He used his key to go through the side door into the kitchen and called her name a few times. No answer. In the bathroom? In the shower? Out on a walk? He grabbed his suitcases from the car and hoisted them up the beautiful dark wood staircase to the second floor and into the room where he’d spent the previous night.
Alana’s bag was still there. Which meant she still claimed the room Melanie said he could have because his large frame was more comfortable in a queen-size bed than one of the twins in the guest room.
More conflict. He’d do the gentlemanly thing and offer to sleep in the guest room, but it made more sense for him not to have to change rooms after she left.
He supposed if he tossed her things across the hall now, she’d pitch a fit that would deafen him.
“Oh. Um. Hi. Sawyer.”
Alana. He spun around, prepared for battle…and found himself reacting to her not as the shrieking shrew, but the way he’d reacted to her asleep in his bed. Her eyes were wide, anxious but not hostile. She looked slightly unsure of herself. Her rich, dark brown hair was damp—yes, she’d been in the shower—and curled gently around her face; he remembered its fragrance. She wore jeans and a clingy peach-colored sweater that reminded him forcefully of what lay underneath.
What was the point of that thought? She wasn’t merely not his type, she was his antitype.
“I, uh…” She looked down at his suitcases. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about living here.”
“Hoped I’d changed my mind?”
“Oh.” She laughed shortly. “No, of course not.”
“Liar.” He winked, thinking maybe he could charm her into not being a pain in his…move-in.
No acknowledgment of his humor. “I guess we got off to a…weird start.”
“I guess we did. Not all bad, though.” This time he managed a we-had-some-serious-fun smile.
Nothing.
She gestured to his suitcases. “You’re still planning to live with Melanie.”
Hadn’t they just settled that? He’d try humor one more time, then he was going to get annoyed. “Oh, no. Those hold my drug, alcohol and condom supply. I’m never without them.”
No response. He sighed. “Yes, I’m still moving in. I need this place.”
“So…” She sent him a direct, challenging stare. She’d make a great middle-school teacher. Or cop. Or judge, jury and executioner. “What happened at your old place? Why can’t you live there anymore?”
He folded his arms across his chest. Nobody expects The Alanish Inquisition. “It got too crowded.”
“Lots of roommates?” He saw the suspicion and disapproval in her eyes. This guy can’t even afford one eighth of an apartment. What a piece of work. She was probably picturing drugs, orgies and animal sacrifices. What in their identical upbringing could cause Melanie to trust too much and Alana not enough? He was more curious than he should be.
“No, it was the kids.” The boy in him who’d found ways to torment his brothers during the years he lacked their strength decided to see how far he could push before she was on to him. “Once you hit four, it gets pretty noisy.”
Her eyes shot open. “You left your children? Four of them?”
“Oh, they’re not mine. I’m living with my brother’s wife. I’m pretty sure the kids are his. Most of them anyway.”
She sputtered. “You…he…she…”
“So when I met Melanie and she had this place available, I jumped at the chance to ditch them all. I needed the quiet.”
“I see.” Her outrage was at full pitch. How could she swallow all this obvious bull, but refuse to acknowledge any truths he told her early this morning? “What…do you do?”
Sawyer shrugged. “Not much of anything these days. Just kind of casting my net around, enjoying a break.”
“Well. That must be…freeing.”
“Yeah, you know, sleeping late, doing whatever I want all day.”
“But you’re able to help my sister with the expenses of living here?” Tight lips, rigid body, frosty, frosty disapproval.
Sawyer would shiver, but he’d heated into truly brilliant creativity. “I can always hit up some of the rich, married women I service if I need cash.”
“You—”
“Alana.” He took a step toward her, hand held up. Enough.
“What?” She spoke through her teeth.
“This is ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m kidding about the married women. And my brother Mark was transferred to Germany; he’s there finding his family a house. Maria and the boys needed a place to stay because their place in Menomonee Falls sold sooner than they expected, so I said they could stay with me.”
“For God’s sake.” She lifted her chin. “You made it sound like—”
“You’d already decided I’m bad news. I was curious how bad. Apparently impressively bad.”
“Melanie said to give you another chance. I was trying.”
“By assuming I’m a jerk?”
“You acted like one.”
“Okay.” He took another step toward her. He wanted to see her eyes, watch her face change. And, yes, he was a man, to enjoy the rest of her up closer. He never got to hold her gorgeous body against him the way he planned when he woke to her a second time. “So can we start over? Without preconceptions?”
“Well. I guess.” Her color rose; she took a step back. “If you’ll stop lying.”
Grrrrr.
“I’ll do my best.” He held out his hand. “I’m Sawyer Kern, Melanie’s roommate.”
Her grip was reluctant. “Alana Hawthorne, Melanie’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you.” Their hands lingered, then separated. He had no idea what to say to her now. They’d been together an entire night, argued like an old married couple; it seemed wrong to pretend they were just-met strangers. “Uh, so this is your room?”
“Since I was ten.”
He looked around. Decorated with the sweet femininity of a butch drill sergeant.
“Melanie took out my personal stuff. I guess to get it ready for you.”
Oops. Apparently he’d jumped to judge her, too. “How long are you staying?”
She smiled with all the warmth of a nurse proffering a bedpan. “Until I’m sure you’re not taking advantage of my sister.”
He wanted to laugh. He’d moved in to protect her sister. “I’m not interested in doing that. Just in escaping four boys and a dog’s worth of chaos. When they leave, I go back home, Melanie’s fortune, house and honor intact.”
“I know I seem overprotective, but her track record with men is…” She pressed her lips together. “Anyway, I just wanted to meet you before I move to Florida.”
At least she was loyal to her sister. That was one good quality he could focus on, to keep himself from strangling her…or something else, which he wished he could stop wanting to do. “I’ll sleep in the guest room while you’re here.”
“Oh, well that’s very nice of—”
“Unless—” he gestured to the bed “—you’d like to share again?”
Her hands went back to her hips. Her brows dropped as if they had weights.
“No?” He gave her his best charmer grin. Did she have no sense of humor? “Out of luck for a repeat, huh?”
“Completely.” She held herself as if she’d had her vertebrae fused. The challenge was irresistible.
“So…no chance even for a quickie right now?”
Her eyes darkened. Her fists were going to crack her hip bones if she wasn’t careful. “If you keep harassing me like this, I’m going to—”
“Tell on me?” He took another prowling step toward her. He was being a complete jerk, but she thought he was one anyway, and he was tired of trying to be nice. Something about her made him edgy and angry and excited and horny all at once. Didn’t he say he usually went for calm women? He should go downstairs right now, move the rest of his stuff up into the guest room and act like a saint so s
he’d trust him with her sister and leave.
And he’d never get to touch her again.
Another step. She glanced to one side, glanced back. Glanced to the other. Glanced back. Her lips parted.
Where was the outrage now? Swamped by hormones? Was he affecting her the same way she was affecting him?
Or did she just get off on guys who were jerks?
Sheesh. If he wasn’t getting more and more turned on by her, he’d be feeling contempt. He’d be thinking women like her were why nice, non-caveman guys couldn’t get a break.
Unfortunately, now that he was one step away from her, his inner caveman was acting up. He could see the sexy indentation at the base of her throat, her collarbones peeking from her scoop neckline, the shadow of cleavage—and no, he wasn’t just looking down her shirt because he had also noticed her eyes were wide and anxious again.
Worse, her proximity brought back details of his predawn sexual raid in startling clarity. The way she’d arched and moaned, the way her hips undulated with his rhythm, the way—
“What are you doing?” Her voice came out a cracking whisper. She didn’t step back or move away; her eyes held his. Where was Ms. Dragon Lady now? “I’m…” What was he doing? “…going to kiss you.”
His words snapped her out of whatever human form she’d taken. “What?”
He winced. Did she have to make so much noise? “Did you not hear?”
“I heard fine. Now, you listen to me.” She had the gall to thrust a finger at him, as if he were nine and she was his den leader. “You’re here living with my sister, and you are absolutely not allowed to take any advantage of—Mmph.”
Kissing her was the most polite way he could think of to shut her up. Certainly the most appealing.
Her lips were warm and clung to his, and what was supposed to be a single me-man, you-woman kiss turned longer. His hands moved, one over soft hair to rest behind her head, one over soft fabric to press her curving body against him.
He’d just learned something. Calm women, the kinds he liked, the kinds he’d always dated, were calm when they kissed, too. Not this set-me-on-fire passion. He broke the kiss for a second, then went right back in, not able to get enough.
Surprisingly strong arms shoved him back. Startled, he let go and immediately regretted it.
“You—you—you…” Outrage again. But she hadn’t moved a step away from him. Not even half a step. Ms. Dragon Lady talked a good chaste game, but wanted to be ravished. He wanted to roll his eyes. His type of woman was straightforward, honest, no games. “That is absolutely beyond anything I’ve ever—Mmph.”
He’d learned something else. It was easier to keep kissing her than stand there and be lectured. Given that her shrieking seemed always at the ready, he might have to do a lot of kissing this morning.
Except the more he kissed her, the more he wanted to do a lot more than kiss her, and the more it annoyed him on behalf of nice guys the world over that she responded to him when he behaved like a caveman and shrieked at him when he was polite.
This time the arms were even more surprisingly strong, and once she’d pried him off her, she actually took a step back, then another, then folded those strong arms across her heaving chest, face flushed. She finally meant business.
“Stop. Just stop.”
“About time.” The muttered words came out louder than he intended. Her eyes widened and for a second she looked hurt and he felt like a toad even if she did deserve it. But the moment of vulnerability clicked off in a second and her mouth opened for more screaming. He hurried to cut her off—with words this time. “I meant that you seem to enjoy being…coerced.”
That didn’t help, either. Around women like her he needed to learn not to say whatever was in his head.
“I’m just going to tell you one thing. You are not staying in this house and I’m going to do everything in my power to bring Melanie to Florida with me, out of your depraved company.”
Depraved company? Did she stay home and read Gothic novels all day? Now he was frustrated, horny and completely disgusted. “That was two things.”
“What?”
“You said you were going to tell me one. You told me two.”
“How can you possibly pick on that after—”
“Because you refuse to listen or—”
“—you kiss me, when—”
“—let me finish my sentences.”
“—you and Melanie are dating seriously.”
He frowned. Had he heard that correctly? “What?”
“See?” She tossed her thick below-shoulder hair scornfully. “It doesn’t even occur to you that it’s a bad idea to come on to your girlfriend’s sister?”
“Huh?” She had him at a complete loss. Again. Women were the most mysterious beings on the planet. “Melanie and me?”
“She’s had enough pain in her life being betrayed and tossed around by men. Give her a break. Just pack up and leave before you hurt her.”
Okay. A small lightbulb, just a small one. “Your sister and I are not—”
“Come on, Sawyer.”
“No, listen to me, Alana.” He went to grab her arm and she sidestepped him. “Just stand there and listen. We are not dating, not seriously, not casually, not at all, nothing. We’ve never…ever. Not even half—not even a sixteenth of what you and I did.”
Her blush came back. “Why should I believe you?”
“Uh…” He pretended to think it over. “Because I’m telling the truth?”
“Melanie said you were the guy for her. The One.”
“The who?” Was there something that happened to women in childhood that turned them into total aliens? Would plasma slime work on them? He needed to consult with his nephews.
“So excuse me if I don’t trust you. At all. You seem like a pretty typical Melanie choice.”
He thought of Fast Freddie. “I take it that’s not a compliment.”
She shook her head, but sadly. Whatever else, she did love her sister.
“Think about it, Alana. If Melanie and I are dating seriously, why aren’t we sleeping together?”
“I don’t know. You snore?” She wrinkled her nose at his skeptical look. “Okay, maybe not that. But—”
“Alana.” He held up his hands and, by some miracle, she fell silent. “I swear to you. Your sister and I are not dating. I don’t know why she told you that. Here’s another tidbit for your truth file. Melanie planned to ask someone else who works at Habitat for Humanity to move in with her. A dubiously rehabbed meth addict known as Fast Freddie, who makes ‘speedy delivery’ jokes and has a facial tic and questionable hygiene. I thought I’d make a better roommate, so I stepped in.”
She closed her eyes. “Oh, God.”
“What?”
“That sounds like something Mel would do.”
Wow. She actually believed him. A miracle. “So are we straight here?”
She frowned, but did seem derailed from her total condemnation of Sawyer—and why did he care? “I’ll have to talk to Melanie.”
“That’s fine.”
“And it doesn’t change the fact that you…did what you did to me last night when I was asleep.”
He shook his head. Why bother even trying? “Yeah, that was because of my unfortunate drug habit. You’ll be glad to know you could have been a rock and I still would have gone for you. Probably would have woken up all bent out of shape, though.”
“Oh!” Her face grew pink with fury, then what he said must have hit her, and she burst out in an actual giggle.
He grinned and her face grew pinker. “However, today, an unusual day, I have not yet injected, ingested or inhaled any foreign or illegal mind-altering substances, and I have to say I prefer you to any rock I’ve ever met.”
She snorted again, but something shifted between them.
“Truce?” He held out his hand.
“Well…” She took it and gave him a firm shake. “For Melanie’s sake.”
“
Good.”
“But stay away from me.”
He smiled into her eyes and watched her pupils darken and dilate. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet, and she hadn’t pulled hers away.
He had the distinct impression that she wanted him to stay away from her exactly as much as he did.
5
ALANA POURED Comet onto a green scouring pad and went at the white porcelain sink as if she were training for the Olympic scrubbing team. Her life had been peaceful and calm for a long time. Moving to Chicago had been a huge upheaval, but the subsequent six years, once she settled in, had been rewarding and enriching. She’d met Sam when his sink backed up and she surprised him by being the one who showed up to fix it. Their friendship had proceeded slowly and naturally into romance. She’d made other friends in the building, at her gym and book group, and enjoyed an active social life. Chicago had provided plenty of culture. Life had been good.
Even her breakup with Sam, though difficult for him and guilt-laden for her, hadn’t put her through too much devastation, which validated her decision not to marry him. Mostly a matter of breaking habits and coping with sadness and regret. Though if Alana had still been involved with him, she might not have found it as practical to plan a new life in Florida.
She rinsed the sink, stared critically and shook in more Comet. Now her life was in transition again, so it was not too surprising that she was a little—okay, maybe a lot—stressed. The nagging restlessness in her relationship that came to a head when Sam proposed, and the same in her job during this past year after they broke up had been unsettling. Gran’s fall had been even more unsettling, especially having to guess at the details—Gran claimed minor injuries to one leg, but she’d say that if she shattered every bone—then all the exhausting planning and packing for the move, then Melanie’s meltdown and now…
She scrubbed harder.
Sawyer.
He was the most infuriating, funny, charming, infuriating, sex-y, sex-ual, sex-ist infuriating man she’d ever met.
Did she mention infuriating?
More Comet, more scrubbing. There were gray streaks on the bottom of the sink where pans had rubbed, and stains, probably coffee or tea, maybe something tomato-ey. All of them were doomed.
While She Was Sleeping... Page 5
