No Cooldown for Love (Rock Falls), page 10
Then she allowed the tears to come.
When she woke, she knew she wasn’t alone. The sound of keys clacking reached her and she could feel Mitchell in the room with her. Doing a mental confirmation that she hadn’t stripped down to nothing, she sat and pushed off the bedding.
He sat facing the bed, working on his computer. A steaming mug of what smelled like coffee was at his left. Those brown eyes lifted over the lid of his device to find her.
“Feeling better?”
“Sure.” She wanted to yell no and see if he would hold her. God, she could cry for a few days.
He ran his gaze over her before grunting and looking back at the screen.
She didn’t have it in her to try and play nice. Better to leave the room. After making the bed, she took a deep breath and walked to the door. At least her leg was feeling better.
The moment her fingers curved around the handle, he spoke. “Do you know computer games?”
She paused, frowned, and glanced to where he sat watching her, his gaze sharp and intense. Also, hot.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Wondered if you would be able to give me your opinion of one.”
God help her, she longed to. Anything to be closer to him, even though it wasn’t smart and she needed to remember they weren’t a couple. They were barely friends.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never played one in my life.”
She turned the handle.
“Not even a version of solitaire?”
“I’ve used real cards.” She forced a small smile. “I’ll let you get back to your work. Sorry if I disturbed you.”
Something flashed in his gaze, but she dipped out of the room and headed downstairs before she could overanalyze what she thought she’d seen or give in and sit close to him, allowing herself to be surrounded by his scent.
She wove through the main room, nodding greetings but not stopping. Sinking to a seat near the fire, she looked out the window.
“Looks like it’s coming down harder than it was yesterday.”
She gave Alistair a brief smile as he claimed a seat near her, only to return her gaze out the window and to the wall of white.
“Any idea how long we’ll be here? I know the plows can’t get through but I’m amazed by how fast it’s coming down.”
“This is a storm the likes of which they’ve not seen in years. I think Naomi said close to a century.”
Fucking perfect.
“Reminds me of a time when I was in the Hakkōda Mountains. Did you know that Aomori City gets the most snow in the world?” She’d been doing a story on sparsely populated Higashidori village’s abalones and sea urchins, after which she’d visited Aomori City for a while to enjoy the snow.
“Where’s that?”
She shook her head with a smile. “Japan. Sorry, my mind tends to wander.”
He leaned close and nudged her arm with his. “Don’t worry, Hope. We’ll keep you occupied.”
“Thank you.” Try as she might, she wasn’t sure how much joy she’d interjected into her tone. She didn’t often get lost in thoughts of places she’d been. Must be the fact I recently lost my mentor.
Alistair stretched his legs out in front of him and laced his fingers together, resting them over his flat stomach.
“So, tell me about you, Hope. What makes you tick? What’s your favorite dessert…and what’s your idea of a perfect date?”
It wasn’t possible to stay distant with his infectious tone. She placed a hand over her chest, batting her lashes. “So personal, and so soon? Why, Alistair, I’m not sure I’m ready for such an inquisition.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes.
Hope liked him. Wished she’d been attracted to this man. Or anyone else here besides the one she shared a room with…by default.
“I’m pretty much a what-you-see-is-what-you-get gal. Dessert wise, I love a good key lime pie, but I don’t turn my nose up at any good food. Life’s too damn short for me to deny myself things that make me happy.”
Chapter Eight
Standing off to the side, Mitchell observed Hope as she spoke with Alistair. Things had been strained between them since he’d stiffened up at her question last night.
It sucked. He hadn’t meant to hurt her with his reaction but damn it, his guys were right, his mother had done a number on him. He clenched a fist and took several deep breaths.
This should be perfect. She was keeping out of his way so he could do exactly what he had convinced himself he wanted to do. Bury himself in work.
Why then do I keep coming to find this woman?
He couldn’t stay away from her. She wasn’t seeking him out, it was him coming after her. And in cases like he was faced with now, he wanted nothing more than to wedge himself between her and the man she was talking and laughing with. Not a viable option.
Okay, it was, but it wasn’t one he should act on. Delano, Linc’s father, wouldn’t be pleased with his behavior and the man had made it abundantly clear how proud he was that all three of them had manners and knew how to treat others. Especially women.
He forced himself to retreat upstairs to the room. When he shut the door behind himself, he wasn’t met by the relief he was used to feeling when he didn’t have to be around people. No, this time there was an empty spot in his stomach that he didn’t much care for. He wanted to fill it.
Mitchell walked to the table and stared down at the lid of his computer, not making a move to open it. A knock on the door came as a welcome intrusion. He strode to the door and opened it to find Naomi’s husband Phillip standing there.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, son. I know you’re probably very busy but we’re running low on wood and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me bring some more in.”
Physical activity. Exactly what he needed.
Immediately thoughts of a naked Hope flashed through his mind. Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Of course. Let me grab my coat.”
Once he shrugged into it and they were in the hall, he closed the door behind him and followed Phil down to the first floor. It wasn’t easy to avoid stealing a peek into the living room in a desperate attempt to snag a glance of Hope.
The cold slapped him with fervor the moment they were outside. He turned up his collar and wished for Monterey once again. He trailed the man as he followed a rope running from the main house to the barn. The icy pellets belted his face, making him think this was less snow falling and more sleet. Either way, it hurt like a mother. He angled his head best he could to protect his exposed skin.
The two of them loaded up sleds, hauled them to the porch, and carried the wood inside the back door to line it up against the wall. They made a total of three trips before Phil was content with the amount they had. Mitchell carried up the logs and placed them in front of the rooms, letting Phil go in and add more for each fireplace.
At his room, he opened the door and pushed in, arms loaded with wood, and carried it to the tall frame log holder that was nearly empty. He dropped the logs in and swore as pain licked up his palm from the slivers that speared him.
“Fucking shit!”
“What happened?” Hope’s question came from behind him and he turned in time to see her move from the door toward him. He shook his hand and opened his mouth to tell her nothing when she scowled up at him. “Give it to me.”
Yeah, four words he would be reliving in his mind. Although with an entirely different meaning behind them.
Allowing her to take his hand, he ignored the flip of his belly at her touch and stared at her, unwilling to miss a moment of her expression.
“Christ you’re cold.”
Her voice alone pushed heat into him. “Helped Phil with bringing in more wood.”
“Phil, huh?” She moved them to the bathroom, still holding his hand.
Mitchell followed her. Willingly. The hold she had on his hand didn’t matter one bit. He would trail after her anywhere.
“Phil. Naomi’s husband.” The room was small and he couldn’t help but notice how easily the tiny space allowed her exotic scent to filter to his nose.
“I know who he is.” She opened the mirrored medicine cabinet and pulled out a first-aid kit.
One he’d not even known was there. However, it would explain how she’d been able to do her own bandages.
Her fingers couldn’t even close around his wrist but her hold on him was ironclad. Not that he had any intention of moving from her.
“How can they not have tweezers in here that are worth a damn?”
“I have some.”
She snapped her head up to his and he had an uncommon urge to press his lips to hers. “Where?”
“In my pants.” When she glared he chuckled. “Really. In my pocket. My Leatherman has tweezers in it.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And here I was thinking you were telling me you had something small in there.”
Yeah, he inched closer, loving how her eyes widened, but still she held his gaze. “Nothing in there is small.”
Her lush mouth twitched. “Are you taking it out? Or did you need me to search for it?”
Holy fuck. If this kind of amusement and happiness was what his friends had with their women, no wonder they would move the world for them.
“Anytime you want your hand in my pants, Flykra, you’re welcome to slide it in.” Using his left hand, he reached across his body to his right pocket and pulled it out. “Here you go.”
When she took it from him, he watched her as she looked at his Leatherman. It was matte hunter green and graphite.
“This is nice. Heavy.”
Mitchell swallowed his response which would definitely have been sexual in meaning.
He showed her where the tweezers were because he kind of liked her holding his hand and didn’t want her to release him to locate it. But she did and he could barely stop the whimper of disappointment. Seconds later, her right hand gripped his and she was using her left on the tweezers.
“You’re a lefty?”
She remained focused on his palm. “I’m ambidextrous but I’m more comfortable with my left for delicate things.”
There wasn’t a shred of bragging in her tone. She had simply made a statement to answer his question. Hope angled his hand and swiftly plucked out the first splinter. She didn’t stop to clean it but moved on to the second and within moments had that one pulled free as well.
Mitchell didn’t move as she cleaned his palm. Then she looked up at him, a shy smile on her face.
“I think you’re fine.”
“Likewise, Flykra.” He brushed the back of his uninjured hand along her soft cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“What are you calling me?”
“Something in a different language.”
He waited as she pondered his words, taking the opportunity to slide her fingers between his. The air in the bathroom grew thick between them.
“You speak other languages?”
“I do. One of my first teammates in the pros was from Denmark and I didn’t think it was right that he had to learn our language but we weren’t expected to learn his.”
“Hmm, go figure.”
He removed the miniscule distance between them, keeping her hand entwined with his. “What?”
“I’m not used to Americans giving a damn to learn anyone else’s language. It’s been my experience they’re all ‘you’re in this country, learn to speak English,’ or ‘I’m traveling and am a guest, you should speak it to make me feel better.’”
“Travel a lot, do you?”
“I do.” She cleared her throat. “I should get going downstairs and out of your way.”
She untangled their hands and slipped by him. By the time he had his head out of his ass, she had vanished.
“Good job, asshole.”
He glanced at his hand and smiled as he realized she’d jetted with his Leatherman. How was it this one woman continued to turn his world on its axis? Going to his cell phone, he scowled when he realized there wasn’t any signal.
Had to happen sometime and it was probably going to be sporadic until they got out of this current situation. He wanted to head downstairs and be around Hope but he made himself stay in the room. Working until lunch, he had just stored the computer when the door opened after another soft knock.
Hope poked her head in and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Apologies. I’ll be out in a moment.”
“This is your room as well, Hope. You don’t have to run away because I’m here.” He rose from the table and strode toward her.
Now that she was right there, he couldn’t maintain the distance. His body fucking craved to be closer to her.
“How are you feeling?” He gave in to the urge and moved some of her curls behind her ear.
There was a flash of heat in those eyes he couldn’t stop thinking about. She gave a small shrug. “I’m okay.”
He wasn’t. Eyes drifting down to her plump lips, he smothered the groan punching at him to escape.
“Let me change your bandages.”
Mitchell had expected an argument but was shocked when she responded.
“Okay.”
…
If there was a photo by the word insane it would be hers. Why else would she be subjecting herself to this? Hope didn’t need him to change the bandages on her forehead. She was capable of standing before the mirror and handling this on her own.
But his offer had come and she hadn’t been able to say no.
Weak. I’m so weak.
And she didn’t care. For the moment, she longed to be weak and seek protection and shelter from someone stronger. No, not someone—Mitchell.
She didn’t speak as he led her across the floor of the smaller room to the bathroom. Much like they’d done when she had removed his splinters.
“I…I have your Leatherman.” She licked her lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it with me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She stiffened and reared from his touch. Did he think she was stealing his things?
Mitchell grasped her chin and clucked his tongue. “Bad joke. It’s my turn to apologize. I know you had no intention of walking off with it.” He peeled off the first bandage then gave her a smile. “I was trying to figure out if you wanted to return it to my pocket so you had that excuse to put your hand in my pants or if you were distracted by me when you ran.”
Heat surged. She licked her lips and noticed how his gaze tracked the action without even attempting to hide it.
“Why are you so set on the untruth of me running from you?”
He held her stare as he pulled off the second bandage. “You’re the one who leaves this room, not me.”
She poked him in the chest, frowned, and did it again, testing the firmness. There wasn’t anything soft on him, while there was more than enough on her. “I was trying to be respectful and give you space.”
He inched closer, pushing her finger more against his rock-hard torso. Totally unfair. Did he have any part of him that wasn’t hard and attractive?
“Maybe space from you is the last thing I want.” His gaze blazed down at her.
God, this wasn’t proper. Her legs trembled and she was positive he could hear how hard her heart was beating.
“Thought we established that I’m not the kind of woman that’s in your life.”
He clenched his jaw but his touch was infinitely gentle as he cleaned the cut. The silence stretched as he put on two more bandages.
“We did no such thing.” His voice was low and rich, the perfect pairing to his masculine scent.
The urge to lean the rest of the way and bite his lower lip smacked her hard and she had to self-correct. “Really? Because that’s not how I remember that talk going.”
“Want to have it again?” He dipped his head so they were nearly nose to nose. “Because I remember you shutting down and giving me your back in our bed.”
Our bed. God, the thought made her shiver. If only. If. Only.
Maybe he had a point. But that didn’t mean she wanted to relive how much larger her size was versus the other women she’d seen by his side. She’d not lied to him—she was confident with her size. She was the size she was, and she didn’t strive to become a single digit clothing-wearer. She wasn’t unable to move about and do things because of her weight. Hope lived an active life, was in shape, and according to her doctor, was in incredible health. She simply didn’t have a skin-and-bones body type.
But her hesitation with Mitchell was more than that. She’d nearly given up her life to a man before and he’d turned around and destroyed her. She wasn’t falling for that again.
Swiping her tongue along her lips, she huffed. “Let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly. You’re mad because I respected the pillow boundary and wanted to sleep?”
“The fucking pillow boundary was your idea—one you violate every night, and I for one am goddamn pleased you do because I get to have you pressed against me as we sleep.” He released her chin and bracketed her in between his arms, his body, and the edge of the sink. “If the only time you’re willing to trust me is when you’re sleeping, I’ll take that.” His nostrils flared. “For now. And you didn’t want to sleep, you wanted to avoid talking to me.”
Like right now.
“Not at all how I remember it.”
“Shocking,” he snarked.
“Don’t cop an attitude with me, Mitchell Anderson. I’m not going to stand here and let you do that because of who you are. Let’s recall last night.”
His lips twitched and he nodded. “Let’s.”
