by Meredith, MK
Finally freeing himself, Mitch stepped away to hide behind Claire. “I missed you about as much as I miss my mother asking me why all of her Victoria Secret magazines always ended up in my bedroom.”
“Ha! That is not surprising.” Blayne laughed.
Setting her heels on the floor, Claire threw her arms around her spunky friend. “When did you get back? I thought you had another week.”
Blayne shook her head. “We’d decided to keep it to a week. We’re heading to Ireland next month to scope out sites for another Eclectic Finds in Glengarriff, but we have a lot to do between the store here and Jamie stepping into his father’s seat in the family biz.” She slid her arm through Larkin’s. “It helps I already have Alora Kingsley running the store here for me.”
“Isn’t that Evette’s niece?” Mitch asked.
“Yes, and the one woman in town you haven’t defiled yet.” Blayne winked to soften the blow.
Mitch simply stuck up his middle finger.
“You two are like brother and sister. We saw Alora yesterday, by the way. With Horace Rosewater’s granddaughter. I like her,” Larkin said.
Blayne’s berry-red lips stretched wide. “Me, too. I haven’t worried about my store since the day I hired her.”
Larkin pulled open Claire’s wine fridge. “I need wine. Max is hanging with her daddy tonight, so I don’t have to be responsible.”
Choosing a Malbec, she moved through the motions of removing the foil and cork. “Besides, we need to toast Claire finally getting off her perky but celibate little booty.”
Nerves skittered across Claire’s chest, feeling as if they were pressing down and stealing her breath. “Okay, I’m meeting a guy for a drink, not a booty call.”
She accepted the offered glass from Larkin.
“Oh, come on.” Blayne fake whined. “Be like Nike and just do it.”
Mitch grabbed a glass and set it none too gently in front of Larkin. “Knock it off. I’d kill the guy if he landed a hand on her.” His growl made the room go silent.
Claire couldn’t help the thrill that ran through her at his irritation. Was he jealous? The thought made her grin even if it shouldn’t.
Blayne and Larkin slowly turned their heads toward Mitch.
She’d rather be going on this date with Mitch. He’d become some sort of seriously sexy safety net. The idea of having to get to know some stranger, of letting him in, sharing her past, made her stomach turn.
He threw up his hands. “He’s a buddy of mine. Nice guy. But I’m not a damn pimp, for Christ’s sake.”
Larkin raised her glass. “Well, regardless of when Claire gets laid, I’m proud of you for getting back out there. Cheers.”
“For one, I don’t need a man to satisfy myself. I have that covered in just about every corner of my apartment.”
Mitch raised a brow.
Claire returned a challenging stare. “Open the drawer to your right.”
With a confused frown, he grabbed the shiny silver rod of her junk drawer and pulled. Inside was a flashlight, container of safety pins, super glue, and a small vibrator.
He slammed the door shut and stared at her hard. “What the hell is that doing in there?”
Claire took another sip with a smile. There was something quite satisfying about seeing him rattled. Even if it was only a smidge. “I’m surprised you don’t find it...oh, I don’t know...decadent.”
He guffawed. “It’s decadent alright, but in the kitchen?”
She shrugged. “You never know when inspiration will hit. Buzz, buzz.”
Truth be told, that particular one was mostly used for a trigger point that always acted up in her left trap muscle when she stood too long while baking. But he didn’t need to know that.
And hell. She lived alone. If she wanted to hop up and christen her new granite counter tops, she’d damn well do it. He was the one always telling her to make memorable moments.
Well, she couldn’t imagine anything quite as memorable as an orgasm in the middle of the day, surrounded by bundt cakes.
Except maybe if it was with him.
Wait. What?
She tossed back the rest of her wine. No, no, no.
Blayne raised her glass. “You rock.”
Claire refused to look back at Mitch for fear of imagining him without his shirt on again and slipped on her heels. “Okay. I’ve got to go. I’m meeting him at six.”
Mitch cleared his throat and placed his big hands on her shoulders. “It’s a Wednesday. No pressure. No one wants to stay out too late on a work night. Drinks and a few appetizers, maybe. Just chat as you did with me the other night and this morning. You’ll be great.”
But that was the problem. She could chat with Mitch. He was safe. He was...a friend.
She studied his face.
The revelation took her off guard. She didn’t know when it had happened. But as unlikely as she’d ever have thought it, he’d become a friend. She trusted him, even enjoyed his company when he wasn’t being an ass. And totally enjoyed the sight of his ass.
Her lips curved up.
“Good. I’m glad to see you excited.”
He couldn’t read people worth a shit though.
Larkin, Blayne, and Mitch surrounded her by the door. “You never did say why you were here,” she said.
Larkin smiled. “For you, of course.”
“Mitch called us. He knew you’d feel stronger with the support.” She made an I-was-as-surprised-as-you face. “Who’d have thunk it? He might actually be pretty smart.”
Mitch rubbed the space between his brow with a tight-lipped growl.
Claire’s heart shuddered again. He called them for her? Her heart turned over. Twice.
Stepping up to him, she kissed his cheek, the feel of his scruff against her lips sending a shiver of awareness through her chest. “Thank you.”
“You got this,” Mitch said in a strained voice as she stepped out the door of her apartment. She looked back to see her two best girlfriends grinning at her with misplaced pride, and Mitch looking at her conflicted, as if being forced to share his favorite toy, and he wanted to fight someone.
But she didn’t have shit.
The only reason he thought she could handle this was because she talked to him so easily.
And that was the biggest problem of all.
Chapter 8
Mitch stepped through the sliding doors of the Cape house kitchen onto the covered back porch, then slammed them closed. The cold sea breeze hit with a shock against his bare skin, but he needed the distraction.
He’d tried to go to bed but couldn’t fall asleep, so he’d thrown on a pair of athletic pants and paced the foyer.
Then he’d gone downtown like a crazy bastard to crash the date.
Twice.
Stopping himself just short of anyone seeing him.
Motherfucking hell.
Forcing himself to go back to the Cape, he’d rummaged around to see if he could scout out any hidden reserves of Maxine’s moonshine.
Score.
It was well past nine, and Claire should be safely home in her apartment, and maybe even in bed by now.
He hadn’t heard from her yet, and the waiting was torture.
Maybe she’d taken the guy home after all.
The image of her showing her date how that damn vibrator worked sparked a pain so irrational that he didn’t even know himself anymore.
So he shoved that from his head with all the self-control he possessed.
Sipping from the blue canning jar, he released a grumpy sigh.
He pictured her naked, but alone, God damn it, and surrounded by baked goods. The idea tightened his body to a painful level. He scrubbed at the scruff on his face to keep from rubbing one out right there on the porch.
Fuck.
He couldn’t even imagine if Maxine caught him. She’d either have his nuts for it or cheer him on in her healthy, sex-forward way of thinking.
That would be worse.
/> And then that damned vibrator and a naked Claire covered in powdered sugar popped in his head.
“Jesus Christ. I’m fucking turned on by baked goods now.”
A low voice caught his attention from the direction of the well, and he squinted through the darkness to get a better look. Something about a penny and a wish. The silhouette of a person could just barely be seen in the darkness.
“Hey! Who’s there?” His bellow echoed back from the trees, louder than he’d expected. But he had a lot of energy to take care of. A damn trespasser would do the trick.
The figure froze. “Crap.” The voice was barely audible, but he’d recognize it anywhere, and his body sprung away like he’d downed one of Shelly Anne’s espressos.
“Claire?”
She approached from the well, her bare feet silent in the grass, and her heels hanging from her fingers.
“You have to be freezing. What the hell are you doing out there?”
Throwing him an accusing glare, she asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”
As she reached the steps, he grabbed her arm and propelled her into the kitchen. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her up against his chest. She was chilled to the bone, her small frame shivering as he pulled the door closed behind them. “I’m living here as the caretaker while I figure out where I want to land. Sold my apartment. Looking at houses.”
The city attorney needed a home, a symbol of attachment and commitment. His bachelor pad wasn’t doing the job. He’d approached Larkin and Ryker about the caretaker position until they had enough time to really comb out the right candidate to take his place.
She was rubbing her cheek back and forth against his chest, her eyes closed, a half smile on her face. Confusion settled on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
Her smile fell, and she froze. She blinked a few times, then tilted her head back. “You can let me go now.” Her fingers patted his chest in an awkward flutter.
The problem was, he didn’t want to let her go. She fit against him so perfectly that he felt weightless. “Not yet. You’re shivering.” He’d tell the lie again if he could hold her for a second longer. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a soft tone.
“I couldn’t go through with it.” She mumbled against his chest, sounding dejected and sending a wash of goosebumps over his skin.
A huge flood of relief almost knocked him on his ass.
For his own sanity, he walked her to the bench under the window next to the sliding glass doors. Lifting the seat, he grabbed one of the many blankets Maxine had stored there. That woman had a keen sense of what would be needed and when, from blankets in unusual storing places to wet wipes or batteries. An assortment of supplies could be found in every room.
Running around the house with Ryker as a kid was like being a pirate on a treasure hunt. He couldn’t count the times she’d threatened them if they kept stealing her stuff, but a hidden flashlight to a ten-year-old was way too cool to pass up.
Pushing his moonshine into her fingers, he said. “Drink some of this. It’ll warm you.” As she did what she was told, he wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, then noticed her bare toes.
“For fuck’s sake, Claire.” With his hand at the small of her back, he propelled her forward. “Come on. I lit a fire. Let’s get you warmed up before you drive home.”
“I walked.”
He almost missed a step as he led her toward the master bedroom.
“You walked. Are you fucking crazy?” His eyes skimmed past the wainscotting that followed up the stairs, now white instead of the black it used to be. “Town isn’t far, but you were in those damn heals and it’s dark, and the driveway is long.”
She looked down at her toes. “I took off my shoes.”
Shaking his head, he guided her through the bedroom door to one of the plush, high-backed tufted chairs in front of the fireplace he’d lit earlier.
The master bedroom had changed from Maxine’s signature eggplant to different shades of gold. It still wasn’t his taste but was sure as hell better than the prissy style it used to be.
Claire would probably love it but still resisted from entering.
“Take it easy,” he said on a low chuckle, the rumble filling his chest and the room. “We’re only in here because the fireplace was already lit to take off the chill. It is ten o'clock at night, you know.”
She relaxed immediately and sunk into the chair where Puzzle rested. The cat jumped down with a sinister stare, then, nose in the air, weaved around her ankles.
On a sigh, she stretched her toes toward the fire. “I’ve always wanted a fireplace in my bedroom. I imagine it’s what you’d call decadent.”
She knew him too well at this point. Squatting down at her feet, he lifted one into his hand. She tried to tug it away, but he stopped her. “Listen, you just walked from town—barefoot—in thirty-degree weather. Can you stop being stubborn for one damn minute and just let me help you?”
Finally acquiescing, she relaxed back into the chair with a dreamy look on her face as he began to knead the small muscles between the bones of her dainty feet. “Surprised these things can even keep you upright.” His voice was gruff, and he swallowed to clear it.
She wiggled her toes. “These things served me quite well, thank you very much.”
He nodded as he thought of all the ways he wanted to serve her. “Are you going to tell me what happened? Why are you here, Claire?”
She drew in a deep, troubled breath, then let it out in a long exhale. “Started out fine. We ordered drinks, casual conversation, but then his fingers were on my wrist, and his knee was pressing against mine. He started asking me about what I wanted in a relationship. I don't know, I just panicked. Dating is such a big commitment. There are other people to consider. In their lives, in my own. What if we really enjoy each other's company, what if we started spending a lot of time together?”
She shifted in her seat but left her foot in his hand. He changed the motion of his fingers to firm, slow circles. A slight shiver shook her frame, and she closed her eyes.
“So what if all of that happens? Doesn't sound like a negative thing to me.” Even though he had to force himself not to squeeze her foot too hard, as if holding on tighter would keep her closer.
This time she did pull her foot away. “Says the man who’s never had a relationship longer than foreplay and orgasm.”
“Fair enough.” He dipped his chin. “But has it ever occurred to you that I have my reasons? It amazes me that no one has ever thought to ask. I know, I know you have your reasons, too. But you yourself said that you wanted to get out there. So, what the hell is stopping you?”
“What if I fall in love?”
Her quiet whisper hit him square in the chest. The idea of her falling in love with another man filled him with an unreasonable amount of jealousy and a pain in his chest he could only imagine felt like a damn heart attack. He forced his question out. “Isn't that what you want?”
She moved her head back and forth. “No, I want companionship, I want a man's hands on me, to feel the weight of him, but I don't want to fall in love. That only opens you up for unimaginable pain.”
“You don't really believe that. You can't turn away from love in your life because you're afraid.”
His inner voice called him every other name for a hypocrite in the book. But it was different for him. He was afraid of ever hurting anyone like his mother had been hurt, not necessarily afraid of being hurt himself. Though if any of the inconvenient sensations he’d been experiencing since taking on this project with Claire were any indication, getting hurt would be a fine thing to avoid as well.
“I am completely serious,” she said her voice stronger now. Pulling her feet up, she tucked them under her butt and leaned against one corner of the chair.
She wasn't a tiny woman, not compared to the average ladies he saw around town. She was tall and fit with a petite frame but not so small that she should look as f
ragile as she did at that moment. “So how did you end the night?” he asked, careful to keep his voice light.
A slight blush covered her cheeks, and she grimaced. “He went to use the restroom, and I was gone before he came back.”
“You did not,” Mitch said with a chuckle. “I am never gonna hear the end of this.” In the end, he didn't care. Suddenly, his buddy no longer seemed like a good fit for her. She deserved someone extraordinary. And though Cape Van Buren had better than most, extraordinary was not easy to come by.
“Not only that, but you know how long it's been since a man has held me? Since I've kissed anyone? I was this close...” She put her pointer finger and thumb almost touching.
“And don't laugh or make any jokes. I've heard them all from you already.”
That statement left him feeling more than a little ashamed, but that was one of the reasons he was helping her. This was a good opportunity to try to make it up to her. And in return, it could enable him to turn a new leaf toward being a citizen who was upstanding and respected, known for caring about the people of this town. Clearly, from her statement, he still had a long way to go.
“I'm not making any jokes. Not tonight.”
She glanced up at him warily.
“The only thing I can tell you, is the longer you resist, the harder it will be. It's just a matter of letting yourself be open to a bit of pleasure from someone you are attracted to, someone you trust.
“Are you going volunteer?” she asked with a little smirk.
A surge of red-hot lust coursed through him with such force he almost lost his balance, but he shook his head, forcing out the lie. “No, of course not.”
She tilted her head to the side, studying his features, then let her eyes wander down his bare torso. He was still kneeling at her feet and suddenly feeling more exposed than he could ever remember.
“Actually...” She scooted to the edge of her seat. “Would you? I do trust you, and I don't find you unattractive.”
His bark of laughter echoed around the room. He could hear the bewilderment and a touch of embarrassment in the sound of it and took a hard swallow. “Me? Is this a joke? All we've done is argue since we met.”
