“No.”
But my heart is suddenly thumping like a snare drum.
Dammit, I like this vulnerable side of him, his care. True, he’s a towering man with muscles, seemingly invincible, but there’s a gentleness about him that makes my heart tighten.
He smells intoxicating, and with our faces this close, I notice the feathery lines at the corners of his mercurial eyes. I see a small scar on his temple. I take in the strong muscles in his throat, the light dusting of dark hair I see below his neck. I wonder if there’s a lot of hair on his chest. My mind wanders, and I imagine his abdomen, if he has a six-or an eight-pack; then I’m tangled up in thoughts about his penis—is there a curve, which direction does it point, is he circumcised, if his height and broad shoulders suggest a girthy cock, and what color the spring of hair would be—
And nope. I have a cat.
“Yeah, I don’t think I have a concussion,” I say as I ease away, grab a ziplock bag, and fill it with ice from the machine.
Leaning against the stainless steel counter, I press the bag to my face, focusing on the bridge of my nose and not the man next to me.
“So, tell me about this fight with the mop. You lost?”
“I banged it while pushing the bucket we use to mop up spills. Some of our employees didn’t show, so I’m doing odd jobs.”
“Ah.”
I exhale. The mop incident is just another reminder that the store is going away. My stomach churns all over again. “I guess you saw the sign on the door. We’re closing for good. Our people are skipping work to look for other jobs. My gran worked here for years. My siblings and I ran around, had meals in the kitchen, played hide-and-seek . . .” My voice trails off. I even got to first base with my crush on the velvet settee upstairs.
Just memories from the past, written on my heart.
I lower the ice pack, thinking. He and I don’t know each other, but we’ve been through something together. I can’t unload on Babs because she’ll try to fix things, like find me a job in Alaska. I can’t with my siblings, because Jane is going through her own issues, and Andrew is already on the verge of quitting school. “It’s like, losing the store is just another piece of her gone. Pretty soon I won’t have anything left.”
My chest rises. “Then, there’s the apartment where I live. My gran took out a second mortgage to help my mom. I know selling is the right thing to do, to get out of debt, and start fresh in a cheaper place, but it’s hard to let go after all the sacrifices Gran made for us, you know? She is, was, my mother.”
“I’m sorry,” he says softly.
I give him a wan smile. “Sorry for venting. Bet you wished you hadn’t shown up to taunt me with Mina.”
He takes the ice from my numb hands and places it on the counter. His words are whisper soft. “She’s not my fiancée. That position is only for you.”
My breath catches.
A myriad of expressions flit over his face, ones I can’t decipher. “It must be you.”
I take in the diamond cheekbones, the beautiful lines of his jaw, and the way his eyes peer into mine with that deep, intense look.
“My answer is no. I don’t want to get married. And about the car . . . I think you’re the kind of person who would forgive me.” He has empathy for the guy who tackled him. Maybe he can spare some understanding for me.
Seconds tick by as he stares at me, emotions flitting over his face. Then he turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me there.
Shit. I groan. Maybe I’ve misjudged him, and he’s calling the police.
I start when the kitchen door flies open, and he stalks back inside, his chest heaving out an exhale as he stops in front of me. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
I dip my face and hide a smile. “Welcome back. So you aren’t going to put me behind bars?”
“I never would have, and you know it.”
I touch his arm, and the act sends a buzzing hot zap down my spine. His muscles are taut and hard. I let my hand fall away. “So let me help you out with Mina. What can I do? She clearly likes you. And she is sweet, even if she did say my windows are ‘cute.’”
He rubs his face with both hands, his tone exasperated. “Of course she likes me. She’s my cousin. She thinks I’m interested in you—romantically. She came along to be my wingwoman.”
I can’t hide the smile anymore and giggle. “You dragged her in here to push me into making a decision?”
“Yes.” His eyes narrow. “But with you, I need to be a bit more . . . persuasive.”
I rub my hands together. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“I have a confession.”
My stomach pitches in hope. “What? Your car is perfectly fine? That photo you sent is a fake? Please say it’s so.”
“No, it’s wrecked, completely totaled.” He spears me with his steely gaze, the one that makes my hackles rise. “I bought the bookstore.”
I take a step back and gasp. “You found out where I worked, then decided to pull the rug out from under me . . . in what . . . revenge? All because of a stupid car?”
“A four-hundred-thousand-dollar car,” he growls as he crosses his arms. “Think about it, Emmy. Of course I was going to find out who you are, especially when I discovered Brody knew you. I came into the store to talk to you, and when you weren’t here, I thought I’d check in with the owner to see what kind of person you were—seeing as I had so little to base my knowledge on.”
“Terry knows I stole a car?”
“No.”
Thank God. He’s like the uncle I never had. And I never want Jane and Andrew to know I made such a dumb mistake. I’m supposed to be a role model for them.
“But when I saw his fishing boat, we had a conversation about retirement, and I said I might be interested in buying the store. We exchanged numbers, and I called him the next day.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I do invest in property, Emmy. It happened organically.”
I shake my head. “You wanted leverage. You knew you wouldn’t press charges about the car, so you bought the store. You’re a diabolical devil.”
“I only found this place because of you. You’re the common denominator in this.”
“Thanks for reminding me this is all my fault.” I turn my back to him and stomp to the door.
“Dammit,” he mutters as he catches my arm. “Wait, don’t walk away. Just listen to me.”
I flip around. “What?”
He struggles with what to say, brows lowered, then lifts his hands. “Christ! Fine. I wanted leverage, and if it didn’t work, I could have resold it.”
“But how did you know that I loved it so much?”
He sighs. “Terry mentioned that you’d wanted to buy it someday, so . . .”
It’s too absurd. “Why go to such lengths? For me?”
“Because my mind is set on you,” he murmurs.