Close Contact

by Lori Foster

  Great. He really needed to do some research. Getting details in drips and drabs wasn’t working for him.

  As neutrally as he could, Miles said, “Yeah? Doing what?”

  “He’s a receptionist.” She made a face and added, “Gary is pretty. He looks good in a boutique joint that caters to other pretty people.”

  Jealousy subsided. “Pretty, huh?” She said it with enough disdain to make him laugh.

  “Yeah. Some would call him handsome—but not as handsome as you.”

  Miles said nothing to that.

  “He’s tall, too.” Then she quickly added, “But not as tall as you.”

  Semi-amused, semi-annoyed, Miles said, “He’s a cheater, so we can kill the comparisons, okay?”

  Chagrined, she nodded. “I’m just wondering what I ever really saw in him.”

  Yeah, Miles was wondering that, too.

  Lower, she added, “I guess I thought he was elegant. Very stylish, trim, impeccable dresser. And far, far different from the first guy I cared about.”

  “You were younger then.”

  “And obviously dumber. Gary comes off as sophisticated and...” She shrugged with the truth. “More acceptable to my family.”

  Miles soaked that in. So she still wanted their approval, did she? Just not enough to disregard her grandma’s wishes. “Do you think your sister would tell him where you are?”

  “Who knows what Harlow might do? She’s annoyed enough with me to want payback.”

  “So she knows you two split?”

  “Yeah. She couldn’t believe I’d end a relationship over one ‘indiscretion.’ She thought I should give him another chance.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “My thought exactly. But if she did tell him, he hasn’t shown up here.”

  “Or,” Miles said with emphasis, “maybe he’s shown up and you just don’t know it.”

  She toyed with her braid while considering it. “Gary isn’t the type to be a stalker.”

  “You never know.” Miles flexed his hands on the wheel. “Describe him to me.”

  Wary now, she said, “You’re not going to do anything crazy, are you?”

  “If you’re asking if I’ll demolish him, that’s not my plan.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you’re ruling it out, though.”

  Being honest, Miles said, “If I find him lurking around here or doing anything shady to scare you, yeah, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll take him apart.”

  She stared at him in awe, then grinned. “My sweet ass, huh?”

  “Your ass is very sweet.” He cocked a brow and prompted, “Description?”

  Biting her lip to keep the grin at bay, Maxi gave it quick thought. “Hmm, let’s see. He’s twenty-eight. Close to six feet tall. Light brown hair, blue eyes. Trim.” She turned to glance out the window, then did a quick double take. “Wow, the sky’s getting dark.”

  Miles bent to peer up through the windshield. “Well, hell. A storm’s rolling in.”

  “We need the rain, but I’d rather it hold off another day or two.”

  He parked in the driveway and, hurrying now, went around to the back to open the storage area. He noticed Maxi standing there, staring at the front door.

  He didn’t see anything amiss but asked anyway. “Something wrong?”

  “Just thinking about unlocking it for you.”

  Yet she didn’t move. Miles’s heart softened. “Come here, Maxi.”

  Feet dragging, she headed his way. “What?”

  “Carry this.” He took the keys from her, then gave her his duffel and overnight bag. They weren’t heavy, but they required both her hands. “I can get the door.” He wouldn’t mention her nervousness; they’d said enough on it. Going forward, he’d try to ensure she didn’t have to mention it.

  Loading his own arms with grocery bags, he said, “Come on.”

  Together, they made multiple trips until all the groceries were in the kitchen and all the security supplies were unloaded on the dining room table.

  They’d just finished carrying bags of the old food out to the big bin when the sky opened up in a great deluge. The cats must have known it was coming, because Miles didn’t see a single one. Grabbing Maxi’s hand, he raced for the front porch while the stinging rain pounded onto them.

  Maxi laughed as she slipped and almost went down. Barely breaking stride, he scooped her up in his arms and bounded up the steps. Because they were soaked, he stopped outside the door and let her slide down his body. Lightning cut through the bloated black clouds. Thunder shook the foundation.

  Steam rose between them.

  Miles watched as rain dripped down her body, her top plastered to her breasts.

  The chill drew her nipples tight.

  Well, hell. If he didn’t find a distraction fast, he was a goner and he knew it. He glanced around the yard and found inspiration. “The cats are conspicuously absent.”

  Blinking at the intrusion of that nonsense comment, she looked down and tugged her top away from her body. “They’re probably in the barn.”

  “Hopefully.” Already puddles formed around her yard. “It’s going to be muddy.”

  She nodded. “If this doesn’t let up, we’re going to get soaked again when we feed them dinner.”

  We. He liked sharing that responsibility with her. Normally he’d have offered to take care of it while she stayed warm and dry.

  Knowing how she’d react to that, he kept the offer to himself.

  Lightning crashed again, making her jump. “Wow, that was close.”

  “It’ll probably blow over, but yeah, we should get inside.” He opened the door and urged her in. “Towels?”

  “I’ll grab them.” After stepping out of her sandals, she ducked into the main floor bathroom and grabbed two large white towels, handing one to him. They dried off the best they could.

  Without thinking about it, Miles pulled off his sodden T-shirt, walked back out to the porch and wrung it out. When he turned to step back in, he found Maxi staring at him, her dark eyes consuming, her body tense in sexual awareness.

  God, the things she did to him.

  For a few heartbeats, neither of them moved. Slowly Miles came in, closing and locking the door behind him.

  She cleared her throat. “I need to change.” Again, her gaze flickered to his chest.

  “Me, too.” Ignoring the sparks, he gestured to the steps. “We can go up and grab your clothes first.”

  Though she nodded, she didn’t yet move, and she didn’t take her rapt attention off his abs. Miles could almost see her mental struggle.

  Oh, yeah, she wanted him.

  He wouldn’t have to wait long to get what he wanted in return.

  Finally, with a low sound of regret, she rushed past him.

  Hiding his grin, Miles followed her up.

  In her bedroom, she said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll just change in the closet.”

  “Suit yourself.” He couldn’t sit, not with his jeans wet, so he walked to the window to glance out. The rain hadn’t slowed yet. He turned back to see that she’d gone into the closet, but hadn’t completely closed the door.

  Through the two-inch opening, the shifting shadows he saw kick-started his imagination. He pictured her pulling off her wet, clinging top, removing her bra, stepping out of those minuscule shorts—

  “You still there?”

  “I haven’t budged.” Would she break down and ask him to sleep with her tonight? If not, he’d do the asking. He wanted her to sleep, not lie awake listening for trouble.

  A second later, she stepped out dressed in a soft, oversize T-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants, her feet bare. Her breasts were loose under that faded shirt, her nipples pressing against the soft material, an
d he had to look away before he forgot his big plan.

  “It’s cold in here,” she complained.

  “Guess that means your air-conditioning works?”

  “My grandma had all that replaced a few years ago. Upgraded plumbing, too.”

  “But she kept the old appliances in the kitchen?” The fridge was so small, they’d barely fit in the cold food they’d bought.

  “They were sentimental to her. She’d bought them ages ago with my grandpa.” Wrinkling her nose, she added, “There’s a newer freezer in the basement, but I don’t go down there often.” Carrying her wet clothes, Maxi led the way back downstairs. Just as she’d reached the bottom step, lightning cracked, making her jump. She grabbed the handrail with a low grumbling curse.

  Moving close behind her, Miles listened, but the thunder didn’t come as quickly this time. “I think the storm is moving off.”

  At the landing, she let out a breath. “I swear I’m not afraid of storms. I’m just...”

  “You’ve been a rock,” he said near her ear, giving her shoulders a squeeze. She went still, then leaned back slightly toward him. An offer, he knew, but being that close to her tempted him, so he stepped around her into the bedroom she’d assigned him. “Stop thinking I’m judging when I’m not.”

  She grumbled something, but he didn’t hear what.

  Biting back his smile, he did a quick study of the room. White curtains opened over a single window facing the backyard, giving a nice view of the pond and barn. An oval rug covered much of the scuffed hardwood floor. As she’d promised, Maxi had packed up everything except the furniture, leaving the room a mostly clean slate. The antique oak wasn’t feminine, but it was ornate. Nightstands, each topped with a glass lamp, flanked a quilt-covered full-size bed with a trunk by the footboard and an armoire with a locking door, a key sticking out of the lock.

  “There are extra blankets and pillows in the trunk. Everything is clean and fresh.”

  Miles went to his duffel bag and dug out a T-shirt, boxers and jeans. Aware of Maxi standing just inside the room with him, he said, “I’m not modest, so let me know if you’re wanting the full show.”

  She plopped down on the side of the bed, her back to him. “I won’t peek.”

  Grinning, Miles decided it was going to be even easier than he’d hoped. As he peeled out of his wet clothes, he asked, “Where’s the washer and dryer?”

  “There’s a small stack set in the kitchen.”

  “I didn’t see them.”

  “In the pantry.”

  “Gotcha.” Did her voice sound more strained? He pulled on the dry boxers and T-shirt. “I like the quilt on the bed.”

  “The bedding is all freshly washed, but since my grandmother made the quilt, I didn’t pack it away. It belongs in here, you know?”

  “Works for me.”

  Maxi smoothed a hand over the patchwork quilt that, surprisingly, wasn’t done in floral patterns but rather various stripes and checks in blended tones of blue, yellow and gray. It wasn’t masculine, really, but neither was it too frilly. “She made all the curtains, too. She did a lot of sewing over the years.”

  “She sounds like the quintessential grandma.” Cats and all.

  “In many ways, she was. She worked hard from sunup to sundown, didn’t complain much and always had cookies for me when I visited.”

  “Nice.”

  Maxi nodded. “In most ways, I was closer to her than my mother. Maybe because my grandmother didn’t equate motivation with gaining wealth. She was happy here and didn’t want for more.”

  Glad that she’d had the woman in her life, Miles said, “You miss her.”

  She stroked the quilt again. “I do, but being here in her house, surrounded by her choices, makes it easier. In so many ways, it’s like she’s still here with me.”

  Miles would ensure that she never had to leave, and that would start with ending the trouble. “I’ll get the locks changed first thing.”

  “Thank you. I’ll feel better once that’s done.”

  “While I do that,” he said, stepping into his jeans, “you can give me more info.”

  She half turned to face him, saw him zipping up, and her eyes widened. After a cough, she squeaked, “Info on what?”

  “Your family, your ex.” As he snapped the jeans closed, he came around in front of her. Seeing her on a bed, especially a bed assigned to him, ramped up the edgy need to have her again.

  It didn’t help that her gaze stayed below his navel.

  With a finger under her chin, Miles lifted her face, redirecting her attention without words. “I assume you want to come with me while I look around at everything?”

  “You already did.”

  “My first look around was too quick to make note of important things. I want to check out the windows and doors, and I want to see the basement. You can talk to me while I do that.” And that’d keep her from being alone. “First, though, let’s go check out that kitchen and get our soaked clothes in the washer.”

  He took her hand and hauled her off the bed. Yes, the rain had cooled everything, but her chilled fingers surprised him. It would be so easy to share his warmth.

  Better to save that for tonight, though.

  He grabbed his clothes, then picked up hers in the hall, where she’d left them. She decided the house was too quiet and detoured into the living room to turn on music before opening the folding pantry door and showing him the small washer with a dryer atop it.

  The sounds of hard rock filled the air as he watched her set the washer, paying attention so he’d know how to use it.

  “Next time, I’ll do the laundry.”

  “I don’t mind. I do a load almost every day because the washer is so small. Your clothes and mine make it a full load.”

  Miles walked over to the refrigerator. “I can’t get over how small this thing is. I bet it’s an antique.”

  “Probably. The cabinets, too, and even the dinner table.”

  He glanced at the small wooden table she’d mentioned. It looked more like a toddler table to him, and he wouldn’t trust those little chairs with his weight.

  Altogether, though, the room had a certain warmth to it. He could imagine Maxi as a kid sitting at the table with cookies and milk while her grandma, wearing a ruffled apron, fussed around her.

  It was a nice image.

  “I scrubbed everything in here,” she said. “The floors, appliances, walls. Remember, I told you that.”

  “I remember.” He’d thought she’d exaggerated, but looking around now, he saw every surface shining.

  “When she was younger, my grandmother was meticulous in her daily chores. But as she got older, she couldn’t clean the baseboards or under the furniture.” Hands on hips, she, too, looked around. “I had hoped it would help, but you can’t scrub away age. I need a new floor bad, and the walls are in desperate need of paint. But both those updates require moving the appliances, and I’m afraid if I move them, they’ll quit working.”

  “You don’t want to replace them?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. This old kitchen wouldn’t be the same without them.”

  Miles understood that she wanted to hang on to her grandma a little longer, so he said, “It’s growing on me.”

  She laughed. “Fibber.”

  Slipping his arm around her, Miles said, “For now, let’s do the updates we can and worry about remodeling later.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  TOGETHER THEY WENT over every egress in the house. The locks on the windows were surprisingly strong, so he didn’t think he needed to mess with those.

  He’d expected the basement to be eerie, but instead long fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling lit every corner of the room. Spotlessly clean—more evidence of Maxi’s cleaning f
its—with a concrete floor and dust-free rafters. Additional shelving for canned goods, a massive box freezer, new furnace and air unit, and a water heater made it seem more modern than the rest of the house.

  In the center of the floor, situated on a pallet, Maxi had piled ten large bags of cat food.

  Eyeing the bags, each weighing sixteen pounds, he wondered aloud, “How’d you get those down the steps?”

  “One bag at a time.”

  He frowned over that. There had to be an easier place for her to store the food. While he considered it, he checked the two casement windows and found them secure. “Overall, the house is in great shape. It just needs some sprucing up.”

  “Will we need to throw out the food in the freezer?”

  He opened the freezer, saw the frozen vegetables and meat, and figured they’d be okay. For one thing, no one could break in through the windows, and how would you taint frozen food? “Let me think about it.”

  He’d ask Leese, get his opinion and maybe do a little research on his own.

  They locked the basement again, then Maxi sat on the porch with him while he changed out the front lock and added a dead bolt.

  “Where’d you learn to do that?”

  “Do what?” he asked, leaning in to tighten a screw.

  “The handyman stuff. And don’t tell me all guys are born knowing how, because I know it’s not true. Gary told me plenty of times that he wasn’t great with a hammer.”

  Under his breath, Miles said, “Got to have a hammer first, before you can get good with it.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. Bashing her ex wouldn’t get him anywhere. “My dad taught me. He always had me with him when he worked on stuff. Not just repairs, but yard work or cleaning gutters—anything that came up. He was big on me learning everything I could, and I liked dogging his heels, so we both enjoyed it.” Smiling with a memory, he added, “My mom felt the same. She taught me to do my own laundry and load the dishwasher when I was around ten or so.”

  “So now you’re entirely self-sufficient?”

  “Pretty much.” With the lock done, he stood, then sent a meaningful glance at Maxi. “But not everything is fun to do alone.”