No Sunshine When She's Gone (14 page)

“I drink my coffee black.”

A corner of his mouth curved. “So do I.” He seemed amused they had something in common.

He set out plastic knives, along with butter and cream cheese packets. He leaned his hip against a breakfast bar stool and faced her. She noticed the bruise on the side of his nose. Fortunately the bump on his head wasn’t visible. “Help yourself,” he said.

She preferred to sit. She hoisted herself up on a stool, eyed the selection, and chose a plain cake doughnut.

“No surprises there,” Mike muttered, but she still heard him. He stood on her left, and her left ear was her good ear. She heard very little in her right.

“What’s wrong with my choice?” she asked him.

“It’s predictable,” he said, reaching for an onion-rye bagel. He cut it in half and spread two packets of cream cheese in the middle. He took a big bite. He’d downed two bagels by the time she finished her doughnut.

“I like what I like,” she defended herself.

He passed her a crème-filled, chocolate-frosted doughnut sprinkled with coconut. “Be daring, go crazy.”

She gave it a try. It was delicious. “What time do you have to be at work?” she asked, hoping it would be soon.

He shrugged. “I don’t punch a time clock. Yesterday I put in eighteen hours. I work until the job’s done.”

“You managed to squeeze in a little shopping, too.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. “Dreams was on my way to the bank.”

“How fortunate they were in the same vicinity.”

He topped off his coffee, added a few drops to her mug also. “Are you giving me a hard time?”

“No worse than you’ve been giving me.”

His jaw worked. “Feeling brave this morning, aren’t you, Vanilla?”

“Courage comes from a good night’s rest.”

“Pratesi did it for you?” He was smug.

She didn’t allow him the satisfaction of a response. “Did you sleep well?” she asked instead.

“Like a virgin on those white sheets.”

She couldn’t help herself; she smiled. “You’re far from innocent.”

He covered his eyes with the back of his hand. “Close your mouth. You’re blinding me with your braces.”

His words hurt her a little, but his tone wasn’t mean. It was teasing. “Be glad you’re leaving then,” she said. “I’m living in a penthouse and I plan to smile all day.”

He looked toward the living room. “It’s nice here,” he agreed.

“Don’t get too attached.”

They sipped their coffee. She had nothing further to say to him, and he seemed finished with her, too.

“I better get going,” he finally said. “I have a shitload of stuff to do today.”

“Does that include organizing the construction trailer?”

“I need to find my bed under a ton of boxes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If worse comes to worst, maybe I’ll—”

She didn’t like the direction of his thoughts. “You’ll
what?
” she asked.

“Spend another night with you.”

“Go with Plan B.”

“You wouldn’t know I was even here,” he said, warming to the idea. “I wouldn’t get in until midnight; you’d already be asleep. I’d take a quiet shower. Sleep, and leave in the morning before you’ve got one eye open. It’s doable.”

“For you, but not me.” She slid off the stool, started for the living room.

He blocked her path. “Think about it.”

“I have other things to think about today.”

He reached into the front pocket on his jeans, pulled out his wallet. He removed a fifty, and tossed it on the counter. “For last night,” he said. “Put it toward your rent.”

He had no idea she was living in the penthouse rent-free. She couldn’t take his money. She picked up the bill, pushed it into his chest. His very hard chest. “I can pay my own way.”

He curved his hand over hers, squeezed the fifty in her palm. “Buy some groceries then. You can’t live on Fiber Flakes. They’re disgusting.”

“I’m fine with the flakes.”

“I’ll fill your refrigerator—”

“You won’t be around to eat the food.”

“Cut me some slack, Vanilla.”

He frustrated her. “Stop pushing into my life.”

“You wouldn’t let me in otherwise.”

That took her aback. Her stomach tightened. “You want in?” she asked, finding it hard to believe that he wanted to be around her.

He released her hand, and then fisted his own at his side. His expression hardened. His gray eyes cooled. He gave her an invisible push away from him. “This isn’t about us; it’s about a place to stay. Don’t confuse the two.”

At least he was honest. She wasn’t looking for a relationship either. Particularly with a man who ran hot, then cold, then indifferent. He’d never allow her to get close.

However there was something about him that drew her. She could put a roof over his head. What was one more night?
Twice the fool,
her conscience warned.

Her best friend Jill would say she was out of her mind. That she needed her head examined. “I don’t want anyone to know you’re staying here,” Carrie went on to say.

“I can live with that.”

She made one final request. “Please don’t bring a woman home with you tonight. Save your sleepovers for your own place.”

His brow creased. “You don’t think much of me, do you?” he asked.

“You don’t make a good first impression.”

He shrugged as if he didn’t give a shit. He stepped around her then, and walked toward the door. She looked after him. “I’ll see you if I see you,” he said, leaving abruptly.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said to the closed door. There was a lot of food left over, enough to enjoy several morning meals. She had no idea if Mike would be here, too.

She slipped the fifty dollar bill in the silverware drawer for safe-keeping, then washed his coffee mug and put it away. She was in the midst of storing the bakery goods in ziplock bags when someone knocked on her door. Her heart skipped a beat. Had Mike returned? She crossed to the entrance, hoping so. She answered with, “You have a key—”

Only to have Jillian Mac reply, “No, I don’t.”

Her best friend leaned against the doorjamb, wearing a pale blue tank top, jeans, and a smile. She carried a small brown bag. She gave Carrie a morning hug before asking, “Who were you expecting?”

“The locksmith,” came immediately to mind. The sound of Mike fiddling with the lock had wakened her last night. Her own key had stuck earlier in the day. She’d planned to call the apartment manager and have it fixed. She just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. The white lie kept Mike a secret.

Carrie motioned Jill inside. “You’re up early,” she said. Jill followed her back to the kitchen.

Jill’s eyes widened when she saw the leftover muffins and doughnuts, not yet put away. “Did you raid the kiosk downstairs?” she asked.

“My eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

Jill set the small bag on the counter. “I stopped at The Bakehouse and picked up breakfast, although it looks like you’ve already eaten.”

“I’m full, but I’ll sit with you,” Carrie offered. “There’s coffee.” She poured Jill a cup and topped off her own.

Jill slipped a glazed doughnut from the bag and divided it in thirds. She ate slowly. “How did it feel sleeping at the palace?” she teased.

“Amazing,” Carrie said. It was all thanks to Mike Burke. “I slept on Pratesi.”

“Are the sheets as comfortable as they look?”

“Even better,” Carrie said on a sigh. “They’re heaven on a bed.”

“I was going to call you last night,” Jill told her, “but Aidan and Sadie dropped by the houseboat. We went to the dog park, then took a walk on the boardwalk. I played pinball.”

“Sounds like a nice evening.”

“It got late,” Jill added. “I didn’t want to wake you if you’d turned in early.”

“I was asleep by ten,” was a half-truth. Stranger danger had rousted her at midnight. It had taken an hour for her heart to slow and her mind to calm after her confrontation with Mike.

Jill didn’t comment further, which was unusual for her. Her friend was vibrant and usually embraced life. Not so this morning. She was quiet and distant, and seemingly in her own world. Something was off. Carrie guessed the obvious. “Tell me about Aidan,” she said.

Jill ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup, then played with the corner of her napkin. She was procrastinating. “He shared his town with me,” she finally said. “The boardwalk is fun during the day, but it comes alive at night. It rocks.”

Jill hesitated, and Carrie didn’t push her. “Aidan invited me to stop by his construction trailer and meet his girls,” she managed.

“Will you?” Carrie asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jill evaded. “
His girls
sound like a harem.”

“He’s a good-looking guy,” Carrie said. “I’m sure he has his share of female attention.”

“These women followed him from Tallahassee.”

“They must be special.”

“I’m thinking so, too.”

Carrie eyed Jill closely. “Jealous, Jillie Mac?”

“I’d have to like the man to be jealous.”

“You’re giving him a lot of thought.”

“Too much thought, maybe. We’ve just met.”

Carrie touched Jill’s shoulder. “I’m curious about the girls, too,” she admitted. “When do we leave for the site?”

“You’ll come with me?” Jill looked relieved.

“What are best friends for? I want to check out your competition.”

Jill laughed then. “I’m not planning to date him.”

“So you say now.”

“So I’ll continue to say for the rest of the year.”

Carrie didn’t believe her for a second. There was something in Jill’s expression that said she hoped for more. “Another cup of coffee before we leave?” she offered.

“I’ve had enough caffeine to face the day.”

Carrie persuaded Jill to let her drive to the construction site. The road had yet to be paved. Ruts and potholes wouldn’t be kind to Jill’s Triumph. They took Carrie’s Cube.

Carrie’s heart quickened when she saw Mike Burke at the security gate. He was talking to the guard. She slowed her vehicle at the entrance booth. An enormous sign announced
THE FUTURE HOME OF THE RICHMOND ROGUES SPRING TRAINING FACILITY
.

She rolled down her window, unsure of her welcome. Mike stared a hole through her windshield. He wasn’t happy to see her. Not at all.

She wasn’t here for him; she had come along for Jill. Screw the man, she thought. He could be obstinate.

The guard held up his clipboard, asked, “Your name?” He wanted to be sure they were allowed on the site.

“Carrie Waters and Jillian Mac to see Aidan Cates,” she stated.

The guard shook his head. “Sorry, you’re not on the list.”

“Perhaps you could call him?” Carrie suggested.

Mike was being no help at all. He stood off to the side, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched as she was denied access. What a bastard.

“Mr. Cates isn’t on site,” the guard told them.

“The man works banker’s hours,” mumbled Carrie.

Jill shifted on the passenger seat. “Let’s go then.”

Carrie was about to shift in reverse when Mike walked toward her vehicle. He had athletic swagger and a badass attitude. “I see you’re driving the bread box.” His tone was snide. “Why are you here?”

“Aidan invited us.”

“He’s running late,” Mike stated.

“We’ll come back another time,” said Jill.

“Or you can wait for him in the administration trailer,” Mike suggested, giving ground. “You can hang with his girls.”

Carrie glanced at Jill. Jill seemed uneasy. “We’re here, we might as well stay,” Carrie said.

Jill nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Mike asked, with more than a little interest.

“It’s none of your concern,” said Carrie.

His jaw worked. “You’re on my construction site,” he reminded her. “Everything that happens here is my business.”

“We were hoping for a tour,” was the first thing that came to Carrie’s mind.

“You’re into trailers and heavy equipment?”

“And guys in hard hats,” Carrie said, when a truckload of men pulled up behind her vehicle. “Do they all wear tool belts?”

A muscle ticked in Mike’s jaw. His gaze was as hard as his voice. “They’re subcontractors, and have their own special tools for their trade,” he said. He then slapped his palms against the side of her vehicle. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the main trailer.”

He waved them through the gate, and then climbed into a silver Porsche parked just inside the fence.

“Dickhead drives a hot car,” said Jill.

Yes, he did, Carrie silently agreed.

“Did you see his shiner?” Jill asked. “I’m sure he deserved the punch.”

“His nose looks sore.”

“He gets no sympathy from me.”

Carrie felt bad enough for both of them.

Mike gunned the engine then and took off. He left them in a cloud of dust.

“That was rude.” Carrie quickly rolled up her window. She didn’t want to breathe the grime.

Jill covered her mouth, coughed. “He’s not my favorite person.”

Carrie gave him the benefit of the doubt. She’d seen the considerate side of him when he’d brought her breakfast. Unfortunately, there was nothing nice about him now. The man could backslide.

Mike was already out of his Porsche by the time they reached the double-wide trailer. They joined him. He let them pass ahead of him. They made their way up the steps.

“No need to knock,” he said to Jill, who was ahead of Carrie. “Go on in.”

Carrie was about to follow Jill when Mike pushed the door closed. She was one step above him, and looked down on him now. “Why are you really here?” he questioned. He seemed to know there was more to their visit than they’d let on.

“We were in the area, and wanted to see the site,” she hedged. “This will be the Rogues’ second home.”

“There’s nothing to see,” he said flatly. “It’s a dust bowl. The road has yet to be paved. We won’t officially break ground for another week.”

“Aidan invited Jill to meet his girls, and”—she didn’t want to give too much away—“this was as good a time as any.”

A slow look of understanding crossed his face. “Jillie Mac is curious about the ladies. She’s checking out the competition, isn’t she?” He smirked.