He's So Fine Page 8

  time with Cole Donovan.

  Laughing softly at whatever he saw on her face, Cole came all the way into the shop, letting the door close behind him.

  “I’m closed,” she said.

  He helpfully flicked the lock, which resisted his efforts. He turned to eyeball it and then manhandled it the way she had to every single day.

  “I could fix that,” he said.

  “That’s okay,” she said, looking at his sling. No way would she risk hurting him again. “I don’t want you to spend your time. And besides, I have a handyman guy.” She totally didn’t have anything of the sort.

  “It’d take me less than two minutes,” he said. “And no charge.”

  “Cole—”

  “You have any tools?”

  She chewed on her lower lip.

  He smiled. “You have all this stuff, and you don’t have any tools?”

  “I collect only pretty stuff,” she said, and gave him a reluctant smile. “And I’ve never found a pretty tool, or I’d undoubtedly have some here for sale.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, unperturbed. “I’m packing.”

  This didn’t surprise her. He was known as the local MacGyver, able to fix things in the blink of an eye with whatever he had on him…“Not necessary,” she said, annoyingly breathless for no reason. It absolutely wasn’t just the sight of him in one of his pairs of sexy cargo pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that fit his rugged physique so well. She stood and dusted herself off. “Like I said, I was just closing, so…”

  He flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

  “Yes,” she said, “but you’re on the wrong side of the door.”

  He just smiled. “You’re good with kids, you know.”

  For some reason, that caught her completely off guard. Maybe it was because no one had said such a thing to her before, ever.

  “Personal experience?” he asked.

  “Are you feeling out if I have kids?”

  “Or a husband,” he said, unabashedly. “Kids I wouldn’t mind at all. A husband…that’s probably an obstacle I can’t get around.”

  She laughed. “I have neither, not that it matters.” She pointed to the sling. “Have you been to a doctor?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s just an old shoulder injury that I retweaked, that’s all.”

  “Hauling me out of the water the other day.”

  “Hauling myself out of the water,” he corrected.

  She didn’t buy that, not for a second, but looking into his stubborn expression, complete with squared jaw and that little bit of scruff she was determined not to find attractive in the slightest, she knew she’d get nowhere arguing the point. “Why are you here?”

  “I don’t tend to question the universe,” he said blandly.

  She had to laugh. “You know what I mean. Why are you here in my shop?”

  “Maybe I’m here to buy something.”

  “You need a Halloween costume?” she asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “I just got some new ones in,” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz and Miley Cyrus.”

  Not scared off, he grinned. “I could rock either.”

  That tore yet another laugh out of her, and his gaze slid to her mouth. “That’s a really good look on you,” he murmured. “More of that.”

  “You’re pretty demanding for such a laid-back guy,” she said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “I’ve had no complaints.”

  Of course not. Looking like he did, with that long, leanly muscled bod— Not going there…

  Not even a little.

  Too late! the devil on her shoulder cried gleefully, the slut. “I’ve really got to clean up,” Olivia said.

  “Need help?”

  “No, thank you.” She paused to wonder why it was that his voice, with its deep, low timbre, never failed to give her a shiver. The really good kind of shiver. “I’ve got it. I’m going out the back to lock up my car. Feel free to let yourself out.”

  For some reason this made him smile as he rocked back on his heels.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, looking even more amused.

  “You’re a strange man,” she said, and headed into the back. “You know the way out. Use it.”

  Assuming he’d do just that, she strode through her storage room to the back corner, which also served as her office. Her desk was as neat and organized as her storage room wasn’t. She kept it so because the business side of things didn’t come easily to her. She had to work hard at keeping herself on track with the bookkeeping.

  The answering machine was blinking, reminding her that she hadn’t answered the phone during Drama Day with the kids. Damn. She hit PLAY and sighed at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  “What’s it going to be on that happy reunion?” Tamilyn asked.

  Delete.

  The next message shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. It was the producer from TV Land. He was smart enough to get to the point. “Call me.”

  Delete.

  Next to her desk was an antique armoire that had come from the movie set of a remake of A Christmas Carol. She’d played one of the orphans. It’d been one of her favorite jobs, and the piece meant a lot to her, which was why it was back here in use and not out in the shop for sale.

  She opened the armoire to pull out her coat.

  The footsteps behind her shouldn’t have been a surprise. Her back to Cole, she went utterly still for a beat because he smelled…delicious, like he’d recently showered. She inhaled deeply, then pretended she wasn’t trying to catch a bigger whiff of him as she turned, buttoning up her coat. “Thought you left,” she said.

  “You thought wrong. Family reunion?”

  “What?”

  “Your first phone message.”

  Of course he’d heard the word “reunion” and assumed it’d be a family reunion. This was because he was normal. He could have no possible idea that this particular reunion had nothing to do with reality.

  “I thought you didn’t have any family.”

  “This is…extended family.” As in very extended.

  “Do you ever miss Kentucky?”

  She nearly gave a choked laugh. Kentucky represented her first seven years of life, which had been spent in a single-wide on cement blocks that leaked in the rain, and it’d rained a lot. It had meant a lot of long, cold nights in the winter and longer hot, sticky nights in the summer. It had meant an unhappy, stressed-out mom, hungry bellies, and uncertainty.

  But that had been a long time ago, a lifetime ago, in fact.

  “No,” she said as simply as she dared. “I don’t miss Kentucky. Why are you here again?”

  He pulled something from his pocket. Black lace.

  Her panties.

  “Oh, my God,” she said.

  “Thought you might want them back.”

  She gaped at him. “What if they’d fallen out of your pocket? What if you’d gotten in a wreck and been taken to the hospital with women’s underwear on you? What if—”

  Laughing, he put a finger over her lips. “You always worry about the worst-case scenario?”

  Yes. Always.

  She pushed his hand away from her mouth, snatched the panties, and then turned from him. She needed a moment without his sharp gaze to recover from the oddly electric touch of his finger on her mouth.

  And what it had done to her.

  “I was hoping to take you out to dinner as a thank-you for saving my life.”

  She hadn’t been big on guys in a while. If she was being honest, she hadn’t really even tried since the summer after college. The guy she’d been dating had discovered the Not Again, Hailey! DVDs. He’d had a showing with a hundred of his closest friends and charged admission, thinking it was funny as hell to promise people her autograph.

  Instead, it’d been mortifying as hell.

  “Long silence,” Cole said. “Doesn
’t bode well. You’re seeing someone, then.”

  She hesitated, considered lying, and then shook her head. She’d lied about enough already. “No.”

  “You sure? You need another minute to decide?”

  He was laughing at her. She gave him a long look. “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  He was going to make her say it. She kept forgetting that his smile might be guileless and effortlessly easy, but he was no pushover. He was one of those sneak-up-on-you alphas; all charm and charisma, so that you barely noticed that you were doing exactly what he wanted, giving him whatever he was seeking…and all because of that sexy smile. “Are you seeing anyone?” she asked through her teeth.

  “I’m hoping I’m seeing you. For dinner.”

  There was a pause, and their gazes locked. And then her pulse jumped the starting gate. “A thank-you dinner isn’t necessary,” she said. “You know exactly how the other morning went, which was you saving me.”

  He closed the distance between them.

  Refusing to back up, she lifted her chin and met his gaze evenly.

  “You put your life on the line for me, Supergirl,” he said quietly, no trace of his usual good humor in his low, husky voice. “I’m going to fix your lock. And then I’m going to buy you dinner.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Dinner had implications. Dinner would be admitting there was an attraction, something she wasn’t ready for, because once she went there, the countdown was on.

  The countdown to him walking away.

  Why let it get there at all? “No,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask why after you’ve been turned down for a date,” she said. “It’s in the Man Handbook under the instructions on how to deal with women.”

  He flashed a grin. “I never read instructions.”

  “And I suppose you don’t ask for directions, either,” she said.

  “Don’t need ’em. I always know where I’m going.”

  Oh boy. She just bet he did. But she couldn’t do this, no matter how tempting his mischievous, sexy smile was. She had no track record, at least no good track record. She never managed to keep anyone in her life, and yes, she knew that was all on her. She’d never quite been lovable enough.

  Some things couldn’t be changed.

  “Okay,” she said, “this has been fun, but I’ve got to get home now, so—”

  He turned and headed out to the front room. To leave, she thought. Perfect.

  So why she felt like grabbing him was beyond her.

  She followed to lock up behind him, but though he went to the door, he didn’t go. He pulled something from one of his cargo pockets and went to work on the lock. And then two minutes later, slid the tool back into his pocket and locked the door.

  With ease.

  He turned to her with a smile. “You’ve also got a few bulbs out in the back office. You got lightbulbs?”

  “I’ll do it myself when I borrow a ladder—”

  “You don’t need a ladder.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Okay, maybe you need a ladder. I don’t,” he said. “Bulbs?”

  “It’s not just the bulbs,” she said. “I’ve already tried replacing them.”

  “So something’s wrong with the electrical. I’ll take a look.”

  She thought about what had happened on the boat when he’d been working on the electrical wiring. He’d been shocked and had fallen into the water. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can fix it.”

  “But I don’t need you to,” she said.

  He cocked his head and looked at her. “Is there some sort of problem here?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Fine. It’s just that the last time you tried to fix something electrical, you…” She grimaced. “You know.”

  He paused. “No,” he said, “I don’t know.”

  Well, crap. God save her from a man’s fragile ego. “You had an…issue.”

  He looked at her like she’d just questioned his manhood. “First you think I can’t swim,” he said, “and now you think I can’t fix an electrical problem. Jesus, woman, why don’t you just castrate me while you’re at it?”

  “Listen, this isn’t necessary. I—” She broke off when he held out his hand, palm up.

  “Lightbulb,” he said shortly.

  She blew out a sigh and gave up, opening the bottom drawer of an oak filing cabinet, then pulling out the box of free bulbs she’d gotten at the Green Fair on the pier the week before.

  Cole took a bulb and nudged her out of the way. Then he carefully scooped aside a stack of receipts on her desk. Planting a hand there, he vaulted onto the surface with the ease of a track and field Olympian.

  A really hot Olympian.

  She stared at his running shoes. Battered. Her gaze moved north up his long legs. He had a lot of pockets in those cargoes, and she wondered what else was in them.

  She didn’t have to wonder what was beneath them; she’d seen it all.

  And just remembering had her swallowing hard.

  Stretching up with his good arm, he unscrewed the dark bulb. As he did, his T-shirt rose, revealing the low-riding waistband of the cargoes and the equally low-riding waistband of his BVDs—navy blue, if one was taking notes—and…

  A strip of tanned male skin with just the hint of two dimples—

  “Olivia.”

  She blinked at the laughter in his voice and tilted her head back to find him staring down at her with great amusement.

  “Hit the lights,” he said, thankfully not commenting on the fact she’d just gotten caught staring at his ass. “I’d hate to electrocute myself and prove you right that I’m indeed an idiot. Sam and Tanner would love that.”

  “They’d love it if you electrocuted yourself?”

  “No, but they’d enjoy the shit out of me making a fool of myself in front of you.”

  “I don’t get men,” she said, baffled.

  He laughed low in his throat with what might have been agreement as she turned off the lights. Since the sun was just setting but hadn’t yet vanished, they still had ambient lighting slanting in the two windows that faced the street, but it wasn’t much. As a result, the room had been plunged into a sort of black-and-white landscape.

  Cole easily replaced the bulb with a new one. “Hit ’em again,” he said.

  She turned on the lights.