Kitabı oku: «Irresistible»

Irresistible

Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

COMING NEXT MONTH

One of the most frequent questions I’m asked is how I get my ideas for my books. In truth, they come from everywhere. This particular story was born while I was driving to the grocery store, listening to National Public Radio.

The news had come on and the reporter mentioned how many soldiers had died the previous day in Iraq. Their names were withheld, pending notification of their immediate families.

I remember pulling over, suddenly wondering what happened if the soldier in question had no family. Who would be notified and who would mourn?

In that moment Walker Buchanan was created, and through him, Ben. A hardened solider and a young man with the heart of a soldier. A young man with no family.

This book is dedicated to those who have given the greatest gift to their country. May you live on forever in the hearts of those who have loved you.

CHAPTER ONE

THE GREAT UNWELCOME truth is that there are times when a woman needs a man…or at the very least, an unnatural level of upper body strength. Unfortunately for Elissa Towers, this was one of those times.

“Something tells me you won’t be impressed by my to-do list, or the fact that Zoe has a birthday party at noon. Birthday parties are very important for the five-year-old set. I don’t want her to miss this one,” Elissa muttered as she leaned all of her weight into the lug wrench.

She’d been lamenting the extra ten pounds she carried for at least three years. One would think they’d come in handy now, say for leverage. But one would be wrong.

“Move!” she yelled at the lug nut on her very flat tire. Nothing. Not even a whisper of budging.

She dropped the lug wrench onto the damp driveway and swore.

This was completely her fault. The last time she’d noticed the tire getting low, she’d driven to Randy’s Brake and Tire Center, where Randy himself had patched the nail hole. She’d sat in his surprisingly tidy waiting room indulging herself in gossip magazines—a rare treat in her world—not even giving a thought to the fact that he was using some stupid machine to tighten the lug nuts. She always asked him to tighten by hand, so she could take off the flat herself.

“Need some help?”

The question came from nowhere and startled her so much, she wobbled and sat down right in a puddle. She felt the wet seeping through her jeans and panties. Great. Now when she stood up, she would look as if she’d wet herself. Why couldn’t her Saturday start with an unexpected tax refund and an anonymous chocolate delivery?

She glanced at the man now standing next to her. She hadn’t heard stealth guy approach, but as she looked up and up farther still, until their eyes met, she recognized her semirecent upstairs neighbor. He was a few years older than her, tanned, good-looking and at a casual glance, physically perfect. Not exactly the type who tended to rent an apartment in her slightly shabby neighborhood.

She scrambled to her feet and brushed off her butt, groaning as she felt the wet spot.

“Hi,” she said, smiling as she carefully took a step back. “You’re, um…”

Damn. Mrs. Ford, her other neighbor, had told her the guy’s name. Also that he had recently left the military, kept to himself and apparently had no job. It wasn’t a combination that made Elissa comfy.

“Walker Buchanan. I live upstairs.”

Alone. No visitors and he didn’t go out much. Oh, yeah. Good times. Still, she’d been raised to be polite, so she smiled and said, “Hi. I’m Elissa Towers.”

Under any other circumstances, she would have found another way out of her dilemma, but there was no way she could loosen the lug nuts herself and she couldn’t just sit here praying to the tire gods.

She pointed. “If you could be burly for a second, that would be fabulous.”

“Burly?” The corner of his mouth twitched.

“You’re a guy, this is a guy thing. It’s a natural fit.”

He folded his impressive arms over a rather impressive chest. “What happened to women wanting to be independent and equal in the world?”

Hmm, so there was a brain behind those dark eyes and maybe the potential for humor. That was good. Neighbors of serial killers always said the guy was so nice. Elissa wasn’t sure Walker qualified as nice, which was, in a twisted way, a bit of a relief.

“We should have worked on our upper body strength first. Besides, you offered.”

“Yes, I did.”

He picked up the wrench, squatted down and in one quick movement that left her feeling both inadequate and bitter, loosened the first nut. The other three followed just as fast.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I’ll take it from here.”

“I’m already involved,” he told her. “I can put on the spare in a couple of seconds.”

Or so he thought. “Yes, well, that’s a funny story,” she said. “I don’t have a spare. It’s big and bulky and really weighs down the car.”

He straightened. “You need a spare.”

His statement of the obvious irritated her. “Thanks for the advice, but as I don’t have one, it’s not very helpful.”

“So what do you do now?”

“I say thank you.” She glanced pointedly at the stairs leading to his apartment. When he didn’t move, she added, “I don’t want to keep you.”

His gaze dipped from her face to the large nylon bag on wheels, lying next to her on the driveway. His mouth tightened in disapproval.

“There is no way you’re going to carry that tire somewhere yourself,” he said flatly.

Definitely not nice, she thought. “I don’t carry, I drag. I’ve done it before. The tire place I go to is less than a mile from here. I walk there, Randy patches it for me and I walk back. It’s easy. Good exercise, even. So thank you for your help and have a nice day.”

She reached for the tire in question. He stepped between her and it.

“I’ll take it,” he told her.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

He topped her by at least seven or eight inches and he had to outweigh her by a good sixty pounds…every ounce of them muscle. As he narrowed his gaze and glared at her, she had the feeling he was trying to intimidate her. He was doing a good job of it, too, but she couldn’t let him know that. She was tough. She was determined. She was…

“Mommy, can I have toast?”

Why was life always about timing?

She turned to her daughter standing at the entrance to their apartment. “Sure, Zoe. But let me help. I’ll be right in.”

Zoe smiled. “Okay, Mommy.” The screen door slammed shut.

Elissa glanced back at Walker, only to find that stealth guy had used her moment of inattention to pick up her tire and walk toward his very expensive, very out-of-place-for-this-neighborhood SUV.

“You can’t take that tire,” she said as she hurried after him. “It’s mine.”

“I’m not stealing it,” he said in a bored tone. “I’m taking it to be fixed. Where do you usually go?”

“I’m not going to tell you.” Ha! That should stop him.

“Fine. I’ll go where I want.” He tossed the tire into the SUV and slammed the back shut.

“Wait! Stop.” When, exactly, had she lost control?

He turned to her. “Are you really worried I’m going to disappear with your tire?”

“No. Of course not. It’s just…I don’t…”

He waited patiently.

“I don’t know you,” she snapped. “I keep to myself. I don’t want to owe you.”

He surprised her by nodding. “I can respect that. Where do you want me to take the tire?”

So he wasn’t giving up. “Randy’s Brake and Tire Center.” She gave him directions. “But you have to wait a second. I need to get a pair of earrings.”

“For Randy?” He raised his eyebrows.

“For Randy’s sister. It’s her birthday.” She drew in a breath, hating to explain. “It’s how I pay for the work.”

She waited for the judgment, or at the very least, a smart-ass comment. Instead Walker shrugged.

“Go get them.”

THE TRIP TO RANDY’S Brake and Tire Center took three minutes and when Walker parked, he found a short, beer-bellied older man waiting for him.

Randy himself, Walker would guess as he opened the car door.

“You got Elissa’s tire?” the man asked.

“In back.”

Randy eyed Walker’s BMW X5. “Bet you take that to the dealer,” he said.

“I haven’t had to yet, but I will.”

“Nice wheels.” Randy walked around to the rear of the SUV and opened the back. When he saw the tire in question, he groaned. “What is it with Elissa? They’re doing construction across from where she works. I swear, she finds every loose nail hanging around on the road. Always in this tire, too. There’s more patch on it than rubber.”

More patch than tread, Walker thought as he stared at the worn tire. “She should replace it.”

Randy looked at him. “You think? Thing is, you can’t get blood from a rock. Hey, times are tight with everyone, right? Got my earrings?”

Walker took the small envelope out of his shirt pocket and handed it over. Randy looked inside and whistled. “Very nice. Janice is gonna love them. Okay, give me ten minutes and I’ll have this ready to go.”

Walker hadn’t wanted to help his neighbor in the first place. He’d taken a short-term lease on the apartment to give himself time to figure out what to do with the rest of his life in quiet and solitude. He didn’t know anyone in the neighborhood and he didn’t want anyone to know him.

Except for a brief but surprisingly effective interrogation from the old lady living downstairs, he’d kept to himself for nearly six weeks. Until he’d seen Elissa struggling with the lug nuts.

He’d wanted to ignore her. That had been his plan. But he couldn’t—which was a character flaw he needed to work on. Now, faced with a crappy tire that was likely to blow the second she hit sixty on the 405, he found himself unable to walk away again.

“Give me a new one,” he muttered.

Randy raised his bushy eyebrows. “You’re buying Elissa a tire?”

Walker nodded. Best-case scenario, he would replace both rear tires. But he only had the one wheel with him.

The older man puffed out his chest. “How, exactly, do you know Elissa and Zoe?”

Zoe? Walker blanked for a second, then remembered the kid he’d seen around. Elissa’s daughter.

He owed this guy nothing in the way of explanations. Still, he found himself saying, “I live upstairs.”

Randy narrowed his gaze. “Elissa’s a friend of mine. Don’t you go messing with her.”

Walker knew that even after an all-night bender, he could take the old guy and have enough left over to run a four-minute mile. Randy’s posturing would have been almost funny—except it was sincere. He cared about Elissa.

“I’m just doing her a favor,” Walker said easily. “We’re neighbors, nothing more.”

“Okay, then. Because Elissa’s been through a lot and she doesn’t deserve to be messed with.”

“I agree.”

Walker had no idea what they were talking about, but anything to move the conversation along. Randy picked up the flat and carried it toward the garage.

“I’ve got a couple of good tires that’ll be a whole lot safer than this one. Because it’s for Elissa, I’ll give you a good deal.”

“I appreciate it.”

Randy glanced at him. “I’ll even throw a little dirt on it so maybe she won’t notice what you did.”

Walker remembered her defensiveness about not having a spare. “Probably a good idea,” he told the other man.

“YOU’RE POUNDING, DEAR,” Mrs. Ford said calmly as she sipped coffee. “It’s not good for the crust.”

Elissa slapped the rolling pin onto the dough and knew her neighbor was right. “I can’t help it. I’m annoyed. Does he really think I’m so stupid I wouldn’t notice he replaced my old tire with a new one? Is it a guy thing? Do all men think women are stupid about tires? Is it specific? Does he just think I’m stupid?”

“I’m sure he thought he was helping.”

“Who is he to help me? I don’t know him from a rock. He’s lived here, what, a month? We’ve never even spoken. Now suddenly he’s buying me tires? I don’t like it.”

“I think it’s romantic.”

Elissa did her best not to roll her eyes. She loved the old woman but jeez, Mrs. Ford would think grass growing was romantic.

“He took control. He made decisions without speaking to me. God knows what he’s going to expect for it.” Whatever he was expecting, he wasn’t going to get it, Elissa told herself.

Mrs. Ford shook her head. “It’s not like that, Elissa. Walker is a very nice man. An ex-Marine. He saw you were in need and helped out.”

That’s what got Elissa most of all. The “being in need” part. Just once she’d like a little extra put by for a rainy day or a flat tire.

“I don’t like owing him.”

“Or anybody. You’re very independent. But he’s a man, dear. Men like to do things for women.”

Mrs. Ford was nearly ninety, tiny and the kind of woman who still used lace-edged handkerchiefs. She’d been born in a time when men took care of life’s hardships and the most important job for a woman was to cook well and look pretty while doing it. The fact that living like that drove many women to alcohol or madness was just an unhappy by-product not to be discussed in polite society.

“I called Randy,” Elissa said as she slid the piecrust into the pan and pressed it into place. “He told me the tire cost forty dollars, but he’d lie in a heartbeat if he thought it would protect me, so I’m thinking it had to be closer to fifty.”

She had exactly sixty-two dollars in her wallet and she needed most of them for grocery shopping that afternoon. Her checking account balance hovered right around zero, but she got paid in two days, so that was something.

“If I could afford a new tire, I would have bought it myself,” she muttered.

“It’s more practical than flowers,” Mrs. Ford offered. “Or chocolates.”

Elissa smiled. “Trust me, Walker isn’t courting me.”

“You don’t know that.”

She was fairly confident. He’d helped because…Because…She frowned. Actually, she didn’t know why he’d come to her aid. Probably because she’d looked pathetic as she’d wrestled with uncooperative lug nuts.

She rolled out the second crust. Flats of blueberries had been ridiculously cheap at the Yakima Fruit Stand. She’d pulled in after dropping Zoe off at her party. She had just enough time to make three piecrusts before she had to be back to pick up her daughter.

“I’ll finish up the pies after I come back from the grocery store,” Elissa said, more to herself than her neighbor. “Maybe if I take him one…”

Mrs. Ford smiled. “An excellent idea. Imagine what he’ll think when he gets a taste of your cooking.”

Elissa groaned. “You’re matchmaking, aren’t you?”

“A woman of your age all alone? It’s just not natural.”

“I like being a freak. It keeps me grounded.”

Mrs. Ford shook her head as she finished her coffee. She set down the mug, then slowly pushed to her feet. “I need to get back. There’s a Beauty by Tova hour starting on QVC. I’m nearly out of her perfume.”

“You go, girl,” Elissa said.

Mrs. Ford walked to the door that connected their two apartments, then paused. “I left you my list, didn’t I?”

Elissa nodded. “Yes. I have it in my purse. I’ll bring everything by when I get back.”

The older woman smiled. “You’re a good girl, Elissa. I’d be lost without you.”

“I feel the same way.”

Mrs. Ford stepped into her own kitchen and closed the door behind her.

Elissa had been a little disconcerted to discover that her neighbor had access to her house when she’d first moved into her apartment, but that had quickly changed. Mrs. Ford might be elderly and old-fashioned, but she was sharp and caring and adored Zoe. The three of them had quickly become friends, with Elissa and Mrs. Ford working out a system that benefited them both.

Mrs. Ford got Zoe ready for preschool in the morning and fed her breakfast. Elissa handled her neighbor’s grocery shopping, got her to doctor’s appointments and checked in on her regularly. Not that Mrs. Ford was home all that much. She was very active in the senior center and one of her many friends was always ready to pick her up for bridge or scrapbooking or a quick trip to an Indian casino.

“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Elissa said as she carried the three piecrusts over to the oven.

But until then she had to figure out where she would find the money to pay for a new tire and what to say to her neighbor to make sure he understood that she would never, ever, under any circumstances be interested in him.

Not even on a bet. Not even if he showed up naked. Although, to be honest, if he showed up naked, she would probably look because she hadn’t seen a naked man in years. And he was more spectacular than most.

“I don’t need a man,” Elissa murmured as she set the timer. “I’m fine. Empowered. Only thirteen more years until Zoe is grown and in college. Then I can have sex again. Until then, I will think pure thoughts and be a good mother.”

And, very possibly, think about her new neighbor naked. Because if she had to be tempted, she wouldn’t mind him doing the job.

ZOE WAS IN BED BY EIGHT and sound asleep by eight-thirty. Elissa collected one of the blueberry pies and her last five dollars and headed up the stairs to Walker’s apartment.

Despite the absolute silence from overhead, his SUV was parked in front, so she knew he had to be there. She hadn’t seen anyone arrive to pick him up. Not that she’d been watching. She hadn’t! She might have been observing the comings and goings in her community as a way to stay alert for trouble and be a good citizen. The fact that she was fairly confident Walker was alone was only a side benefit of her altruistic civic activity.

Not that she cared if he was dating—she didn’t. But showing up with a pie and five bucks was weird enough to explain to him, without having to deal with a significant other hovering. Not that any woman Walker dated was likely to consider her much of a threat. Elissa knew exactly what she looked like—the wholesome girl next door. She didn’t mind. Her appearance meant her customers were far more likely to be protective than to come on to her, which made life a whole lot easier.

“Procrastinate much?” she asked herself as she forced her brain back to the task at hand. Namely, standing at the top of Walker’s stairs, inches from his front door. If he’d heard her climbing, he could be watching her right now, wondering why she’d come this far without knocking.

So she knocked, then waited until the door opened and he stood there, right in front of her.

He looked good. His T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders and a muscular chest. No doubt those muscles were the reason he’d been able to twist her lug nuts into submission without breaking a sweat. His jeans were worn, loose and faded. His dark eyes seemed expressionless, but not in a scary ax-murderer way. More like he kept the world at bay.

“Hi,” she said, when he remained silent. “I, ah, made pie.” She thrust it toward him and added, “It’s blueberry,” in case his confusion about the type of fruit was the reason he didn’t take it from her.

“You made me a pie?” he asked, his voice low. There was a hint of a question in the rumble, and more than a hint that he thought she was crazy, which she resented. She wasn’t the one breaking the rules here.

“Yes, a pie.” She thrust it forward until he took it, then held out a worn five-dollar bill.

“You’re paying me to eat your pie?”

“Of course not. I’m paying you—” She stopped and drew in a breath. She’d gone from grateful to annoyed in two seconds flat. “You bought me a tire. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that bright, shiny bit of rubber? Is it me in particular or all women in general? Because I know this is a guy thing. You wouldn’t have done this if I were a man.”

“You wouldn’t have needed my help if you were a man.”

“Maybe.” Probably. But that wasn’t the point. “You slunk back here and put on the tire while I wasn’t looking. You even rubbed dirt on it so it wouldn’t look so new. And let me tell you, that’s just strange.”

He actually smiled. It was slight—no teeth, but somehow the action made him look open and approachable. “That was Randy’s idea.”

“It sounds like him.”

He took a step back. “Want to come in and talk about this or do you prefer my porch?”

“The porch is fine. This isn’t a social call.”

The smile faded. “Elissa, I get it. You don’t like that I bought you a tire. Yours had so many patches, it was dangerous. I should have let it go, but I couldn’t. I’m not going to apologize for what I did. I didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t want anything.” He held up the pie. “Except this. It smells good.”

She liked that he wasn’t using her tire against her. Gee, how many times had she been able to say that before in her life?

“I know you thought you were doing a good thing,” she said slowly. “But you don’t have the right to meddle in my life. I called Randy to find out what it cost. I think he lowballed me by about ten bucks, so I’ll be paying you back fifty dollars. It’s going to take me some time, but the pie is to show I’m sincere about it and here’s the first payment.”

He looked at the tattered bill. “I don’t want your money.”

“I don’t want to owe you.” She might not have much cash on hand, but she paid her bills on time and she never used credit except in emergencies where there was a risk of death or dismemberment.

“You’re stubborn,” he said.

“Thank you. I’ve worked hard to get this way.”

“What if I told you the money didn’t mean anything to me?” he asked.

Meaning what? He had plenty? She sighed at the thought. In her next life she was going to be rich for sure. It was right at the top of her wish list. But in this one…

“It matters to me,” she told him.

“Fine. But you don’t have to pay me in cash. We could work out a trade.”

White-hot anger blew up inside of her. Here it was—the truth. Behind that pretty face was a disgusting, evil, heartless bastard. Just like nearly every other guy on the planet.

Of course. Why was she even surprised? She’d been momentarily attracted to Walker, and based on her stellar track record, that meant there had to be something wrong with him. She’d expected a massive flaw. But she hadn’t thought it would be this.

“Not even if you were the last man alive after nuclear winter,” she said between gritted teeth. “I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would be willing…” She wanted to slap him. “It was a tire. It’s not like you gave me a kidney.”

He had the nerve to actually smile at her. “You’d sleep with me if I gave you a kidney?”

“You know what I mean. I’m done here. I’ll mail the rest of the money.”

She turned to leave, but suddenly he was somehow between her and the steps. How on earth had he moved so quickly?

His dark gaze claimed hers and all the humor fled from his face.

“Dinner,” he said quietly. “I was talking about a few meals. You cook every night and I can smell it. I’ve been existing on frozen dinners and bumming meals off my sister-in-law. When I said a trade, that’s what I meant. That’s all I meant.”

He wasn’t touching her, yet she felt his nearness. He was so much bigger than she was—she should have been afraid. She was nervous, but that was different.

Dinner, huh? It, ah, made sense. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Because, honestly, who would expect sex after replacing a cheap tire?

“Sorry,” she said, dropping her gaze to the center of his chest. “I thought you were…”

“I got that. I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Wouldn’t what? Want sex with her? Not that she was doing that sort of thing these days, or for many days to come, but why was he so able to dismiss her? She might be wholesome, but she was kind of pretty. And smart. Smart counted, didn’t it?

Maybe he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was engaged. Maybe he was gay.

That last thought made her smile. Somehow she didn’t think Walker was gay.

“Let’s start over,” he said. “I bought the tire because I didn’t think yours could take one more patch. Randy charged me forty-five dollars for it. I’ll accept the pie and money. You can continue to pay me back as slowly as you’d like. Forget what I said about dinner, okay? The money is fine.”

He was doing everything right. So why did she want to argue with him?

“That works for me,” she said.

“Then we have a deal.”

He shifted the pie to his left hand and held out his right so they could shake on it.

She pressed her palm against his and nodded. “Good.”

His fingers were warm and strong. She felt a little quiver low in her belly. The unexpected reaction made her pull away and take a step back.

Danger came in all shapes and sizes. This particular form was big, powerful and far too sexy for her peace of mind. She still had thirteen years of celibacy ahead of her. Hanging around with Walker wasn’t going to make it easy.

Not that they were hanging. Nope. Not a single hang here.

“I should, ah, go,” she murmured as she edged around him and started down the stairs. “Enjoy the pie.”

“I will. Thank you, Elissa.”

She raced into her house and quickly closed the door behind her. Once there, she leaned against the wood until her heart rate returned to normal.

It was only then she noticed she was still holding the five dollars she’d tried to give him. There was no way she was going back up there tonight. She would leave it in his mailbox or something.

It was painfully obvious she should avoid Walker at all costs. He might be nice on the surface, but her original premise was still true. If she was attracted to him, then there was something seriously wrong with him. Right now, she couldn’t afford another male disaster in her life. She was still paying for the last one.

Literally.

CHAPTER TWO

WALKER DIDN’T HAVE a chance to knock on his brother’s front door. He was barely halfway up the walk when the door was flung open and a very pregnant Penny raced—well, waddled—out to greet him.

“You have a toolbox,” she said as she hugged him as tightly as her large stomach would allow. “Tell me there are tools inside. Real tools with handles and metal ends and unknown purposes?”

He wrapped one arm around her while he hoisted the metal toolbox with the other. “I left my pretend tools at home. When you asked me to bring tools, I thought you meant the real ones.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I did. I love Cal. He’s brilliant and charming and other things I won’t mention out of respect for the two of you being brothers, but he’s not so handy.”

“I heard that,” Cal grumbled from the doorway. “I’m very handy.”

“Of course, dear,” Penny said as she pushed past him. “Are you sure this is okay?” she asked Walker. “Helping out?”

He bent down and kissed her cheek, then closed his hand into a fist and bumped it against his brother’s closed fingers. “Happy to be here. You’re pregnant, you’re still working and Cal’s busy running an empire. I’ve got time.”

He followed them through a living room piled with boxes. Penny had moved into Cal’s house shortly after the wedding in early July. Even though that was nearly six weeks ago, she hadn’t done much in the way of unpacking.

“You’re judging me,” Penny called over her shoulder. “I can feel it. I know this mess violates your military code of honor or whatever, but just go with it.”

“Did I say anything?” Walker asked with a grin.

“You didn’t have to.”

She tucked her long auburn curls behind her ear and paused in front of the kitchen. “The rest of the place may be a mess, but the kitchen is perfect.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Walker glanced at his brother. “How many boxes did you have to find room for?”

“I lost count,” Cal said easily. “When I hit twenty-five, I figured there was no point in knowing.”

Penny was the executive chef at The Waterfront, one of four restaurants owned by Buchanan Enterprises. It was, in theory, a family-owned business, but only one of the Buchanan siblings worked there.

“I need the right equipment,” Penny said as she stepped aside and motioned for Walker to enter the kitchen. “You can’t create magic from crap.”

“You should put that on your business card,” he said as he took in the pale, buttery walls and the large pot rack hanging above the island. Without the dark red paint, the kitchen looked bigger. Windows let in light and brought out the colors in the new tile backsplash.

“You put in a backsplash but you haven’t unpacked or gotten the baby’s furniture ready?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Cal looked at him pityingly. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”

Penny’s gaze sharpened. “I’m sorry. Were you being critical just then? Did you plan for me to cook for you today?”

“He didn’t mean it,” Cal said, stepping between them. “Not everyone understands how your incredible mind works.” He lowered his voice. “Walker brought tools, remember?”

Penny laughed. “I know. It’s okay. Just don’t make me feel guilty. My back hurts.”

“Sorry,” Walker told her, enjoying their banter. He’d always liked Cal and Penny as a couple and had been happy to see them get back together. “Now about the baby’s room.”

“It’s through here,” Penny said, leading the way. “We finished painting last week. Well, Cal did. I supervised.”

“From a distance,” Cal reminded her.

She sighed. “Right. I wasn’t allowed to breathe the fumes. We have the curtains up, too. Now all we need is furniture. We physically own everything—the dresser, changing table, crib—but it’s in boxes.”

“Very nice boxes,” Cal reminded her.

“Oh, yeah. They’re stunning. But imagine if we had actual places to put things.”

The baby’s room was at the back of the house, with a view of the garden. Several large boxes stood in the center of the room. The walls were a soft green, the trim had been painted white. Sheer curtains covered open miniblinds.

“The rocking chair is in the office,” Penny said. “Until we get this cleaned up, there’s no space for it. I have a big area rug, too, but Cal said we should wait to put it down.”

“After we put everything together, we’ll clean up, then put down the rug,” Cal said.

Walker nodded and set his toolbox on the hardwood floor. “Let’s see what you bought.”

Penny stepped into the hallway. “I’ll get started on lunch. We’re having seafood crepes with a light cream sauce, some kind of pasta, I haven’t decided yet, and chocolate mousse torte with fresh berries for dessert.”

Walker’s stomach growled. “Sounds great.” He waited until Penny left, then looked at his brother. “You eat like this all the time?”

Cal groaned. “I had to join a gym.”

“Worth the price of admission.”

“For Penny’s cooking? You bet.”

They moved the boxes out of the center of the floor and decided to start with the dresser.

“Thanks for doing this,” Cal told him as he ripped open the cardboard.

“I don’t mind.”

“Aren’t you still settling in?”

Walker shook his head. “It took me exactly two hours to move in to my apartment and unpack.”

“You had stuff in storage, didn’t you?”

“Not much.” No furniture. Just a few personal things he hadn’t wanted to lose. He’d had to buy a sofa, TV and bed.

“Do you like the place?” Cal asked.

“It works for now.”

His brother pulled out the sheet of directions and tossed them into the closet. “Why an apartment? You could have bought a house.”

“I don’t know where I want to live yet,” Walker admitted. Or what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He’d thought he would stay in the Marines until he retired. Then one day he’d realized it was time for him to leave. “No point in getting something permanent until I decide on a location.”

“You’re staying in Seattle, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan.” As much as he had one.

“Want to come work for me?” Cal asked. “As a major stockholder, you’d be welcome.”

“No thanks. Coffee’s your thing.”

Several years ago, Cal and his partners had started The Daily Grind. Their initial three locations had grown into a popular West Coast chain that was rapidly expanding across the country. Walker had invested his savings in the start-up and the risk had paid off with a large chunk of shares that had steadily grown in value. He’d never bothered to calculate their exact worth, but he wasn’t thinking about getting a job because he needed the money.

“Still looking for Ashley?” Cal asked.

Walker shrugged. “Regularly. I went through another three and haven’t found her. But I will.”

“I don’t doubt it. Oh, Penny said the new general manager at The Waterfront quit.”

“Figures.” The family restaurants were successful businesses, but keeping executive staff was impossible. Gloria Buchanan, matriarch of the family and all-around bitch, drove the most talented away. “Gloria’s not getting in Penny’s face, is she?”

“No way.” Cal grinned. “I wrote the contract myself. Gloria isn’t allowed to step foot in the kitchen without permission.”

Walker set out the pieces of the dresser, then opened his toolbox. “Being married agrees with you.”

“We got it right the second time around. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. What about you?”

“I’m not interested in a second chance with Penny. Or a first one. She’s your girl.”

His brother punched him in the arm. “You know what I mean. You can’t be alone forever.”

“Why not? I don’t need anyone.”

“We all need someone. The difference is some of us are willing to admit it sooner than others.”

“I RESENT THIS,” Elissa said as she stirred the chili simmering on the stove. “I resent being manipulated, even by my own guilt. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

All of this was Walker’s fault, she thought as she crossed to the mixing bowl and poured the corn bread batter into a greased glass pan. She hadn’t been able to shake feeling stupid about her assumption when he’d offered to let her “pay in trade.” His comment about smelling her cooking had taken root in her brain and now she was making chili for the express purpose of apologizing. Plus, she still had to give him the five dollars he’d so artfully avoided when she’d given him the pie.

Twenty minutes later, she knocked on the door between her place and Mrs. Ford’s.

“I can smell the chili,” the older lady said happily. “I took my Prevacid earlier and I’m ready for second helpings.”

“Good. Everything is ready. Have a seat. I’m going to run upstairs and tell Walker dinner is ready.”

Mrs. Ford raised her eyebrows. Elissa sighed.

“It’s not what you think. I still have to give him my first down payment and I’m making up for…well, you know.”

She’d told her neighbor all about the unfortunate misunderstanding. Mrs. Ford had taken great pains to point out that a lady did not sleep with a gentleman for any reason other than love or really powerful sexual attraction. Even being given a kidney wasn’t good enough. As if Elissa didn’t already know that.

“Chili is an excellent choice,” Mrs. Ford said. “A very manly dish. No froufrou vegetables or tofu surprise. An excellent move.”

“It’s not a move.”

“It should be. Elissa, darling, he’s a very handsome man.”

Elissa opened her mouth, then closed it. What was the point of trying?

“I’ll be right back,” she said, then yelled into the living room. “Zoe, dinner’s ready. Please go wash your hands.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Once again Elissa climbed the stairs. She walked briskly across the small landing and knocked firmly on the door. No way she was going to let him know she felt embarrassed by their previous conversation. Nope, except for the fact that she was cooking for him, she was going to pretend it never happened.

He opened the door. “Hello, Elissa.”

Sometime in the past three or four days, she’d forgotten what he looked like. Oh, sure, she could have picked him out of a lineup and been confident he was her neighbor, but she’d lost track of the specifics.

She hadn’t remembered how his dark eyes seemed to observe everything without giving anything away. How his strong features made her want to trust him instantly or that his mouth was both stern and intriguing.

He looked solid, steady…dependable. All very appealing traits, given her history with men.

“Hi. You never took the money.” She thrust the five dollars at him and held her arm steady until he took it from her.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to—”

She cut him off with a flick of her wrist. “I did have to. It helps me sleep at night. I also wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding. I jumped to not very flattering conclusions and I shouldn’t have.”

“I realize how that could have happened.”

She wondered if that was true or if he was just being polite. And then she wondered how his skin would feel if she touched his arms. Was it rough or soft? Did the muscles yield at all or were they—

She mentally put on the brakes and smiled brightly so he wouldn’t guess what she was thinking. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She’d seen plenty of good-looking men before. Some even in person. But she’d never reacted like this. It was worse than feeling guilty. Which meant she should get to the point.

“I made chili,” she said. “You mentioned smelling my cooking and wanting to trade what I owe you for that. I’m all right with that. So I made chili and corn bread. There’s pie left, but you probably still have some of your own, so I don’t know how interesting blueberry pie would be. Although I have ice cream. It was on sale. Chocolate chip. Zoe and I do the chocolate thing.”

When she realized she was babbling, she pressed her lips firmly together, then cleared her throat.

“My point is, you’re welcome to join us.” Hmm, that didn’t sound right. “Mrs. Ford is already downstairs. This isn’t anything but payback. I’m not asking you out or anything. I don’t date. Anyone. I don’t do anything else, either. I’m not issuing a challenge. I know some guys assume if a woman’s alone, it’s a challenge. I’m not. I’m not interested in getting involved or having a fling or anything like that. This isn’t a good time for me. Zoe’s really young and there are other complications.”

Big ones, she thought, thinking that Neil was at least six feet and was never going to go away.

“You’re saying you don’t want to date or have sex with me,” he clarified.

“Right,” she agreed, before actually processing what he’d said.

“Good to know.”

His gaze never wavered and nothing about his expression changed. She wished she could say the same about herself, but no. Even as she stood there, she felt heat climbing her cheeks. No doubt she’d turned bright red. Perhaps because the poor man had never indicated he was interested in her at all. He’d asked for a meal, not a night of hot monkey sex.

“Oh, God,” she breathed. “Not that you asked or anything. I’m just—”

He held up one hand to stop her. “Elissa. Quit while you’re ahead.”

“Good idea.”

“I get the message.”

“Yippee.”

“I understand why you said it. I respect your honesty. Sleep easy. I won’t make a pass at you.”

Which should have made her happy, but she wasn’t sure if he was being agreeable or making fun of her. If only she could slink away and start this day over.

She cleared her throat. “Did you want some chili and corn bread?”

“Yes, but I’ll come down and get a plate. I don’t want to disturb your dinner plans.”

“You mean you want the food but you won’t be joining us?”

“Is that a problem?”

A surprise maybe, but not a problem. “Whatever you’d prefer.”

“Okay. Let me grab a bowl and a plate and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“You don’t have to do that. I have plates.”

“This way I don’t have to return them.”

She winced. Definitely mocking her, she thought glumly. Truth be told, she’d earned it. She turned and walked down to her apartment.

Easy solution, she thought. She’d stop talking to the man. That would increase her odds of not making a fool out of herself. She would also add to her “next life” list. In addition to money, she seriously needed to explore the possibility of being slightly less outspoken.

THE ALARM RANG at 4:00 a.m., as it did every weekday morning. Elissa got up immediately—she’d learned her body cooperated better while it was still in shock over the predawn hour. If she hit the snooze button, she was at risk of never getting out of bed.

She showered, then wrapped her hair in a towel while she applied the barest touch of makeup. Tinted moisturizer, mascara, lip gloss. After dressing in her Eggs ’n’ Stuff uniform, she ran the blow-dryer until she’d passed from wet to damp, then combed her hair and put it in a quick ponytail. At four-thirty, she walked into the kitchen and inhaled the scent of brewing coffee.

Whoever had invented timers on coffee machines deserved an award, or, at the very least, a star named in his or her honor. As Elissa reached for a mug, she heard a very distinct thump from overhead.

The sound was loud and out of place. The moan that followed made her shiver.

Something was going on upstairs. Something she should ignore. Except there was a second thump and a louder moan.

What if Walker had fallen and hurt himself? He looked to be in too good a shape for that, but he could have slipped or fallen while drunk.

She hesitated between not wanting to get involved and knowing she couldn’t leave Zoe until she knew everything was all right. After quickly checking on her daughter, who was still sleeping soundly, Elissa grabbed her trusty baseball bat from the hall closet and hurried upstairs.

She knocked briskly, then announced herself in case he was in the throes of some war-induced hallucination. She didn’t want him to shoot or maim her in his confusion.

When he didn’t answer right away, she knocked again, louder this time, then winced as the sharp sound cut through the quiet of the night.

Finally the door opened. Walker stood there wearing nothing but rumpled pj bottoms. His chest was bare, he needed a shave, and for once his eyes weren’t hiding his feelings. He was amused as hell.

“So much for not wanting to get into my bed,” he said.

She glared at him. “You were thunking and moaning. It’s four-thirty in the morning. What was I supposed to think?”

The humor faded. “Seriously?” he asked.

“I do not make this stuff up.”

He looked at the baseball bat. “Was that to take me out or to protect me from whatever was happening?”

“I hadn’t decided.”

“It’s been a long time since someone came to my rescue.” His lips twitched as if he were fighting the need to grin.

Ha-ha. Yeah, this was a laughfest. She couldn’t believe he was fine.

“So you’re all right,” she muttered. “Great. I won’t bother you again.”

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. When she glanced at him, the humor had faded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking as if he meant it. “I was having a bad dream. I woke up on the floor. I guess I thrashed around until I fell. It was good of you to worry about me.”

She sighed. “But unnecessary.”

“I could pretty much take anyone.”

“Whatever.”

“I appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

She pulled free of his touch. “Now you’re mocking me.”

“A little.”

At that moment, her entire hormonal system stirred to life and noticed there was a half-naked man standing very, very close. Elissa felt the chemicals pouring through her body. Wanting exploded as her girl parts got hard or melty, depending on their placement. All this and she hadn’t even had her coffee.

“I need caffeine,” she muttered.

“Me, too.”

“I have a pot on and—” she glanced at her watch “—twenty minutes until I have to leave. You’re welcome to a cup.”

She expected him to refuse. Instead he surprised her by saying, “That would be great,” then following her downstairs.

She wanted to point out he had bare feet and wasn’t wearing a shirt. Then she told herself that if he didn’t care, she should just smile and enjoy the show.

Once in her kitchen, she put down the baseball bat, grabbed a second mug and held it out to him. He waited for her to pour her own coffee before taking the carafe for himself.

“I assume you take it black,” she murmured, aware of Zoe sleeping just down the hall.

“I used to be a Marine,” he said. “What else?”

She smiled, then leaned against the counter. “Have a lot of bad dreams?”

“They come and go.” He shrugged, then took a drink. “Some things can’t be forgotten.”

“Is that why you left?” she asked. “Too much bad stuff?”

“Maybe.”

She had the feeling she was prying. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay. I spent a lot of time looking for snipers and listening for bombs. Sometimes they come back to me.”

She had her own nightmares, but they weren’t nearly that violent.

“I hope I didn’t wake Zoe,” he said.

“You didn’t. I checked on her before I went up to your place. She could sleep through a tornado. I vacuumed a lot during her naps when she was a baby. I read somewhere it works for kids who sleep soundly. In her case, it worked.”

This was the strangest conversation she’d had all week, she thought. She would never in a million years have imagined a half-dressed, barefoot Walker in her kitchen at four forty-five in the morning, drinking coffee and talking about her daughter and being a Marine.

“She’s a good kid,” he said.

“I like to think so.” She hesitated. “Is it strange to be back in civilian life, having a child living nearby, that sort of thing?”

“There are kids everywhere. At least here, Zoe can grow up safe. I didn’t always see that.”

There was a lot of regret in his voice. She wondered what he had seen, then realized she probably didn’t want to know.

She noticed that even that early, his posture was perfect. She tried to subtly square her own shoulders and slump a little less.

“Great chicken,” he said.

It took her a second to realize he meant her uniform. She glanced down and laughed at the large hen on her apron. “I work at Eggs ’n’ Stuff. It’s a breakfast and lunch diner.”

“I know it.”

“Then you recognized the uniform. Frank, my boss, is a great guy, but we can’t talk him out of the chicken. Apparently it dates back to the 1950s. At least the shoes are comfy.” She held up one foot, showing her white orthopedic lace-ups. “I’m just waiting for these bad boys to come in style.”

“You’re on your feet all day.”

“Still, a little pretty wouldn’t hurt. But they, and the chicken, are a small price to pay. I get fabulous tips, really good benefits and once Zoe starts school, I’ll be home before her.”

“Who gets her ready in the morning?”

“Mrs. Ford.”

“I thought maybe your ex-husband came over to take care of things.”

For a full two seconds she thought he was fishing to find out about her marital status. Then she remembered the unfortunate babbling incident a few days before, where she’d flat out told him she wasn’t interested in dating or sex, only to realize the poor man hadn’t even asked.

“No ex,” she said easily.

“Then if I see a strange man lurking in the bushes, I’ll beat the crap out of him.”

“Absolutely.”

She took a last drink of coffee and looked at the clock.

“You have to go,” Walker said, putting down his mug. “Sorry about bothering you. I’ll try to have my nightmares more quietly. Thanks for the coffee.” He picked up the baseball bat. “And for coming to my rescue.”

She sighed. “I hate starting my day feeling foolish.”

“Don’t. You did a good thing.”

He put the bat down and left.

Elissa rinsed out both mugs, slipped the bat back in the hall closet, did a last check on Zoe, opened the door between her place and Mrs. Ford’s, then walked to her car.

As it was August, the sun was already up and birds all over the neighborhood were announcing the fact. She drove down the quiet streets and thought about Walker. He was an interesting man. Not a serial killer. She was willing to let that worry go. But he did have his secrets. Of course, so did she.