by Tracy March
“You had two roommates?”
“Sally is Becca’s cat.” She grinned, white teeth gleaming. “I’ve had roommates ever since college.” She tipped her head, looking winsome. “Living by myself will take some getting used to.”
“I’d imagine everything will take some getting used to.”
“Like no air conditioner.” She bunched the front of her blouse in her hand and lifted it away from her body. The wispy fabric danced as she released it and it fell back into place. “What can I do to help get these windows up?”
“Check under the sink. Dean usually keeps candles there for the tenants, in case the power goes out.” He picked up his tool belt and put it on.
She pressed her lips together, eyebrows low. “You lost me.” She reached over and flipped the lights on and off. “We’ve got power. It’s the air conditioner that we’re missing.”
“Cool mountain air’s all you need, even on the hottest days. Just leave the windows open and let it blow through.”
“I can’t leave them open when I’m gone all day.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Holly told me that the crime rate is low here, but still…” She lifted her narrow shoulders. “Someone might break in.”
“Not in Thistle Bend. Most people don’t even lock their doors.” He walked into the kitchen just to get closer to her. “Everything will be fine with the windows open, whether you’re here or not. Take my word for it. Someone steals anything of yours, I’ll replace it for you.”
Lindsey gave him a curious look. “Guess I’m used to D.C. I needed a key fob to get in my building, where there was a security guard in the lobby 24/7. Same fob allowed me up on the elevators, but then I had a separate key for my apartment. No one in their right mind on the ground floor would leave their windows open unless they had bars on them.”
He leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “Things are simpler here. People are different.”
Her gaze met his and lingered, as if she was deciding if she believed him.
“About those candles…” he said.
“Oh, right.” She opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pushed a bottle of dishwashing liquid aside. Behind it were a couple of votive candles that she grabbed and handed to him. “I’m still in the dark about these.”
“We’re going to wax the sash channels on the windows to keep them from getting stuck again.”
Her face lit up with a bright grin. “Brilliant. Show me how it’s done.”
Carden pushed himself away from the counter and gestured for her to follow him to one of the windows flanking the front door. He pressed the bottom edge of the votive against the exposed sash channel, moving it up and down, coating the channel with wax.
“Now you do the other side.” He took her hand and nestled the candle in her palm just right, the thrilling chills he’d gotten when he’d first touched her warming into something much hotter. Cupping his palm over her hand, he stood close behind and guided her as they waxed the opposite channel. Her ponytail brushed against his chin, her hip against his thigh. “There you go,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Perfect.”
Reluctantly he released her hand and stepped back as she turned to face him. She searched his eyes for a moment and he could’ve sworn she was feeling the attraction, too. He clenched his jaw, working to keep control of himself—something he rarely had trouble doing. But Lindsey had him guessing and wondering…and hoping. He stepped around her and muscled open the window they’d just been working on.
“Yay.” Lindsey tilted her head back and opened her arms as the cool evening air wafted in.
Carden needed a little cooling off himself. “Let’s get a couple more of these open to increase the airflow, then you can wax the rest of the channels while I work in the bathroom.”
She focused on the candle in her hand. “That’s a pretty neat trick. You’re one heck of a handyman, Mr. Crenshaw.” She gave him an easy smile, brought the candle to her nose, and sniffed. Shrugging, she said, “Vanilla.”
“Expecting something else?”
“Vanilla’s usually a safe bet—especially for waxing sash channels. Much better than some Axe scent like Anarchy or Dark Temptation. Every time those channels got warm it would smell like a high school prom in here.”
Carden grinned as she headed toward the window next to the fireplace, leaving him gazing behind her. “They actually make Axe candles?”
“I sure hope not, and I’m happy to hear that you don’t know either.” She gave him a playful smirk and began waxing the sash channel, her gaze on him.
He raised his eyebrows. “Dark Temptation doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” Carden struggled to play it seriously. He surprised himself, flirting with her, because he always aimed dead straight.
Lindsey laughed, a sunny sound that brightened the whole place. She tossed the candle in the air and caught it. “I’ll stick with vanilla for now.” She went to work on the second channel. “And salted caramel chocolate chunk later.” She finished up and set the candle on the fireplace mantel. “Now let’s see if this one will open.”
Carden stepped forward and she held up her hand, palm out.
“Whoa, cowboy.” She grinned. “Let me give it a try.” She faced the window, clenched her delicate hand into a fist, and banged on the sash. The girl meant business. Carden liked that she was determined to do things for herself, which didn’t come as much of a surprise considering she’d driven that beat-up U-Haul more than halfway across the country. Lindsey bent at her knees and pushed up on the window with the heels of her hands. It creaked a couple times, then squealed as she lifted it. The cross-breeze caught the hem of her top and it fluttered ever so slightly.
“Sweet,” she said as she grabbed the candle and stepped over to the next stubborn window.
Carden picked up the bag from the hardware store and headed toward the hallway. “Looks like you’ve got everything under control out here. I’m going to get started in the bathroom.” She might not need him to help with the windows now, but he didn’t mind hanging around, just in case she got into a jam.
Chapter 8
As soon as Carden disappeared down the hall, Lindsey pinched her eyes closed, took a deep breath, and blew it out quietly. Getting the windows open was easy compared to the hard work it took to act as if he wasn’t getting to her. The guy was irresistible without props, but then he’d gone and brought her ice cream—ice cream!—and then he’d put on that sexy tool belt. On top of that, he’d taught her the candle trick for the windows, and he was fixing her toilet. He hadn’t even brought up the subject of the first night they’d met, as if he knew she might die of embarrassment.
Why on earth is the guy still single?
Red flags started snapping in her head the second the thought crossed her mind. She’d asked herself the very same question about Hopper when she’d gotten swoony over him and lost all her good sense.
She shook her head, her gaze settling on her couch strewn with books and journals about Thistle Bend she’d brought home from the hardware store/gas station/museum. Turning the place into a credible, memorable museum had to be her focus while she was here. There was no other way to get her sidetracked career back on the rails. She needed to study and interview people and create exhibit designs. The last thing she needed to contend with was another romantic delusion like the one she’d experienced with Hopper.
In the bathroom, tools clanked and water ran. Lindsey imagined Carden working in there, nearly filling the whole tiny room, repairing things, being neighborly. Smokin’ hot and neighborly. His conversation with Holly had confirmed how much he thought of Dean, and Stella had said he enjoyed helping people in town. Lindsey warned herself not to jump to the conclusion that Carden was there because of her. She just happened to be the current tenant in a cabin that needed fixing. Forget the awareness that swirled through her when he’d shown her how to wax the sash channels, standing so close behind her, his strong hand over hers, the pressure
just right.
Lindsey chased the thoughts out of her head as she finished the final window in her bedroom. The toilet flushed a couple of times—hopefully fixed and never to be mentioned between her and Carden again after tonight. She’d had enough toilet talk to last her forever. After the tank filled, quiet settled again in the cabin, chirping insects the only sound outside the open windows. The serene setting would take some getting used to following the perpetual soundtrack of the city that had been part of Lindsey’s life for years. Sirens and traffic and trains. Bells and chimes and chatter.
“You’re all set,” Carden said from behind her. She turned to see him standing in the doorway with nothing but her queen-sized bed between them.
“Thank you.”
“I would normally say ‘my pleasure,’ but that would be a lie.” He gave her a hint of a smile, his blue eyes glinting in the lamplight.
This guy’s going to be trouble.
Her heart ticked off some indecipherable Morse code because the other last thing she needed was the temptation of him in her bedroom talking about his pleasure.
“Dean owes you, that’s for sure.” She quickly walked around the bed and joined him, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. “You’ve definitely earned a scoop of your favorite flavor.” She didn’t make a habit of eating ice cream two days in a row, but he’d been so nice to bring it. She had to eat some with him. Right?
Carden took the lead and headed into the living area, giving her a fine rear view framed by his tool belt. He stopped next to the boxes by the door, unbuckled the belt, took it off, and set it on top of the stack.
Bummer.
Lindsey took the ice cream out of the freezer, grabbed a couple of spoons from the drawer, then remembered she hadn’t unpacked her dishes. “Sorry to make you wait, but the bowls are in one of those.” She pointed to the boxes.
“We’ve got spoons, don’t we?”
She held them up, one in each hand.
Carden picked up the container, swaggered over to the couch, and cleared a space for them to sit among the books and journals. “Then bring ’em on over.”
She picked up a couple of napkins and joined him on the couch as he opened the ice cream container and set the lid aside. He took one of the spoons from her, scooped out a heaping spoonful, shifted to face her, and held it up to her mouth. “You first.”
Lindsey’s heart did a swan dive. Was he going to feed her? “Aw…” She opened her mouth and he tempted her by slowly slipping the spoon inside. She closed her lips around it, creamy-caramel-chocolate melting on her tongue, tasting sweet as sin. Carden sensuously slid the spoon out of her mouth. “Mmm…” she murmured, tipping her head back and closing her eyes for a moment. His sexy, satisfied grin showed her he was pleased with her reaction. A wisp of excitement and nerves swirled inside her. Despite her own warnings, she caught herself thinking of more ways she could please him.
Lindsey licked her lips and dipped her spoon into the ice cream while Carden steadied the container. His gaze held hers expectantly as she brought the spoonful to his mouth. “I’m so ready for this,” he said in a rough whisper that felt like the touch of his calloused fingers on her hand. Mirroring his motions, she fed him the ice cream, captivated by the look of sheer bliss on his face as he ate it. Her temperature rose despite the cool mountain air that had filled the cabin. Carden was getting to her, no question.
“God, that’s delicious,” he said.
She bunched her lips. “Hmm…The marshmallow peach I had last night was tasty, too.”
Eyebrows lowered, Carden tipped the container toward her. He pressed the cool cardboard against her thigh, sending chilly tingles through her that settled like mist. “But this is clearly better.”
Lindsey gave him her most demure look. “I don’t know.” She lifted one shoulder. “I’ll need another taste to be sure.”
Carden tipped his chin slowly, his lips tugging up at one corner. He dipped his spoon into the ice cream, and his gaze met hers knowingly. “I’m on to your game.” He fed her another bite. “But I’m willing to play along.”
Her heart stuttered as she savored the salty caramel and rich chocolate. Clearly he was referring to her ruse to get more ice cream, but her secretly being related to the Karlssons was the first thing that had leapt to mind. How would he even have a clue?
She grinned, hoping her eyes hadn’t revealed anything. Best to distract him with more ice cream—and a lot of it. She dug out an oversized bite that was way too big for the spoon and held it out for him. “Me, too.”
Carden eagerly opened his mouth, flashing straight, white teeth. She carefully guided the spoon in, and most of the ice cream made it. The rest of it dripped onto his shirt.
“Oh no.” Lindsey grabbed a napkin, leaned in, and blotted the drip, coming up against solid muscle. “Sorry.” She raised her head to look at him, her lips dangerously close to his.
“Don’t be.” He smoothed his fingers along her jawline and lifted her chin, kissing her gently, testing.
Lindsey went light-headed with the rush of sensation, the touch of his lips leaving her longing for more. Clutching his shirt in her fingers—napkin and all—she pulled him closer, melting into his kiss. Carden took it from tentative to tender, then parted her lips with the velvety sweep of his tongue. She matched his languid rhythm, hypnotized. He was all chocolate and caramel, creamy cool and sweet.
Sinfully delicious.
No doubt he was 31 flavors of trouble, but resisting him seemed impossible.
He pulled away just inches, setting his piercing-blue gaze on hers. Reaching up, he slowly skimmed the pad of his thumb over her lips.
Lindsey’s breath hitched. “That was one heck of a housewarming present,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else except kiss me again.
Carden nodded slowly. “My pleasure.”
There was that expression again. No wonder he used it often. From what she could tell so far, he was an expert when it came to the subject. She sat back and crumpled the napkin in her hand. The stain from the ice cream was barely visible on his plaid shirt.
Carden tilted the ice cream container toward her. “Want more?”
Do I ever…
She shook her head. “Nothing can beat that last bite.”
He dug his spoon in, ate another mouthful, and glanced at her expectantly. “Nothing but more of the same.”
The guy didn’t say much, but he sure had a way with words. And with his hands…And with his lips…But Lindsey wasn’t sure how wise “more of the same” would be. She’d only been in Thistle Bend a few days, but she’d managed to eat enough to last her a month, and to kiss the super-sexy bachelor whose family had a historical rivalry with hers. On the bright side, she’d mastered driving a rickety U-Haul and learned how to fix stuck windows.
Carden set the ice cream on the coffee table, picked up one of the books about Thistle Bend he’d pushed aside earlier, and thumbed through the pages. “There might be some Crenshaw history in here.”
Probably some Karlsson history, too.
“I’ve got so much to learn about this place,” Lindsey said. “Reading to do, people to interview. I just have to figure out where to start.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “I can give you a crash course.”
“Like a SparkNotes version?”
“Yep. With the special touch of an insider.”
Lindsey shivered at the mention of his special touch, imagining the rasp of his hands against her most tender skin. His long fingers…
As if directed by her thoughts, he slid said fingers up her bare thigh, where goosebumps had risen. “You cold?”
“Just a chill. Believe it or not, I might have to close some of these windows before I go to bed.”
Carden grinned and shook his head. “The temperature swings here are another thing that might take some getting used to.” He closed the book and tapped his thumb against the cover. “I can show you the perfect place to start with
the museum. In fact, I plan to donate it.”
Lindsey narrowed her eyes. “You plan to donate the perfect place to start?”
“Intrigued?”
Clearly there was no doubt about that—on all fronts. “Yes.”
“Then why don’t I pick you up tomorrow night after work and show you what I’m talking about.”
Lindsey winced. “I’m having dinner out tomorrow night.”
Carden set the book aside, and gave her an easy smile. “Anyone I know?”
“Probably. Everyone in Thistle Bend knows one another from what I hear.” She hoped she could play this casual. “Tansy Karlsson invited me to her family’s restaurant. The Canary, right?” She watched him closely for a reaction to her mention of the Karlssons, but if he had one, she missed it.
“They serve killer fried chicken.”
The third last thing she needed. She pressed her hand against her stomach. “I can’t even think about that right now.” She slid to the edge of her seat. “But I won’t be able to get ‘the perfect start’ off of my mind. How about after dinner, if it’s not too late?”
Carden nodded and gave her a sexy grin. “Even if it is.”
Chapter 9
The next morning, Carden strode into his younger brother Travis’s fly fishing store with a cup of coffee in each hand and a bakery box balanced on top. Dragonfly Anglers sat on the same side of the street and several doors down from the soon-to-be Thistle Bend Heritage Museum. Like nearly every structure on Larkspur Avenue, the building had its own storied, multi-use past, as a boardinghouse and liquor store, traceable back to the mining days. The beauty of this one was that it was located directly across from Calypso Coffee, where they brewed kick-ass coffee and baked the best cinnamon rolls anywhere in the Rockies.
Carden stole a glance at the display of new fishing rods that had come in since he’d last been in the store.
