Amelia sat down on the couch and took a sip of the hot liquid. Alec had put marshmallows in the chocolate, and they tasted gooey and delicious, warming her insides.
“Mmm.”
Alec reached over and gently brushed her top lip. Her entire body tingled, and she pulled back.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I saw you had a milk moustache. Hazards of being a caregiver.”
There were worse things he could be, Amelia thought, settling down. She couldn’t stop thinking about his fingers on her lips and wondered how they’d feel on other parts of her body. It was crazy. She’d only known Alec for a few short hours, and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him. His presence had some kind of magnetic effect on her. Just looking at him generated a positive electric charge, like their ions were colliding.
“It’s all right. It’s nice. Thank you.” What other things would she learn about this man? And what difference did it make, since Confrontation would soon be in her rearview mirror?
“Thanks for dinner tonight,” Amelia said gratefully.
“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Amelia smiled. “Honestly, it was much better than I expected.”
“What were you expecting? Hog jowls and squirrel?”
Amelia laughed. Actually, that was exactly what she had expected. What she got was one of the best gourmet dinners she’d ever tasted. The menu was varied, some game items, fresh mountain trout, pastas, delicious vegetables. And some rather pleasant company. They’d talked about their college experiences, growing up in a small town versus a large city, travel, everything and nothing. She liked listening to his voice. She felt comfortable in his presence. He had impeccable manners. He was polite to the wait staff. Unlike What’s-His-Name, who refused to thank a server who refilled their water glasses because it was “his job.” What’s-His-Name looked at life as a hierarchy, with him on the top rung. The truth was he was just plain rude and obnoxious.
When the check came, Alec had paid it, graciously and with a generous tip. But not because the server was beautiful and big-busted (which she was). What was it about servers? Alec didn’t seem to notice the way the server looked or the way she was built. He was focused like a laser on his dinner date the entire time. Unlike What’s-His-Name. She imagined Alec didn’t have a cheating bone in his entire body. And he seemed more sensitive, more in touch with his feelings than What’s-His-Name had ever been. That was a good thing, in her opinion.
“One of the losing contestants on Top Chef opened the restaurant. I’d stack it up against any I’ve tried in New York.”
“I’ve never actually been to New York,” Amelia admitted.
“Who’s the hick now?” Alec challenged.
Okay, she deserved that. “How long did you live in New York?”
“For about three years after law school, when I was working for that big firm I told you about. I was on partner track. That city has a lot to offer, but honestly I was never so glad to get back home. The pace is too hectic up there. I had forgotten how comforting quiet can be. Confrontation is more my speed.”
Amelia bit back a comment. Alec was obviously prejudiced against so-called “Florida people.” He considered them snobs. Maybe he was right. She had been just as narrow-minded about what she considered “hicks” from North Carolina. The conversation at dinner had been stimulating. He had been a pleasant dinner companion. Her initial impression of Alec Brady was inaccurate. He was anything but a hick. Her attraction to him had grown exponentially over the course of the evening.
“So, what’s on tap for tomorrow?” she asked expectantly, realizing that she was looking forward to spending more time with the country lawyer.
“Well, I thought we could drive around your two tracts of land. I could introduce you to some of your neighbors. Maybe if they meet you in person they’ll change their mind about granting you an easement or buying your property.”
“What are the chances of that happening?”
“Doubtful.”
“Maybe you could talk to some of them. Since you’re all related.”
“That’s not likely. There’s a lot of bad blood in Confrontation, even among family.”
“Like the Hatfields and the McCoys?”
“Worse. The Bradys hold serious grudges.”
“About what?”
“Well, my Uncle Bundy Brady is wanted in three states for murder. He’s a serial killer, he’s on the loose, and I don’t think it’s safe for strangers to be anywhere around here. I think you’d better leave as soon as possible.”
“You’re not going to scare me away with your tall tales, Mr. Brady.”
“Take your chances, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Just keep your bedroom door locked.”
“Why? Do you wander around at night?”
Alec took a good long look at her.
“I just might be tempted, if I see something I like.” He licked some hot chocolate from his lips, and she shuddered in response like a Pavlovian dog. Game on, Billy Bob.
Suddenly, her fancy negligee seemed flimsy and she pulled her robe tighter around her practically naked body and her visibly hardening nipples. She felt exposed. Jethro was getting too close for comfort. And talk about tempting. All thoughts of proper behavior went up in smoke through the fireplace whenever she looked into his dreamy blue eyes. She finished her hot chocolate, trying not to think about Alec’s tongue tangling with hers, and placed the cup gingerly on the tray.
“Thank you. I’m going to go to bed now. See you in the morning.” She half hoped he’d stop her, but he didn’t.
“Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “You have bedbugs?”
“Just something Ma used to say before she put me to sleep.”
A flash of lightning crackled electrifyingly outside the picture window. Instinctively she jumped up into Alec’s arms.
He caught her and held her as if she were weightless. “Hey, it’s only heat lightning. That just means it’s lightning that’s too far away to be heard.”
“But the storm may be moving in our direction.” She tightened her arms around Alec’s neck. “I’d better check my weather radar app.”
“You don’t need a weather app to tell a storm’s coming. Just look up at the sky, see the way the wind is blowing through the trees. You can smell a storm coming. You’re not scared of a little lightning, are you?”
He had no idea. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out about all her phobias. “Do you know how many people get struck by lightning every year?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“You have approximately a one in 1,749,851 chance of getting killed by lightning in North Carolina every year,” Amelia stated. “And Americans are twice as likely to die a lightning-related death as from a tornado, hurricane, or flood.”
“That’s obscure.”
“I looked it up before I came here. You’d be surprised. At least it’s nighttime. Seventy percent of all lightning injuries and fatalities occur in the afternoon. You’ve got a lot of tall trees around here. The average lightning strike is six miles long.”
Amelia ventured a nervous look out the window just after a particularly loud crack of thunder. Lightning illuminated the sky, and she stared into the face of a crusty-looking, bearded mountain man. She screamed and pointed at the picture window, nearly causing Alec to drop her.
“There’s a scary-looking man in the window.”
“Did he have a beard? And red hair?”
Amelia nodded her head frantically.
“Uncle Bundy. He’s always popping up. He knows he’s safe around here.”
“You’re harboring a serial killer?”
“He’s my uncle. He claims he’s innocent. And they haven’t found any bodies yet.”
“Well, now, that makes me feel a whole lot better. I will be locking my bedroom door tonight. You act like seeing a serial killer is just your everyday occurrence,
and that being a serial killer is a run-of-the-mill occupation.”
Alec shrugged as he carried Amelia into her bedroom and deposited her on the bed.
Thunder reverberated around the room. It was getting louder. The storm was growing in intensity.
Amelia jumped up again and landed back in Alec’s arms.
“Okay, that was not heat lightning.”
Alec smiled and snuggled her closer. “I know I’m irresistible, sugar, but it’s just a little storm. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Amelia said. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Our summer storms are spectacular. I like a good storm. It’s comforting. Helps me sleep.” He looked at her with hooded eyes. Crinkling his nose, he rubbed it against hers, bringing his lips dangerously close to hers. Her body responded.
What was he, an Eskimo? What was this “sugar” talk? Was it just a mountain term of endearment? Did he refer to every girl he met as “sugar”? And how many girls had there been? Was it a long line? And why didn’t he just kiss her already? Before she exploded or dispensed with ceremony and attacked him.
“Storms are anything but comforting,” Amelia said. “What if one of those giant trees crashes through the picture window?”
“What if a meteor lands outside the front door?”
“It could happen.”
“You ever see anybody about your problem?”
“What problem?”
“Your fear of storms.”
Amelia’s cheeks reddened. “It’s just a healthy respect for Mother Nature. Completely normal.”
“No, I think it goes way beyond that. You’re afraid of rain, storms, and lightning. Unnaturally afraid, to the point of obsession.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Amelia objected. Was she that obvious?
“You haven’t taken your nose out of that weather radar app since you got here.”
Alec sat down on the bed, cradling her in his arms, steadying her hands. “Miss Rushing, calm down, please, and look at me. It’s going to be okay. I promise. And if you get scared in the middle of the night, you can always crawl into bed with me. My door’s always open.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped. “Is that an invitation?”
“Do you want it to be?”
“Don’t say anything you don’t mean,” she said, raising her chin, wishing with all her might that he’d kiss her and get it over with. The tension was killing her.
“I never do. I just want you to know that I’ll keep you safe.”
Amelia blew out a breath. She almost believed him. He certainly was strong. Strong enough to protect her. But who would protect her from him? Sitting this close on his lap, she could feel his erection. She was certain about one thing. Nothing about this house or this town or this night or this man was okay.
****
Alec paced the living room. He was never going to be able to get any sleep now. What he needed was a cold shower. Amelia had felt so vulnerable in his arms. She was a stubborn woman, but underneath that crocodile demeanor was a warm and passionate woman. He’d stake his career on it—such as it was. Holding her close on his lap, he’d ached for her, and he thought he’d detected the same raw need in her eyes. He’d wanted to kiss her, more than anything, to taste those luscious lips of hers.
But he didn’t want to scare her off by moving too quickly. She had awakened something in him that had lain dormant since he’d come back to Confrontation. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman. And it felt good. She felt good. Her nightgown didn’t leave much to the imagination. She was feisty but at the same time fragile. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. He wanted to get to know her better. But she couldn’t have made it plainer that she was in a hurry to leave. And that she thought he was a hick, or worse. She hadn’t given Confrontation a chance. If she had, she might find a reason to stay. Maybe he’d give her a reason to stay. With all the thoughts swirling around in his head, it was going to be a long night.
Chapter Five
Amelia had the best sleep she’d had in years. Must be the sweet mountain air. And the sweet dreams she was having about Alec Brady. She was more of an ocean girl, but the sounds and the scents in the mountains were intoxicating. The storm had moved out, replaced by the friendly sounds of crickets, hoot owls, and tree frogs. She thought she’d locked her bedroom door, but while she was asleep Alec must have come in and opened the windows. Cool air that smelled like pine-scented bath crystals filled the room, swamping her senses. She snuggled under one of the comforters. She was beginning to understand why her grandparents had bought the place and why they used to love visiting. But then why had they stopped coming here so abruptly thirty years ago? It didn’t make any sense.
Stretching lazily, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, padded toward the bathroom, and screamed.
A girl with frizzy red hair and wearing a skimpy bikini walked out of the bedroom next door, followed by a giant wolf.
“We ain’t interested in giving you a right away.” The girl fixed her with a frigid stare.
“Who are you?”
“Marie Antoinette Brady. Alec’s cousin. Heard there was a Florida person snooping around our property.”
“Actually, it’s my property, but it’s for sale.”
“You can’t sell this property. This is my home.”
Amelia blew out a breath.
“You live here too?”
“Sometimes.”
“Who else lives here?”
“Cousin Alec is a soft touch. He takes in strays.”
Amelia stared at the wolf. “Does he bite?”
“Only if he’s hungry.” Marie Antoinette blew her straight face and started laughing.
“I’m beginning to get the picture. Any girls ever stay over?”
Marie Antoinette laughed. “Why. You jealous?”
“No, of course not. I hardly know the man.”
“Are you Alec’s new girlfriend?”
“No, I’m his client, and this is actually my house, or rather, my grandmother’s house.”
“You’re one of them Florida people. I knew it. I knew it the moment I seen you.”
“I live in Florida, but I don’t know why you would call me that.”
“We don’t like them Florida people. They’s uppity.”
Alec strolled into the bathroom, and Marie Antoinette spun around.
“Jesus, Lord have mercy, you scared me to death.”
“Why don’t you call on someone you know,” Alec teased.
“The plumbing’s broke at my house. I’m going to take a shower.”
“In your bathing suit? How did you get in?”
“I came in through Aunt Necey’s window.”
“You could have used the front door. You should have called first. I have company.”
“I ken see that. Phone’s busted because of the storm.”
Alec scratched his head. “And you shouldn’t be walking around in a storm anyway.”
“I was scared.”
Amelia stepped back and mutely pointed to the animal before she could speak.
“S-she has a wolf.”
Alec didn’t seemed bothered by the furry intruder.
“You know how that dog sheds. Now I’m going to have dog hairs all over the place.”
“Sorry. Dr. Landrew and I will be out of your way in about an hour. Then you and your girlfriend can have the house all to yourself to do the nasty.”
“Marie Antoinette Brady, watch your mouth, or I’ll wash it out with soap. Miss Rushing is a lady, and she’s not used to talk like that. Remember what I told you about acting civilized around guests.”
Marie Antoinette hung her head.
“Remember, you were named after a beautiful French empress,” Alec said.
“Who got her head chopped off for eating cake,” remarked Marie Antoinette.
Alec sighed. “That’s not exactly how it happened. J
ust mind your manners.”
“I’ll try, Cousin Alec.”
Amelia stared at the wolf. “Who’s Dr. Landrew?”
“She’s my dog. I named her after my gynecologist.”
Amelia blinked. Although Marie Antoinette was well developed and almost every one of her ample assets was on display for Alec and all the world to see, the girl didn’t look old enough to have a gynecologist. But, in these parts, who knew? Amelia mentally kicked herself for stooping to stereotypes again. But she couldn’t help it if her mind ran wild with thoughts of improper behavior. For all she knew, Alec was sleeping with his cousin. She certainly seemed comfortable enough around him, and she was available. In fact, an obvious hero-worship vibe emanated from the little diva.
“Are you sure Dr. Landrew is not a wolf?”
“He may be,” answered Marie Antoinette, her eyes sparkling.
“And she’s not my girlfriend,” Alec insisted.
“That ain’t what Daddy said.”
“You talked to Uncle Bundy?”
“He’s jes passin’ through. Don’t tell no one. You promise?”
Alec sighed. “Don’t worry. What did he have to say for himself? ”
“Daddy said he seen you with a girl last night.”
“Amelia is just staying here for a few days until we get her land situation straightened out.”
“I saw him digging around the graveyard. He says when it rains the ground is nice and soft. Perfect weather for burying bodies.”
“You didn’t see him actually bury a body, did you?”
“I seen the shovel, and he smelt awful, like rot. I asked him to stay and he said he couldn’t. He’s on the run again. He said he was going to stay at your house, so I followed him over here, but he must have gotten spooked when he seen that girl on your lap through the picture window. Since she was in Aunt Necey’s bed, I just slept on the couch.”
Amelia shuddered and imagined how she would have felt waking up next to a half-dressed mountain girl and her wolf.
“Okay, go on and get yourself something to eat and put on some clothes. I’ve got some bacon and eggs frying on the stove.”
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