Unexpectedly You (9 page)

She would have jumped off had his arms not come around her waist and held her in place. “And here I thought I was having a wet dream,” he said, his voice thick and hoarse.

The look in his eyes ignited a fire inside her belly. Her lips dried and her throat tightened. She tried to say something but her tongue felt thick.

In a single move, Mitch flipped her over on her back with him on top, his hot, naked leg over her legs. His rumpled hair and drowsy eyes made him look boyishly handsome.

She cleared her throat. “I was checking to see if you were warm enough.”

His lips turned up at the corner. “If I wasn’t then, I’m sure as hell on fire now.”

The intoxicating way he stared at her melted her bones. “Why did you leave the window open? You could catch a fever. I brought you soup. It’s tomato. Do you like tomato soup?” She knew she was chattering nonsense but couldn’t seem to find the energy to meet his gaze. The ache inside of her was impossible to ignore and as hard as it was to admit, she liked Mitch’s weight on top of her. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be engulfed in a man’s arms.

He raised his head a few inches from her face and tried to smile. “This must really be happening, because tomato soup was never part of my wet dreams.”

Emma shrugged. “Sorry, but I wanted to check to make sure you were okay.”

He moved to allow her to sit up on the bed and then cursed under his breath when he saw the bulge beneath his boxers. He yanked the blanket nonchalantly over his waist. “Thank you for the concern. As you can see, I survived my stupid attempt at being a hero.”

She nodded. “That was a brave thing to do.”

“It was a stupid thing to do.”

“It was stupid. But brave nonetheless.” She tried to focus on finding the right words to thank him but her attention kept getting distracted by the tantalizing amount of skin and muscle on display. She drew in a long breath to gather herself. Mitch simply raised a brow. “Thank you for saving my dog. If there is any way I can return the favor?”

He leaned back on the bed, placing both his arms behind his head. She tried to ignore the way his stomach pulled in tight and how his biceps flexed against the pillows. His amused smile seemed to have guessed at her discomfort.

“That’s a hell of a question to ask a man when minutes ago you had his head between your legs.”

She swallowed hard. “You know what I mean.”

He grinned. “You know what I need you to do. That’s the deal we made, right? Just keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’ll keep my end of the bargain. Don’t you worry.”

“I don’t worry.” He nudged the blanket lower with his leg so it dipped below his belly button. Her mouth parched.

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you go on home before I take you up on
your
offer?” He arched his brow suggestively.

Mortified, she jumped up, wheeled around and walked out of the bedroom with her back as stiff as the wet jeans she’d picked up from the floor.

“Sleep tight,” she heard him say from the bedroom before she shut the trailer’s door.

Chapter Ten

“Honey, I’ve been waiting years to get my hands on this beautiful hair of yours,” Lorraine gushed as she combed out Emma’s hair. The ends hit just below her shoulder blades and lay flat against the words Cutter’s Away Salon emblazoned on the back of the black robe.

Emma smiled. “Don’t go crazy. I still want some length, but if we can tame this wild child and make it look halfway stylish.”

Lorraine chewed on her bottom lip as she studied Emma’s reflection in the mirror. “You betcha! She’s just crying for more red, and I think a cute bob will do the trick. Let me go mix, be back in a jiffy.” Her friend practically waltzed to the back of the salon.

Lorraine returned with a metal cart filled with small bowls, brushes and slips of shiny aluminum foil.

Squashing her second thoughts, Emma took a sip of her chamomile tea before meeting Lorraine’s knowing gaze in the mirror. Her friend squeezed her shoulders in reassurance before applying the color.

Emma’s gaze drifted to the window as nervous energy buzzed in her stomach. Sunshine, which hadn’t made an appearance in weeks, shone bright and crisp. She’d woken up with the rays warming her face and rather than being tired after a sleepless night, she’d hopped out of bed, showered and cleared out her closet. Stacks of newly filled boxes sat in her trunk, waiting to be dropped off at Goodwill.

Now here she was, having made the decision to change her external appearance to match the renaissance she felt inside. Maybe it was the sunlight, but she felt different today. Like a big old heavy cloud had been lifted. She tried not to think too hard on what else might be causing the surge of energy.

“So, I missed some excitement at the beach yesterday, I hear,” Lorraine said.

Emma coughed and spluttered as tea went down the wrong pipe. “You did. It was awful.” She relayed the events of the previous day.

Lorraine’s mouth hung open in awe. “I was at the diner this morning, and everyone was gabbing about what a hero Mitch was to save Bogie. I can’t believe he’d risk his neck like that. Maybe we have him all wrong, huh?”

The same thought crossed Emma’s mind whenever she remembered how Mitch had flung himself into the sea after Bogie. “Maybe.”

“What’s he doing working over at your place?”

“I hired him,” she lied. “I asked him to fix some things around the house. It’s the least I can do, right? His project is delayed.”

Lorraine arched her brow. “I didn’t know he was for hire. I’d pay good money to see all that tanned muscle sweatin’ around my house.”

Emma chuckled. “I’m sure you can ask him if he’d like to work on your house. I don’t have exclusive rights.”

“I don’t know about that. I saw you two the other night at bingo. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Not that your eyes strayed too far from him either, mind you.”

She felt heat creep up her neck. “Don’t be silly. I took him to bingo because I agreed to help him improve his image in town. That’s all there was to it.”

“Considering he’s now a bona fide hero, I think your job’s done. Already, two of my ladies came in this morning to get their hairs set. But I think they just wanted to get a good look at that hunky man in the flesh.”

Emma laughed. “You’re awful.”

Maybe that was why she felt elated this morning. She’d done her part, and Mitch had certainly done his. Now that he’d practically won over the town, it wouldn’t be so bizarre why she would champion his project during Thursday’s meeting.

She closed her eyes. That meant she’d be able to call Tim and tell him she’d found a way to pay off her loan. No wonder she felt good. This was going to work out after all. She’d panicked for nothing.

“Hon, did you see him dancing with Mrs. Johnson? Forget feet, the poor woman’s got two left paws.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I did. It was pretty funny.”

Lorraine removed her latex gloves and slapped them on the empty color bowl. “I cannot wait to see this metamorphosis.”

“You and me both.”

Lorraine wiped excess color from her forehead then stood back, placing both hands on her ample hips. “Are you still hosting book club tonight?”

Darn
. With everything going on the last few days, Emma had forgotten it was her turn to host their monthly book club. How would she manage to get Mitch off her back? What excuse would she use? Considering what Lorraine had just told her, she rather doubted she needed to spend any more time with him. And considering she couldn’t get the image of him in his sexy boxer shorts and the scent of his brandy-laced breath out of her mind, she should stay clear away from him.

Maybe the book club was perfect timing. David would be there, and she could tell Mitch she was doing her part of the deal. Spending time with David meant she didn’t have to spend the evening in Mitch’s company.

She’d be able to talk with David. Maybe she’d even call him to come over a little earlier so she could have a private word before the rest of their friends showed up.

Emma beamed. “Of course I’m hosting. You’re coming, right?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I close up here. What do you need me to bring? And don’t even start with any of that gluten-free crap that David can eat. Your cousin was right to divorce him.”

“I doubt David’s gluten intolerance was the reason Lisa divorced him. In any case, bring something really bad for us.”

“I can do that.”

Lorraine wrapped Emma’s head in a plastic wrap and rolled the portable heater over to where she sat. “Fifteen minutes under this thing, my dear, and you’ll be good to go. Do you want to sit by the window so you can enjoy the view?” Lorraine’s eyes twinkled knowingly.

Emma shook her head at her friend’s outrageous suggestion. “I’ll just take a magazine, thank you.”

Really, it wasn’t like she hadn’t already had her fill of porn-worthy Mitch last night and then this morning when she’d stepped off her porch and had practically tripped over his toolbox.

She’d looked up and there he was, on a ladder, with nothing on but faded jeans that sat way below the natural waistline. With his five o’clock shadow and mussed hair, he could have been posing for a sexy calendar shoot. She had gulped down her shock at seeing the trail of dark hair from his belly button down to where his jeans ended and her imagination began.

She was thankful for the sunglasses she’d donned before leaving the house. At least he couldn’t see her eyes. “What are you doing up there?”

He crooked his brows in that annoying way. “I’m working your honey-do-list, honey, and replacing the weather stripping on the windows.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough for that?”

He glanced down. “I’m feeling great. Did you sleep well?”

“I slept fine,” she’d lied. “Don’t fall off that thing. I don’t have coverage if you break your neck.” She went to lock the front door but dropped her keys on the wooden plank.
Damn.

“Much as I’m sure you’d like to see me do just that, I won’t be indulging your fantasy today. But thank you for the warning.”

She heard him chuckle when she’d dropped her keys twice more as she hurried to leave.

No, the last thing Emma wanted to do right now was be anywhere near Mitch McKenna.

Spending a quiet evening with her friends put a smile on her face. She wasn’t worried about getting David on board. He was the epitome of reason. His niceness was his curse. Her cousin Lisa had complained to Emma constantly that David was bland. No passion. And Lisa had wanted excitement. So they’d divorced after less than three years of marriage. Poor David. He’d stayed behind in Bella Del Mar, while Lisa opted for the big city of Denver.

But unlike her cousin, Emma preferred nice. She’d had her fill of excitement in the last few days to last a lifetime. She preferred predictable. She looked forward to being around David, whose steady matter-of-factness always provided reassurance.

He’d understand her predicament and would want to support her 100 percent. There was no reason in the world why he would object to approving Mitch’s plan, especially now that the citizen’s task force and the community was all for it.

* * *

Emma’s biceps throbbed as she hurried to place her groceries on the kitchen counter before the brown bag completely ripped in half. After getting her hair done, she’d decided to drive north to Cannon Beach to shop for a new outfit. She hadn’t counted on the construction traffic on the way back and by the time she’d finished picking up groceries, she had less than half an hour before her friends arrived. Sweat trickled down her back as she took off her raincoat.

She hadn’t heard from or seen Mitch since that morning. It wasn’t like they had plans tonight. Was it her fault he didn’t tell her if he was even going to be around? Maybe he’d figured out she’d done her part already.

A heavy lump in her stomach contradicted her optimism. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

On auto-mode, she ran the baking potatoes under hot water before poking tiny holes in the skin and shoving them in the bottom rack of the oven. She dialed the thermometer to 350 degrees and set the timer for an hour. Baked potatoes—check. Next, she ripped the plastic covering off the family-sized package of rib eye steaks and placed the raw meat in a glass casserole. She applied garlic powder and an English rub on each flank before pouring half a can of 7UP. She covered the dish in foil. Marinate steak—check. She glanced at the clock. Five minutes tops, not too bad.

She was looking around the kitchen when her heart did a somersault. There, she heard it again. Running water. She looked to the hallway and frowned. Someone was in the upstairs bathroom.

With her heart in her throat, she prowled down the hallway, worry creasing her forehead, until she tripped over Bogie, who lay flat on his belly. Why wouldn’t he be barking?

Oh my God
. Sammy. Something must have happened to cut her trip short. Adrenaline had her taking the stairs two steps at a time.

“Sammy?” Out of breath, Emma knocked on the bathroom door before entering. Steam blurred her vision. “Sammy, when did you—”

Large, tanned hands ripped open the white lace shower curtain, and a pair of piercing blue eyes granted her a pointed look. “Don’t you knock?”

Emma’s hands flew to her mouth. She gasped from the expanse of solid muscle displayed in tantalizing detail against the black-and-white mosaic tile. Unbidden, her gaze dropped to his semierect penis peeking through soapy froth. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “What...what...why are you naked...here?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Because I’m taking a shower
here.
”

Heat swarmed her skin and tingled her newly colored roots. “I...see that. But why are you taking a...a shower in
my
bathroom?”

Turning off the water, Mitch stepped out of the tub and grabbed a frayed brown towel she knew didn’t belong to her. Undaunted by her presence, he dried his body in quick stabs, all the while keeping his gaze on hers. His lips curled up in the corners. “I don’t mind you watching but unless you want to experience—” his eyes drifted between his legs, where she saw a distinct spasm that made her tilt her head sideways, “—I suggest you give me a minute to get dressed.”

Feeling like the potato she’d placed in the oven, her flesh singed with heat...and something else. With as much poise as she could manage, considering she couldn’t suck in enough air, she gave him an impervious look that belied her racing pulse and spun on her heels.

With the door closed behind her, Emma leaned back and placed shaky hands on her stomach to get her breathing to even out. She could hear him whistling behind the closed door and she grunted.

Hurrying before he opened the door and found her frazzled, she flew down the stairs and stood, with her arms crossed in front of her, by the front door.

When he finally descended, wearing dark Levi’s, a blue flannel shirt and still drying his hair with the towel, she groaned inside. Why, dear God, did the man have to exude raw sex appeal without even trying? Some men tried hard to achieve the look; Mitch made it look natural. But if not altogether oblivious to his effect on women, he seemed indifferent.

Knowing full well her imagination had been sorely lacking when it came to what lay underneath his jeans, she couldn’t find the nerve to meet his gaze without blushing. So instead, she studied the diagonal pattern on his shirt, right below his stubbled chin. “Care to explain why you were in my bathroom?”

She was distracted from her observation when he ran his hands through his damp hair. “Dorinda let me in.”

“Dorinda let you in?” she echoed, her voice hitching with each word. Sweat formed on her upper lip.

“Where have you been anyway?”

Wiping her clammy palms on her jeans, she frowned at him. “Out.” Her blouse felt tight against her neck and she adjusted it to open her airways. The hallway was hot. Her entire freaking home was smoldering. “Why is it so damn hot in here?”

“Because I just spent the last five hours weather-stripping your windows. And the reason I showered here is because I replaced several of your corroded pipes with new copper ones.”

“You did?” She bit her lip. “Thank you. But I still don’t get the shower part.” Emma made a mental note to have a chat with Dorinda for letting a stranger—okay, maybe not a stranger—a man, in her shower.

“My hot water heater busted. I was covered in muck and grease. Dorinda was kind enough to let me shower in your house. Thank you, by the way.”

She nodded, unable to pull a string of words together. “Oh.”

He raised a brow. “I left you a note.”

“A note?”

“Kitchen counter.”

“Oh.” What just happened upstairs boomeranged in her brain and her eyes drifted to his belt buckle before slicing up to focus on his face. “Thank you for fixing my windows and my pipes.”

He coughed into his fist. “Anytime. Besides, I said I would repair some things, right? I keep my word.”

His implication that she didn’t keep hers made her lift her chin in defiance. “I’ll be doing my part.”

“I should hope so. What are our plans for this evening?”

The reminder that her friends would be arriving in a few minutes jolted her into action. Her eyes widened in shock. “I have plans tonight.”