LITMIR.BIZ

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sure,” she began.

      “I’m sure. Good night, Paige.”

      “Good night.”

      Emma was, as usual, awake by six the next morning, which meant that Paige was, too. After changing the baby’s diaper, Paige tucked her against her hip and started down the stairs. When she stepped into the living room, she had a moment to wonder if she’d only dreamed the disaster she’d come home to the night before because the room was absolutely immaculate. Continuing on to the kitchen, she found that the same was true there.

      She settled Emma in her high chair with a cup of juice and set about making a pot of coffee. Emma banged her sippy cup on the tray.

      “Yes, I know you want breakfast,” she said soothingly, “but I need my caffeine kick in the morning.”

      Emma banged her cup again but was somewhat appeased when Paige sprinkled a few Cheerios on her tray. She put the cereal box back in the cupboard and opened the fridge to retrieve the eggs and milk. When she closed the door again, the note tacked to it fluttered.

      Please don’t call the police. I didn’t steal your car—I simply borrowed it to get to the B and B because you still have the keys to my Jeep. I’ll be back early in the a.m., but please call my cell (201-555-4757) if you need your car before then.

      Zach

      She set the eggs and milk on the counter before she retraced her steps to the living room, peering out the front window just in time to see her car pulling into the driveway beside the Jeep that was still parked there.

      The driver’s side door of the Audi opened and Zach stepped out.

      His blue eyes were shaded from the sun by dark glasses and he was casually dressed in a Just Do It T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and a pair of well-faded jeans that hugged his narrow hips. He truly was an exceptional specimen of masculinity and—judging by the speed with which Melanie Quinlan raced down her walk, practically dragging her Chihuahua behind her—she obviously wasn’t the only woman who thought so.

      Though Paige couldn’t hear what Melanie said, she knew her neighbor had called out to Zach, because he turned to respond. But he didn’t chat with her for very long, since he was almost at the front door when Paige pulled it open.

      Zach smiled and her pulse leaped.

      “I’m not too early, then?” he said by way of greeting.

      “No. Emma is an early bird.”

      “And you’re not,” he guessed.

      “I never used to be, but I’ve learned to adapt.”

      “I didn’t mean to intrude on your morning,” he said, “but I wanted to get your car back before you needed it.”

      “I was just going to make some eggs if you wanted to join us.”

      “I didn’t come over here to be fed,” he protested, though not very vehemently.

      “And if I wasn’t already planning on making breakfast, I wouldn’t have offered to feed you,” she told him.

      “In that case, I’d love some eggs,” he replied, and followed her into the kitchen.

      Emma’s face lit up when she saw him, and Zach’s heart melted. “Ack! “ she said, which was apparently her interpretation of his name and which she followed with her favorite word, “Pawk.”

      He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Maybe later,” he told her, then, “Mmm, that coffee smells great.”

      “You know where the mugs are,” Paige said. She dug his keys out of her purse and set them on the counter. “I completely forgot we’d switched vehicles last night.”

      “Not a problem,” he assured her, reaching around her to open the cupboard door.

      As he did, he caught a whiff of her scent. It was subtle, with just the slightest hint of vanilla, which made him think it was probably a lotion rather than perfume. Of course, that brought to mind images of Paige smoothing lotion over her naked skin, running her hands up her long legs, down her slender arms, over her—

      “Scrambled?”

      The question jolted Zach out of his fantasy. “What?”

      “Your eggs.” She continued breaking them into a bowl. “Do you like them scrambled?”

      “Sure,” he said and filled his mug from the pot.

      She splashed some milk into the bowl with the eggs, added a dash of salt and pepper and picked up the whisk.

      Zach sipped his coffee.

      Paige poured the mixture into a frying pan. “Did you bring in a cleaning crew after I went up to bed last night?”

      “Not necessary,” he said. “It looked a lot worse than it was.”

      “Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical about that.”

      He grinned. “Okay, it was pretty bad, but my mother taught me to always pick up after myself.”

      “Well, it was a pleasant surprise to wake up this morning and not have to face the chaos I saw last night.”

      “If you were impressed with a little tidying, you should see what I can do with a bed.”

      The inadvertent innuendo cracked between them, sizzling in the air like the eggs in the pan.

      Paige’s cheeks turned pink, confirming that she had taken the same mental detour he had. And he found himself wondering if her thoughts had drifted in that direction even half as often as his had. And if they had—if they were both feeling this tug of attraction—what the heck were they going to do about it?

      Nothing. He answered his own question firmly. Definitively.

      He cleared his throat. “I meant that I can make up a bed so tight that a quarter tossed down on the middle of the mattress will bounce six inches,” he explained.

      Paige just nodded and kept her focus on the eggs in the pan, while he tried to block out the mental image of bouncing on a mattress with her. Because how completely inappropriate was that? And why did he, even knowing it was completely inappropriate, find the idea so damned appealing?

      He pushed the thought out of his mind and asked, “Can I help you with anything?”

      “You can butter the toast,” she said, just as it popped out of the toaster.

      Zach was grateful for the task because it gave him something to do with his hands so that he couldn’t give in to the urge to reach for her and determine once and for all if the attraction he felt was mutual.

      Unfortunately, the task didn’t keep his mind as occupied as his hands, and his thoughts continued to wander. And although he couldn’t deny that several of those thoughts touched upon plans for getting Paige naked, he found himself simply enjoying the morning routine. Working with Paige to put breakfast on the table, retrieving the sippy cup Emma kept throwing to the ground, dodging the bits of toast and egg that she threw at him, then helping Paige tidy up the kitchen again when they’d finished their meal.

      Their conversation was easy—although they were both careful not to make any mention of Emma’s paternity—and he found himself relaxing in her company. Not that he was completely relaxed—how could he be when he was so keenly aware of her presence, her every movement and every breath?

      No doubt about it—twenty-three months was a long time for a man to go without the pleasures of female companionship, yet he hadn’t been aware of how very long it had been, and he certainly hadn’t felt so acutely deprived until he met Paige. Which meant that he didn’t want sex as much as he wanted Paige.

      And that, he knew, was a big complication.

      After the kitchen was cleaned, Paige left Zach with another cup of coffee while she took Emma upstairs to get her washed up and changed.

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