating over an exam when she was in college or getting sick, it didn’t matter. Usually she ended up looking like something the cat dragged in.
She turned on the cold water and splashed her face several times. It helped to alleviate some of the puffiness around her eyes. Her hair was way beyond repair, though. She’d need a shower and a hell of a lot of conditioner to fix that pathetic mess. Instead, she grabbed an elastic band off the counter and pulled it into a haphazard bun. “You won’t win any awards, but at least you’re presentable,” she muttered to her reflection before flipping off the light and leaving the bathroom.
As she entered the kitchen, Marquetta opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold bottle of water before calling out, “So, Jensen, do you play nursemaid often?”
“Nope,” he replied from the other room. “Only the women who save me from big, scary trucks get such personal attention.”
As she came back into the living area, Marquetta noticed he was sitting on her couch again, his legs spread out in front of him. As she handed him the bottle, his lips tilted sideways into a lopsided grin. The look hinted at a more playful side to the man, and a zing of pleasure traveled through her as she wondered what ornery thoughts might be in Jensen’s head. No, don’t go there. Bad idea. Men are trouble, remember? Marquetta had learned that lesson the hard way.
Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you thirsty?”
Marquetta walked toward the other end of the couch—ensuring there was plenty of space between them—and sat with her legs tucked beneath her. “Not really.”
Jensen cocked his head to the side and studied her a minute. “You really should drink plenty of fluids,” he said finally. “You were pretty sick earlier.”
“I’m still pretty sick,” she admitted. Her head began gleefully pounding out an annoying drumbeat as proof. “But that’s normal for me. My immune system has always sucked raw eggs. Even when I was a kid, it would take me twice as long to get over a simple cold than the other kids in my school.”
Jensen leaned toward her and pressed a hand to her forehead. It was cool to her overheated skin and soothed her. “You’re still feverish,” he murmured, his voice filled with concern. “You ought to be in bed.”
She shook her head. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. I just need a hot shower.” She paused as an awful thought struck. “I hope you don’t get it. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
Jensen laughed. “I deserve it for walking out in front of that big-ass truck.”
Oh God, he had a sexy laugh. She cleared her throat. “We all get distracted sometimes. I’m just glad it all turned out okay.”
He took one last swig of his water, then put the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Which brings me to the point of my visit. I’d like to take you to dinner sometime.” He winked. “A thank-you for being my guardian angel.”
Whoa, he moved fast. Marquetta couldn’t allow herself to get involved with him. Her life was too much of a mess to add a relationship into the mix. She knew she had to put a stop to…to whatever was going on.
She quickly stood. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He got to his feet, a frown marring his features. “Well, why not? I sort of thought things were going pretty good just now. What happened?”
“In case it escaped your notice, Jensen, I don’t know you from Adam.” Without waiting for any sort of reply, Marquetta walked to the front door and held it open for him. “You can go now.”
Jensen didn’t put up an argument as he crossed the room. When he stood on the porch, he turned and said, “Look, I still feel like I owe you. Let me thank you properly.” He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Dinner, nothing more. You have my word.”
She mentally shied away from the prospect of seeing the big, muscular hottie again. Her defenses wouldn’t be able to handle the assault. “Uh, it was no big deal. Really.”
“You saved my life, Marquetta. At least let me treat you to a decent meal.”
“Not interested, but thanks all the same.” She started to shut the door in his face when suddenly his foot was there, blocking it. She sighed, opened the door a little more and bit out, “This is getting annoying, Kershaw.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you, but I sort of thought that you and I
—”
Oh God, why was it so difficult to say no to the man? “There is no you and I,” she said, wishing she didn’t hope it wasn’t true. “You caught me off guard, that’s all. And your gratitude is duly noted.” She was getting good and irritated. After all, she wasn’t the most pleasant person when she first woke up, much less when she was sick. Her head was congested, and she knew how bad she must look with her red nose and hair all over the place. When he only stood there, staring at her, Marquetta sighed and yanked the door wide, then grabbed the umbrella she kept on a hook and slammed the pointed end directly onto his big toe.
He cursed and quickly stepped backward. “Christ, woman,” he gritted out. “I think you broke my toe.”
“Serves you right,” she yelled as she slammed the door and turned the lock.
Marquetta waited until she was sure he’d left the porch before turning around and peeking out the living room window. As he got behind the wheel of his BMW and drove off, Marquetta frowned. Would he stay gone this time? For some inexplicable reason, a twinge of sadness filled her at the thought.
Chapter Three
She didn’t want to feel anything for Jensen Kershaw. Feelings were dangerous; she knew that all too well. She’d had feelings for Sheldon Fairaday too. In fact, she’d stupidly fallen in love with him. They’d met in college. He’d been her professor, and Marquetta had been starry-eyed over his intense brown eyes and artfully tossed chestnut hair. Sheldon had seemed so worldly to her naïve young heart. It’d only taken a few clever compliments before she was losing her virginity to him. The relationship had lasted six months. Right up until she found out he was married. He’d been clever about concealing the relationship, and she’d been dumb enough to believe him when he’d said he was single. Even after a friend of hers had told her he was married, Marquetta still had faith in Sheldon.
It had all come crashing down the day she’d taken a home pregnancy test. When it came back positive, Marquetta all but ran to tell him the good news. She’d learned the truth that day. Sheldon wasn’t only married but a father to two little girls as well. One month later, Marquetta miscarried.