Unexpectedly You (7 page)

Chapter Seven

The doorbell rang at exactly five o’clock. Emma straightened her long-sleeved flannel shirt over her denim skirt. She grabbed her purple reading glasses from the kitchen counter and slipped on her clogs over her woolen tights. She’d washed her hair earlier and let it air-dry. It hung loose and wild around her shoulders, partly obscuring her face. She liked it that way. It provided a tiny bit of protection from Mitch’s obtrusive gaze.

Maybe Dorinda was right about making a deal with the devil. It was obvious to Emma that Mitch’s goal wasn’t to win over her neighbors but rather to embarrass her in front of her friends. Well, he had another think coming if he thought for one minute she’d stand by idly while he bamboozled his way into her life. He wanted to be part of her community, then by all means she’d make sure he was up to his eyeballs in small-town goodness.

She sucked in a quick breath before opening the door. She greeted him with a smug smile that died a coward’s slow death when she saw Mitch. Stubble-free and dressed to kill in a long-sleeved forest-green shirt and dark brown trousers, he obviously took the time to look presentable. More than presentable—he was breathtaking. Her belly cramped and her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips.

“Emma.” His gaze trailed down her chosen outfit and his mouth twitched at the corners. Rather than annoy her, she found it sexy. “You look stunning, as always.”

“Cut the act. No one is watching.” Apprehension whipped to peaks in her stomach. Better lay the ground rules early on. She’d keep her end of the bargain, but she wasn’t going to pretend they were friends when no one was watching. She turned to grab her coat from the hall closet when he brushed past her into the foyer. The hairs on her arms bristled from his touch.

“By all means, why don’t you come in?”

“How can I refuse that rousing invitation?”

The instant she shut the door, leaving them alone in the chilly foyer, an overwhelming sense of guilt slapped her right on the cheek. There was something very wrong with having Mitch McKenna standing inside her home, surrounded by her family pictures hung meticulously on every inch of space on the hallway wall. Having his eyes peruse intimate snapshots of her life ripped away her protective armor, leaving her stark naked to his judgment.

But even more disturbing was his presence. It was as if every step he took, every bit of space he filled, wiped clean the memories she’d had of what had been there before.

The enormity of the task ahead weighed heavily on her and she wished for the hundredth time she’d paid more attention to her finances before it became a crisis.

She didn’t know if she could go through with this farce. She’d spent the last six months fighting against the very thing he wanted her to now champion. She’d have to answer to her friends and neighbors about her abrupt change of heart. Worse, she’d have to risk being around Mitch day in and day out. And she didn’t trust the roller coaster of emotions he provoked every time he was near.

“Mind if I look around?”

“Suit yourself. I need to grab something from the kitchen.” She whizzed by him so he wouldn’t see the churn in her eyes.

In the kitchen, Emma glanced down at her outfit. For a second, she wished she’d worn something nicer but quickly doused the idea. She cursed herself for caring one iota what he thought of her looks. She wasn’t out to impress him. Not even in the least bit. This was all a game to him. She wasn’t in his league, which was fine by her. He wasn’t her type anyway. She preferred boy-next-door to movie-star good looks. She preferred Stefan.

With the Tupperware of cupcakes in her hand, she found Mitch in the family room, running his hands along the edges of her windows.

“You realize the reason it’s so cold in here is you’ve got a serious draft?”

And the exterior paint was peeling. And the pipes were loud and probably corroded. The list went on and on, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I like it cold.”

He raised a brow. “You must like paying up the nose on your energy bill.”

She smirked. “I use the fireplace a lot.”

He shrugged but didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. “It’s a nice house. How old is it?”

She sighed and placed the package of cupcakes on the antique sofa table. “It was built in the late forties.”

“Has it always been in your family?”

“It has. My great-grandfather was part of the original High School Replanting Crew. He built this home from salvaged Douglas firs after the Tillamook Burn. My great-aunt left it to me when I turned twenty-six.”

His eyes roamed over the exposed beams. “The room says a lot about you.”

“What does it say?” The minute the words left her lips, she regretted giving him the opportunity to dig into her.

His gaze shifted from the beams on the ceiling to the red brick fireplace and then to a bookcase filled with children’s games. “I bet you were the kind of mom who stuck sweet little notes when you packed your kid’s favorite lunch.”

She shrugged, slightly impressed with his perceptiveness. “Didn’t your mom pack your favorite lunch?”

“Hardly. My parents’ shifts at the mill started at five o’clock in the morning. That left my older brother in charge of getting us out of the house and off to school. Making lunch wasn’t part of Shane’s repertoire.”

His description of his childhood, though recounted in a blasé manner, tugged at Emma’s maternal instincts. She’d bet there were many days when both boys had gone hungry. “Do your parents still work at the mill?”

“No. It’s just my pops now. And he’s retired.”

She got the feeling Mitch was relieved when Bogie came in the room. He didn’t seem keen on talking about his family. She realized they just had their first real conversation that didn’t end in a shouting match.

“Who’s this guy?” Mitch bent down to pet Bogie, who was trying unsuccessfully to hump his leg. “You’re not my type, buddy,” he admonished.

“Bogie, get off,” she scolded from her vantage point by the doorway. “Sorry, he’s still not completely trained out of his bad habits.”

“He may not agree with you that it’s a bad habit. If you got him to be a watchdog, I’d say you got the raw end of the deal.”

She smiled despite her foul mood and then noticed how Mitch’s gaze lingered on her lips before slowly trailing down her neck to rest on her pounding chest. She cleared a tickle in her throat. “He’d have a hard time as a watchdog, considering he’s eighty percent deaf in both ears. I’m trying to get him to be more discriminating with his choices. But he still attempts to hump me every chance he gets.”

“He’s deaf, not blind.”

The air in the room suddenly felt stifling. She tossed her hair from her face. The sexual innuendo was so startling she wasn’t sure how to respond, so she simply stood, dusting off imaginary hair from the front of her shirt.

She recalled how she’d felt when he kissed her. A stupid little kiss, yet the shock of his touch had sent her imagination spiraling into the hemisphere. What it would feel like to have his lips on other parts of her body?

Dear God.
What have I gotten myself into?

She didn’t want a repeat of this morning or last night. If Mitch ever found out how her body responded to his touch, he’d find ways to use it against her. She had to make certain he knew he didn’t affect her. She had to bust his conceit bubble.

Again, she cleared her throat. “Look, McKenna—”

“What happened to calling me Mitch?”

“Mitch, right.
Mitch
, let’s get something straight before we get started on this...plan of yours. I agreed to introduce you around so the neighbors can get to know you. But I did not agree to pretend we’re anything but
neighborly.
Am I making myself clear?”

He arched his brow in that intimidating way she hated. “Why? You don’t think I’m good enough for you?”

“I’ll assume that was a rhetorical question. But for the record, you are not my type.”

“Is David Bruin your type? I hope he is, because you have less than a week to charm him into approving my plans.”

“David and I are friends. I don’t know where you got it in your perverted mind that we’re anything more than friends.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t see that he wants to get into your pants?”

She drew in sharp breath. “He was married to my cousin Lisa! He’s practically family. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He curled his lips in that demonic way. “Don’t hate the messenger. I’m just calling it as I see it.”

“No, you just don’t understand what it means to be neighborly. David looks out for Sammy and me. What you’re suggesting is disgusting.”

He raised both hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

She peered closely at his veiled expression. “Is that why you asked me to help you with David?”

He shrugged but kept quiet.

“If you think, for one single minute, that I would do anything illicit to further your plans with David, then you’re more of an idiot than I gave you credit for.”

“On that happy note, why don’t we get this party started?”

“By all means. I can’t wait.” She grabbed the cupcakes and spun on her heels in a huff.

He took his time walking toward where she stood holding open the front door. When he was directly in front of her, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “For the record, uptight redheads are not high on my list either.”

She threw a daggered look at his retreating back.

* * *

Mitch turned on the truck’s engine and blasted the heat to combat the freezing rain and gusty wind. He glanced at Emma and tried to forget how delectably her hips swayed when she’d stomped out of the family room.

After carefully placing her precious cupcakes in the backseat of the truck, she hadn’t said a word. Her fingers were clasped tightly around a colorful insulated lunch bag on her lap.

He didn’t know what it was about her that drove him to lose every ounce of control he had. He knew she deliberately dressed like she was going out to pull weeds in the garden. At least he had the satisfaction of seeing her surprised expression when she saw him cleaned up.

He wasn’t naive. Like Shane said, charming women out of their skirts had been his pastime. But it hadn’t been all casual fun. For him, it had been a quest. He’d sought intimacy with women because he craved to feel that special connection. It wasn’t ’til he was older that he realized it was temporary, lasting only as long as the physical need was satiated.

“Where are we going on our first date?”

She shot him an exasperated look. “This is
not
a date.”

“Does that mean I’m not going to get laid?”

Her mouth dropped open. “What—”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I was kidding. It was a joke.” He expelled a long breath. “Where are you taking me on our first
non
-date?”

Emma buckled her seat belt, a smug grin playing on her face. “Do you know where the VFW is just over the highway?” When he nodded, she continued. “Good. That’s where we’re headed. To bingo. I promised Dorinda I would call out the numbers for her tonight.”

He tugged on his ear and swallowed the first curt response that came to mind. “You want me to go with you to bingo?”

“You wanted to meet the folks who live here, right? Well, the VFW is the perfect place to immerse yourself.”

Their gaze locked. The vein in his temple pulsed with the beat of the raindrops on the windshield. Shaking his head at her obvious attempt to make him regret his offer, he revved up the engine and slammed the gearshift into first. “I hope you brought enough daubers.”

The steady drizzle outside and the hum of the air warming the truck filled the silence. He drew in a long breath and caught the faint sweet scent of her floral perfume. The same damn scent had infiltrated his dreams last night after she’d left his trailer. He’d woken up to the mother of all hard-ons.

He shifted slightly now in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the road, though he did notice her fingers fidgeting on her lap. So this was how she was going to play it, was it? He’d play along.

As soon as he’d had a decent cup of espresso and his head finally cleared of a hangover, he had serious morning-after regret about the plan. He knew damn well the chance of Emma convincing David Bruin and her neighbors to approve his plans without further delay was slim to none.

How would she convince them to trust him if she didn’t even like him? How would she charm Bruin enough so that the building official would be enticed to do her bidding? It wasn’t impossible—he’d seen himself how animated she could be. But looking at her now, he had to remind himself he hadn’t been hallucinating.

When he finally pulled into the VFW, he chose the farthest parking spot from the entrance, out of the way from the crowd of people exiting their cars to hurry inside. He kept the engine running. “Here we are.”

She turned to him, her expression guarded. “Mitch, I have a favor to ask.”

Here we go.
“Favor?”

Her eyes blinked several times. “Most of my neighbors, especially the matriarchs of Bella, will be here tonight.”

“And?”

“And I think this provides a really good opportunity to show your good side.”

“As compared to my bad side?”

“You know what I’m talking about. It’ll already be weird that we’re walking in together. I’m just asking you to be discreet. These ladies have certain expectations. They see me as a married woman.”

“Unlike Bruin.”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t be crude.”

He shot her a look that conveyed his meaning. “I must have hit a nerve because you’re blushing.”

“I am
not
blushing,” she said, turning so she faced the passenger window.

He clenched his jaw. Maybe she was lying. Maybe she was aware of David’s interest in her and she liked the attention. Fortunately, Mitch also realized that meant she was his best chance at getting the building official to sway his way in a short period of time.

Interesting. So Bruin had it in for his ex-wife’s cousin. Had the infatuation with Emma had anything to do with his divorce? He lost what little respect he had for the man. Not that he had a stockpile anyway. There was something about Bruin that didn’t sit right with him.