"I have a cell phone. I can call the police." There was no way she could spend the night with Sean, was there?
Sean scowled. "Don't stay downtown. Come stay with me."
His words were a cross between a command and a plea. Where had that come from?
"I can't."
"Why not? It's a good idea," Sean said. "I'm not a friend, so you can't say you're taking advantage of me. We're like...business partners."
"I barely know you."
"Not true. We've known each other for the better part of a year. I've been a loyal customer. I'm a respected member of the community."
Melinda snorted.
"Even your designer trusts me."
"She has to, she's related."
"I'm a nice guy. Accept it."
"I can't ask you for help," Melinda said. "I'm a grown woman, and I need to solve things for myself."
"It doesn't make you weak to allow someone to help you."
"I should be able to do it all on my own."
"Come on, let me help." Sean extended his hand. "I have a big house with lots of extra rooms. It's nothing fancy, and I'm in the middle of my own renovations, so you should feel right at home."
Melinda didn't know what to say. It wasn't like she wanted to spend the night at the wine bar. And her bank account was perilously near zero. Maybe she should say yes.
"You make it hard to refuse."
"Besides, I need to make sure you stay in one piece so that you'll be able to pay for all this construction," Sean said with a sarcastic edge to his voice.
Oh dear heavens, what was she agreeing to?
CHAPTER EIGHT
FOR THE THIRD time in the last half hour, Sean wondered what had possessed him to invite Melinda to his house.
When had he become all chivalrous and worried about a client's safety? Less than two weeks into her project and he'd gone from dodging her dagger glances when he'd pop into buy those stupid chocolates to barely being able to stop thinking about her. About things like her long, lustrous black hair. One day it was up in some messy pile on her head, the next it was sleek, straight, and swaying down to the middle of her back making him notice her sweet, nipped-in waist.
Now she was living at his house. He told himself he could handle it. He was an adult, not a hormone-crazed teenager. He was fine that she was in the shower right now. Naked, wet, and all lathered up with shampoo.
Damn. He was no better than a horny sixteen-year-old.
"Come on, Ethel and Lucy, ready for dinner? Let's get you some gourmet kibble."
Two yellow labs wagged their tails and pranced toward the kitchen. The dogs were his mother's, but they had quickly shifted loyalties to him when he'd moved in.
After serving the canines, Sean surveyed his fridge and weighed his options between the leftover steak slices and the boneless grilled chicken. Yup, there were avocados, too. Soft tacos were on the menu.
He got the rice and beans cooking on the stove and pulled an assortment of veggies out of the crisper, some for the tacos and others for salad. Not too bad for an impromptu dinner for two.
Sean kicked the fridge door shut with his boot. Ha! Not like this was a romantic evening. He was only helping out a client. Okay, so he'd never invited one to stay with him overnight. But, no, this was nothing like a date.
Ethel nudged his leg, and Lucy waited patiently by the back door. With food in their bellies, it was time for lolling on the back porch and watching the squirrels and birds get ready for bed.
He let the girls out, stirred the beans, and turned down the flame under the now boiling rice. He grabbed a knife and began slicing peppers and mincing cilantro.
A soft footfall and a creaking floorboard penetrated his brain. Sean looked up, and Melinda hesitated at the threshold.
"I'm sorry I took so long," Melinda said in a rush. "I hope dinner isn't ruined."
"Not at all, I'm still prepping. Chicken tacos and a salad okay?"
"Perfect. It smells scrumptious." Melinda's voice was like a lilting breeze, almost as if she was buzzing with joy. She rapped her knuckles on the counter twice and grinned. "Would you believe I'm doing my first interview tomorrow? A reporter from a Denver lifestyles magazine called and asked to chat with me about the wine bar." Melinda's voice bubbled with enthusiasm and Sean couldn't help but grin back at her.
"That could be great for your business."
"I know. She said some friends of hers had stopped by early in the summer and really liked it. Now, she's doing a piece on fresh new things in Vail, and she thought of me."
"Congrats. I hope you're the main feature in the story."
Pride lit her face. This was a big deal for her.
"I started this almost on a wing, a whim, and a prayer."
Sean stopped mid-carrot-chop as Melinda twirled once and then plopped down on a barstool across from him.
"It's already a favorite place for the locals," Sean said. "Even here in Wescott Springs, I've heard folks talking about Friday nights there. I think you've got traction."
"The location is pretty much perfect and right in the heart of it all. I've got high hopes for this ski season."
"You may have Mother Nature on your side. The snow’s supposed to be off the charts this year."
"Well, I hope they're better at predicting snow than they are at guessing how many hurricanes blow through the islands. I was never impressed with those forecasts."
Sean laughed. "It's more art than science, I suppose."
Melinda's hair was caught back in a low ponytail, but a long wisp tickled at the edge of her chin. She snagged a baby carrot off the cutting board and crunched into it with a careless snap. She idly swung one of her denim-clad legs and glanced around the kitchen. "What can I help with? Do you want me to slice up the cantaloupe?"
"Sure. Cutting boards are in the narrow cabinet to the left of the sink and knives are in the rack next to the toaster." Sean waved in the direction of the stove top as Melinda popped to her feet in one lithe motion. "Serving bowls are on the middle shelf in the pantry."
She hummed under her breath as she poked around the kitchen finding what she needed. She seemed entirely at ease amid the dented oak cabinetry, teal walls, and faded flowery wallpaper border that had been his mother's pride and joy in the late eighties. It had been on the tip of his tongue to apologize for the dated surroundings, but Melinda didn't seem to notice.
Had he been wrong about her being a flighty party girl? If she was telling him the truth, she'd been saving all her profits to invest them back into her business. That showed determination and savvy. Colette had been all perfect clothes and material possessions. As Melinda wielded the long knife and rapidly separated the peachy melon flesh from its rind, she exuded confidence and comfort.
She glanced up and their gazes held for a moment. "What?" She blinked but smiled easily.
"Nothing. Keep chopping." He lowered his head and focused on the tomatoes. "It's nice to have company."
"Isn't it?"
She was way too easy to be around. Sean had a sneaking suspicion that he might be in trouble.
* * * *
"The house simply oozes charm and warmth." Melinda scanned the living room and smiled as her gaze settled on the pair of canines drowsing on their matching pillows by the hearth.
"You're being too kind. It's a work in progress," Sean replied. "This is actually where I grew up. My mother moved out in the spring when she went to the nursing home. She needed money for the full-time care facility, so I bought the house. It's almost a hundred years old, and it's been in our family the whole time. I didn't want to let it go."
"It looks like you've worked your renovation magic on it," Melinda said. "I'm betting those lofty beams and vaulted ceiling aren't original."
"You're right. The entire living room is a brand new addition, but the back of the house is the spruced up original."
"I love the mix of logs and timbers, and there’s a hint of farmhouse," Melinda said. "It has a homey vibe.
"
"I probably need to hire Jill to come give it her designer touch, but right now I'm still making a lot of dust."
Sean motioned for Melinda to follow him.
"Would you like some tea? I have mint and probably chamomile or something like that."
"I'm sure that will work."
They walked back into the kitchen and Sean made a dismissive noise under his breath. "As you may have guessed, I haven't done anything to the kitchen yet. It still has the eighties oak thing going on from when my parents remodeled after they inherited the house."
"This was a style?" she said with her fingers pressed against her lips and tried not to smile. "That dark aqua on the walls is lovely, really, it’s almost tropical. I love vibrant colors. It reminds me of my childhood."
"There's no need to try to compliment the space," Sean said. "I'm far from attached to it. As a matter of fact, it's a winter time project. Full gut and modernization."
"At least, it's a functioning kitchen."
"That's all I really need, but with my line of work, I can't help but see this house as a massive to-do list."
Melinda waved airily. "We never settle for good enough, do we?"
Sean shook his head with a sheepish smile warming his lips, and Melinda nodded knowingly. They chatted easily as Melinda filled the kettle and Sean pulled out mugs, tea, milk, and sugar.
They brushed arms and bumped hips as they traded places at the counter, and each time a tingling awareness danced along Melinda's skin. It was electric. It was enticing...but it was off-limits.
With a steaming brew in her cup, Melinda made a beeline back to the living room and found a lone rocking chair next to the dogs. She needed some distance from Sean.
A few days ago, she'd been sure Sean was an arrogant ass, but now, she didn't think she'd ever met someone so charming. Hmm. Charmingly stubborn. Not that she was in danger of losing her head. She liked to flirt, but she didn't cross the line with a business associate. That would be too complicated.
So she sipped her tea and made polite chitchat, then said her goodnights and headed right upstairs to her bedroom. She closed the door without a backward glance and would certainly never admit that she leaned against the solid paneled door. Or that she listened to her pulse beat in her ears as she tried to catch her breath.
And just maybe, she tossed restlessly in her sheets and woke up at least three times, dreaming of Sean's touch and his husky whisper in her ear.
CHAPTER NINE
THURSDAY WHIRLED BY as Melinda met with Jill to check samples and gawk at the chairs and tables that had newly arrived at Jill's warehouse. Afterward, they brought a hot lunch to share with Sean at the wine bar. After a quick workout and a run to the grocery store, Melinda found herself in Sean's guest bedroom once again.
With a last swipe of mascara, Melinda wagged her finger at herself in the mirror. She was putting a little too much effort into looking good for her dinner companion. It wasn't like it was moonlight and candles. No, it was a chili and cornbread in a country kitchen with a pair of lazy dogs praying for a few lucky crumbs to hit the floor.
But she couldn't help but savor the crackle of expectation, if not excitement, that seemed to dance through the air. As she left her bedroom, Lucy and Ethel stampeded around her legs and nosed her hands as if begging for head scratches.
She glanced up, and there was Sean. His hair was still damp and wavy on the top but dry on the close-cropped sides. His jeans hugged his hips, and his shirt was soft and low buttoned.
Melinda's mouth went dry, and her mind went blank. All she could do was blink, look at her toes, and then smile up at him with her head still angled down. She cooed over the dogs and gently pulled at Lucy's golden ears.
As they walked down the stairs, the spicy scents of chili wafted up to her nose. "It smells fantastic."
"Thank the slow cooker. It's actually from a huge batch that I made up last winter. It's perfect for the first chilly mountain night. Summer’s almost over."
From the last few steps, Melinda heard the snaps and pops coming from the fireplace, and a cheerful roar of flames greeted her as they cruised through the living room.
"The seasons are definitely changing. I'm waiting for the first frost, but it sure was nippy getting into my car this morning."
"Hungry?" Sean asked as he led the way to the kitchen.
Melinda puckered her lips as she admired the rock-hard curves of his cheeks. Yes, she was hungry for something, but dinner was not the first thing that popped into her brain.
* * * *
The dishes were washed and music played in the background as Sean and Melinda sat on opposites ends of the mahogany brown leather couch. They’d talked of everything Colorado and its mountains, hiking, and skiing. Then they’d shared stories of growing their businesses from scratch.
As the last glow of daylight succumbed to the night, Melinda poured out a few more ounces of wine as Sean sparingly sipped at his. She tried not to laugh at his careful politeness over flavors that were likely far from tasty for him. She'd better not make fun of him, or she'd be shamed into drinking one of his strong ales.
"Delightful palate." Sean pinched his lips together and made a popping noise and let his eyes widen in mock surprise.
"Shush. Give it a chance. You might like it."
"An acquired taste, I'm sure. Actually, I'm no stranger to wines. My last girlfriend was always serving some fancy wine or another, and my ex-wife loved sweet wines."
"I didn't know you'd been married."
"Once, when I was just a pup," Sean said.
"You're not all that old, so it couldn't have been that long ago," Melinda said.
"True, I suppose, but the difference between twenty and thirty-five seems like an eternity." Sean shifted in his chair and switched his drink from one hand to the other as he stared at the crackling fire.
"And a world of emotional growth," Melinda said. "I know I'm barely like the girl I was back then. I suppose it is still me, deep down, but I've changed so much. I value different things."
"What about you?"
"I got married very young too," Melinda said. "To a much older man who swept me off of my very unsteady, unworldly feet at the green age of eighteen." Melinda pursed her lips. Sean had neatly steered the conversation away from himself and back to her. She supposed it wouldn't kill her to share a little of her history.
"What happened?"
"He was glamorous and powerful, and he escorted me to party after party. I think at first I was just a piece of arm candy for him, but later, he truly fell in love with me. Unfortunately, we fought constantly. Over little things and big ones. He was possessive and petty, and we were basically on the rocks when he had a massive heart attack. And well, that was that. I was a widow at twenty-eight."
Melinda swirled the wine in her glass and could still hear the echoes from the past. Slamming doors. Ugly words shouted. Smashing glass. And then the thrumming roar of his car engine as he sped away from the docks.
"We had a massive argument. He stormed off, and he went clubbing."
Melinda tried not to sigh. The next thing she remembered was the phone call from the police informing her that Diego was dead. His Ferrari had crashed. There was a woman with him, but she was in a hospital bed with mangled legs. She said that Diego had clutched his chest and slumped into the steering wheel before the vehicle had smashed into a stone wall.
"Diego died of heart attack that night." Her voice was calm, almost detached sounding. "On a dark road. With a stray woman he'd picked up at a bar."
Sean gazed at her, and the empathy in his eyes was a balm to her still-battered spirit.
"Funny," Sean said. "My story is different, but yet, so similar in its own, sad way."
"What was her name?"
"Anna," Sean replied. "I was only twenty when we met. It was lust at first sight, and before we knew it, she was pregnant. We were both scared, but I sobered up pretty quickly, and we got married within a month."
"Not exactly a promising start."
"Definitely not. We fought all the time. Money. Laundry. Where to live. Everything." He thumped his palm against his thigh. "We'd been married for almost six weeks when we had a blowout about something. I don't even remember what. I said some stupid, hurtful things and she flew out of the house in a whirlwind of tears and fury."
Melinda's heart lurched. A wild car ride that ended in sorrow, too.
"The police called...just like with you." Sean frowned and seemed to be lost in a memory. "Except Anna only had a broken arm, but she lost the baby."
"How far along was she?" Melinda asked gently.
"Only four months, but I was surprised by how much I'd already grown attached to the idea of being a daddy."
Melinda bit her lip to hold back her gasp of sympathy.
"We grew closer after that," he continued. "But once I started the construction company, we started fighting again. She wanted another baby, but I didn't. My whole attention was on the business. After a while, she started to get bitter and blamed me more and more for the accident and the miscarriage."
"That's not fair at all," Melinda said.
"In her mind, if I hadn't been so mean and so mad, she would have never run off in a rage and would have never gotten in that wreck. It all got ugly after that. She ran around with half of my work crew before I figured it out and filed for divorce."
"That's terrible," Melinda said.
"Not too pretty, but then I don't think there's a charming divorce story in existence."
"How long were you married?"
"Six long years," he said. "It was enough to convince me that I'm not likely the marrying kind."
Melinda winced. It was her exact sentiment, but it sounded so hard and final when Sean said it. The conversation moved on, but Melinda couldn't shake the funny feeling that she'd lost something, but she wasn't quite sure what.
"So, in your expert opinion, how is the remodel of the wine bar going?" Melinda deliberately put a cheerful lift in her voice. She needed to dispel the flat feeling that lingered over her.
"Completely on track." Sean set his empty mug on the end table and crossed his legs. "I still expect that it'll be wrapped up by the end of the promised three weeks."
Kiss Me at Last (A Wescott Springs Novella) Page 5
