Healed with a Kiss

by Gina Wilkins

  She laughed and playfully punched his arm. “Watch it, pal. You aren’t quite as cute as Ninja.”

  Despite his teasing, he brushed a smiling kiss across her mouth, then raised an arm to display the brown paper bag dangling from his hand. “As promised, I brought dinner.”

  He’d texted earlier with an offer to bring take-out Chinese food, and though she’d had several chores to take care of this evening, she’d told him to come on over. She didn’t always drop everything when Logan called; more than once she’d told him it wasn’t a good time. But she’d wanted to see him tonight. After all, she’d be leaving for Seattle in a few days and she’d be hectically busy after she returned. And she had to eat, right?

  Shaking her head in response to her own convoluted reasoning, she waved a hand toward the kitchen. “I just need to put a load of laundry in the dryer and then I’ll be ready to eat.”

  “I’ll set the table.”

  “Thanks. There’s wine in the fridge. I chilled the Riesling you like.”

  “Sounds good.” Unerringly, he opened the cabinet that held her plates. As she stepped into the laundry room, which opened off the kitchen, it occurred to her that Logan had become very familiar with her house. He was as at home in her kitchen as in her bedroom.

  When had that happened, exactly? He hadn’t been here that many times, had he? She did a quick mental count and was rather surprised by the estimated number she reached. What had started out as an occasional hookup was on the verge of becoming habit.

  She should probably do something about that. Later.

  Chapter Five

  Still distracted by her wandering thoughts about Logan, Alexis opened the lid of her aging washing machine, then groaned when she saw her clothes still sitting in a tub of water.

  “Problem?” Logan asked from the doorway.

  “It didn’t drain.”

  “Here, let me take a look.”

  Sighing, she stood back while Logan moved past her. “Looks like a broken drive belt,” he said a couple minutes later. “Is the machine yours or provided in your rent?”

  “The washer and dryer are mine, so I’m responsible for their maintenance. I’ll have to call a repairman tomorrow.”

  “No need for that. None of the appliance parts stores are open on Sunday evening, but I can pick up a belt for you tomorrow. I’ll come by tomorrow night to put it on.”

  She shook her head. “There’s no reason for you to go to all that trouble. I’ll just call a repairman first thing in the morning.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This is what I do, remember? I fix things like this all the time around the inn. This isn’t even a difficult repair. It’ll take me maybe twenty minutes. But you know how much you’d have to pay a repairman just for the service call, not to mention parts and labor?”

  “If it’s that easy, maybe it’s something I can do myself?”

  Logan pushed a hand through his hair, beginning to frown. “Is there some reason you don’t want me to fix your washing machine?”

  She didn’t have an answer—even for herself. Why was she so uncomfortable at the thought of having Logan help her with a repair? It was no big deal, right? Friends did this sort of thing for each other. She would lend him a hand with a problem if she could, wouldn’t she? Had he not just happened to be here when she discovered the problem, she’d have handled it just fine on her own by calling a repairman, but of course Logan would offer to take care of it since, as he’d pointed out, this was what he did all the time.

  “I just hate for you to go to all that trouble,” she said lamely.

  “No trouble. I’ll write down the numbers from the machine, pick up the belt on the way over tomorrow and have you doing laundry half an hour after I get here.”

  “I’ll reimburse you for the belt, of course.” She almost added that she would also pay him for his time, but something told her that would only annoy him. “And dinner’s on me tomorrow night.”

  He nodded, seeming to accept her excuse that she hadn’t wanted to take advantage of him. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold. I’ll help you empty the washer afterward.”

  Pushing her complicated concerns to the back of her mind, she smiled rather tensely and turned back to the kitchen.

  “Did you get everything cleared away from Josie’s wedding?” she asked during the meal, retreating to the comfort of talking about their work.

  “Yeah. There was a big retirement party in the dining room this afternoon and Kinley wanted all the decorations down beforehand so the party guests could walk through the gardens. We had all signs of the wedding gone last night.”

  “I know I’ve already told you, but the grounds really did look exceptionally nice yesterday. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we both get bookings as a result of that wedding.”

  “Thanks. Wish they were all that easy,” he added pointedly.

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Let’s not start that again.”

  Logan didn’t smile, but concentrated on stirring the remains of his food aimlessly with his chopsticks as he looked at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but found her gaze locked with his for several long moments. What was he thinking? It was so often hard to tell with him, but especially now.

  He was the one who broke off the eye contact. He pushed his nearly empty plate away. “We need to unload that washer so I can get the model number.”

  She’d finished her own dinner, so she stood and carried her plate to the sink, still feeling a little flustered by that tense moment between them. “I’ll get a bucket and some plastic tumblers for bailing.”

  Fortunately, the washer held only three pairs of wet jeans, so she didn’t have to wring out soggy underwear with him. She threw the jeans into a plastic laundry basket to deal with later, and then she and Logan bailed the standing water from the machine into a bucket that she emptied several times into the backyard. After he’d gotten the information he needed to buy the necessary belt, she turned off the laundry room light and closed the door, following him back into the kitchen.

  “Would you like some more wine?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “What I would like—”

  However he might have finished that sentence, and she thought she knew, he was interrupted by a chime from his phone announcing a text message. He glanced down at the screen, then grimaced. “I have to go.”

  She tried to mask her disappointment behind concern. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “One of the guests accidentally broke the bifold closet door in her room and now she can’t open it. Bonnie said Paul would have tried to fix it, but I’ve got my tools locked up. I’d better go take care of it.”

  He gave her a firm kiss at the door that expressed his frustration at having to leave, and then he motioned Ninja to his side. Suddenly weary, Alexis sighed as she closed the door behind them. Her supposedly stress-free, no-strings affair with Logan seemed to be growing more complicated. Maybe she’d been naive to have thought it could stay easy and breezy. Logan was not an easy man.

  * * *

  Logan kept an eye on his watch Monday afternoon. He needed to leave early enough to stop by the appliance parts store on his way to Alexis’s house. He’d already called to order the belt, and had been promised it would be waiting for him.

  He still didn’t quite understand why Alexis had been so hesitant for him to take care of this for her. It would have been ridiculous for her to pay a repair guy to make a twenty-minute house call to install a fifteen-buck part. He knew she was the stubbornly independent type—as she’d said herself, she liked to be in charge—but what was the harm in letting a friend lend a hand for something he knew how to do?

  He had just put away his lawn-care tools for the day when Bonnie came outside. “Did you remember to order the new faucet for suite 3?”
/>   He nodded. “It’ll be in tomorrow.”

  “Good. Oh, by the way, I’m baking fish for dinner. It will be ready to serve by six.”

  Though he didn’t dine with them every evening, he joined her and Paul often enough for meals that she routinely prepared enough for him. “Sounds good, thanks, but I already have plans for dinner tonight. Actually, I have to leave shortly.”

  Bonnie’s brows lifted in surprise. “Really? You’re going out again tonight?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “No reason,” she assured him a bit too nonchalantly. “You’ve just been going out quite a bit lately.”

  He tugged one of her loose blond curls, speaking indulgently. “I’m getting all my homework done, Mom.”

  She laughed softly and leaned affectionately against him. “I’m not fussing. Just wondering if you’re ever going to introduce us to this woman Kinley and I suspect you’re seeing.”

  He kissed her forehead, then stepped away from her. “See you tomorrow, Bonnie.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed heavily. “Fine. Have a good evening.”

  “I intend to.”

  Climbing into his truck, he wondered if he should feel guiltier that he and Alexis were deliberately misleading his sisters. By the time he’d driven as far as Bride Mountain Café—perhaps a quarter mile from his house—he’d decided he didn’t feel at all guilty. Just picturing his well-intentioned sisters avidly watching them every time Alexis came to the inn for work made him wince. It would be different if they could just accept the relationship for what it was. He’d briefly dated a few other women in the past few years, and his sisters hadn’t gotten carried away, not expecting him to settle down permanently with any of them. Something told him it would be different with Alexis.

  It would be nice, he thought as he left the appliance store with the drive belt in hand, if he and Alexis could just see each other when they wanted to, maybe even go out in public together without everyone making a big deal of it. He wouldn’t mind having dinner with her somewhere other than her kitchen. Preferably somewhere that there wouldn’t even be a chance of them running into curious friends or clients. They’d taken a slight risk of exposure when they’d gone hiking last week, but it had been a calculated risk. They’d be somewhat more likely to be recognized at a local restaurant.

  So maybe they should find a restaurant that wasn’t local. One in a different city, entirely.

  Say, Seattle, perhaps.

  Alexis met him at the door with a slightly distracted smile. “I was just going over my lists,” she admitted, nodding toward the tablet computer on the table. “My plane leaves at eleven tomorrow morning, and I’m always afraid I’ll forget to pack something.”

  “Do you have a ride to the airport?”

  “Yes, Gretchen’s taking me. She’ll be staying here at my house at night while I’m gone to take care of Fiona and keep an eye on things.”

  Shifting his tool bag in his left hand, he moved toward the laundry room. “I’ll get your washer going so you can finish your laundry.”

  “I think I have everything important washed for now. What can I do to help you?”

  “Stay out of my way. Go pack or fuss in the kitchen or whatever else you need to do and I’ll have this done in a few minutes.”

  She was never offended by his bluntness, just another one of the many things he liked about her. “All right. I’ll be in my room packing if you need me.”

  As he’d assured her, he changed the belt quickly and efficiently. The machine had an easy-access panel, so it wasn’t a particularly complicated job. He checked his work, tightened everything else in the older machine that seemed to need attention, plugged it back in and made sure it worked as intended, then replaced his tools in the bag. A broom stood in the corner of the little laundry room; he swept the floor quickly to make sure he left it clean. Standing the broom back into place, he frowned suddenly, realizing how domestic this all seemed. He was certainly at ease in Alexis’s house, increasingly familiar with her things, her tastes.

  Shaking off that thought, he dropped his tool bag in the living room and went looking for Alexis. He found her in her bedroom, an open suitcase on the bed, piles of clothes stacked neatly around it. Her tablet computer lay close at hand. Knowing her so well, he was quite sure she had a comprehensive list of everything she needed to pack displayed on the screen.

  Seeing that she was folding what looked suspiciously like a flame-red silk-and-lace nightgown, he frowned. It occurred to him that he’d never actually seen her in a nightgown. She was usually in street clothes when he arrived and often wrapped in a robe when he left. Though he told himself it was none of his business, he couldn’t help wondering if some other guy would see her in that red thing in Seattle.

  “The washer’s fixed,” he said abruptly.

  It was obvious she hadn’t seen him standing there when she started in response to his voice. She dropped the nightgown into the suitcase. “That was quick. No problems, I take it?”

  “No. Easy job. How’s the packing coming?”

  “I’ve finally made myself put away everything I don’t really need to take,” she replied with a laugh. “I’m a notorious overpacker.”

  He didn’t want to talk about her trip. Instead, he headed across the room, his gaze fixed intently on the sweet curve of her lips.

  Her smile faded in response to the look on his face. “Um—”

  He lifted her into his arms and planted his mouth on hers. Though he’d given her no warning, she reacted immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, returning the kiss with enthusiasm. His entire body seemed to harden in response to her eager welcome.

  He took a step forward so that she was partially sitting on the top of her heavy, light-toned wood dresser, steadying herself with her arms on his shoulders. With her weight supported, his hands were free to roam and explore. Dropping her glasses onto the dresser out of the way, he slid his palms beneath her loose knit top, caressing her warm back, shaping her narrow waist, easing around to lift and cup her firm breasts through the bra that covered them. She murmured into his mouth when his thumbs pressed, circled, pushed aside lace to bare the taut tips to his ministrations.

  Crowding closer to her, he swept the inside of her mouth with his tongue and she welcomed him hungrily. Still gripping his shoulder with one hand, she used the other to tug impatiently at the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up over abs and pecs, getting tangled at his chin until he finally released her mouth long enough to sweep the shirt up, off and out of the way. She sighed with an appreciation that stoked his ego even higher as she ran her hands slowly over his chest.

  Her shirt joined his on the floor, followed almost immediately by her bra. Both gasped when skin pressed to skin. Would being with her ever not make his head spin? Shouldn’t familiarity have lessened the wonder at least marginally by now?

  Jeans hit the floor. Hers, then his. Undergarments followed, tossed carelessly aside. Something from the dresser fell to the floor with a thud, but there was no crash of broken glass so he didn’t bother to look down. His attention was focused solely on the naked, willing woman in his arms. Sliding a hand up her soft thigh, he wrapped her leg around him again, then surged forward. Alexis cried out softly in pleasure when he thrust into her tight heat.

  This, he thought with a last moment of coherence, was exactly where he wanted to be.

  * * *

  She wore her robe during the dinner she’d made for them, a beef stew she’d cooked for several hours in a slow cooker. The food was good, but he ate rather perfunctorily. They didn’t talk much during the meal, and when they did they confined their remarks to innocuous work chat. He stayed long enough afterward to help her clear away the dishes, then moved toward the living
room to collect his tool bag.

  Fiona butted against his leg, meowing, and he reached down to pet her. Even though she would have a sitter, Fiona was going to miss Alexis this week.

  “It’ll only be a few days,” he murmured to the cat beneath his breath. “She’ll be back before you know it. It’ll probably be good for you to take a little break from each other.”

  Alexis appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She looked really good in her soft red robe. He tried not to picture her in a thin red column of silk and lace. “Did you say something?”

  He straightened. “Just talking to the cat. I’d better clear out and let you finish packing. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

  She shook her head with a somewhat forced-looking smile. “Not that I can think of. Thank you again for fixing my washer.”

  She had already thanked him repeatedly and insisted on repaying him for the belt, though he’d told her to forget it. “You’re welcome. So, uh—have a good time in Seattle.”

  But not too good, he wanted to add, but didn’t because they didn’t express that sort of wayward thought to each other.

  “Thank you. Do you have any fun plans for while I’m gone? Did you set up a fishing-and-beer outing with your friends?”

  He shrugged. “No. I’ve got an invitation to a party Friday night, but I haven’t given an answer yet.”

  “Oh. Well...um, have a good time, and I’ll see you when I see you.”

  They were both stammering more than usual tonight. Shaking his head, he turned toward the door. “Good night, Alexis.”

  It occurred to him only when he was in his truck and halfway up Bride Mountain that he hadn’t kissed her good-night. Perhaps subconsciously he’d been afraid he wouldn’t want to leave if he did.

  * * *

  Logan didn’t sleep well that night. Nothing new for him―he didn’t require a lot of sleep. He gave up at 4:00 a.m., made a pot of coffee and sat at the computer, figuring he might as well work here until it was light enough to busy himself around the grounds. Accustomed to his master’s odd hours, Ninja made a quick trip outside, then returned to curl at Logan’s feet to finish his snooze.