A Wifey for the Bad Boy(77)

But so had Kyle, once upon a time.

Shaking her head to keep the memories away, she went down the hall to the Blue Room, named for the hideous turquoise paint on the walls. This house was so big, they had to have some way to keep track of all the rooms. Opening the door to the bedroom, the scent of pine and something citrusy, orange maybe, came wafting her way. Must be Mathew's soap, or shampoo. The door to the bathroom was cracked slightly and a mist of steam rolled out. She walked in quietly and set the clothes on the bed. Was that singing she heard?

This guy was a little too cheerful. She'd be crabby as all hell if her car got a flat, she had to walk a quarter of a mile, and then got interrogated on a porch. While wet and cold. Descending the stairs, she allowed a small smile. This evening might be more interesting than she'd planned.

At the fireplace, she wadded up newspapers and gathered sticks of kindling. It had been a long while since she'd built a fire, but she recalled the basics. A few small logs on top of the tinder, then larger ones once it caught.

"You must have been a Girl Scout."

Sara whirled around to see Mathew leaning on the wall, watching her. Orange, definitely. He smelled like orange. And looked like a Greek god. His legs seemed even longer in the tight pants, and the shirt clung to his torso, showing muscles that took a bit of work to achieve. So he was a vain, rich guy. Even worse than just plain rich. His mouth curved into a slow smile, like he knew the effect he had on her racing heart. Thankful again for the low light to hide her pink cheeks, she turned back to her task.

"No, not a Girl Scout. But I know how to build a fire."

"I'd be happy to take over there, if you'll hunt up some food. I'm starving."

As if on cue, her own stomach rumbled. "Me too. I think there's a few slices of pizza left. If you don't mind it cold."

"That sounds delicious. I lived on cold pizza in college. Any chance there'd be a beer to go with that?"

Happy to escape to the kitchen, she grabbed the box of pizza and a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. She hoped pale ale worked for him. Mathew didn't seem like the picky type. Sara preferred wine, so she perused the rack in the kitchen. Probably not the really good stuff. That would be in the cellar and no way would she dive into that dark pit. She should call Lucy and ask her which brand from the kitchen selection would be decent.

Oh shit! She forgot to call Lucy and let her know she was safe from the mysterious doorbell ringer. Right on cue, her phone vibrated with a text.

What's going on? U ok?

Fine. Guy at door is Dads friend. Nice guy.

Sara pondered a minute, then couldn't resist.

Cute 2.

What? Tell more.

Gotta go. Pizza party.

More!

Sara smiled, turned the volume all the way down and stuck the phone in her pocket. Deciding to make the meal a little classy, she slid the pizza slices out of the box and onto a plate, and put the beer and wine on a tray. There. Not too bad, considering she did this all by the beam of a flashlight. Picking up the tray she headed back to the living room.

Warmth and light hit her as soon as she turned the corner. Much better. Mathew had lit more candles and the place looked extremely inviting. She made a mental note, burn candles more often.

Of course, having this incredibly appealing guy in the room helped. He had his long legs propped on a coffee table, head reclined on the back of the couch, and his eyes closed. He looked exhausted. Still cute, but exhausted. She set the tray down quietly and studied him again. Younger than her dad, by a few years. Those laugh lines added to his good looks, making him appear mature, but not old. Brown hair, with some blond highlights shone in the firelight.

"You don't get many men to look at where you come from?" He didn't open his eyes, didn't move while asking the question. "You're staring at me again."

Damn it, was he magic, he could see through his eyelids? "I'm just trying to see if I can place you, in any pictures my dad has shown me."

Good save.

"You'll see one on the shelf, next to the big window. When your dad and I were in Africa."

She set the tray down and he popped open the beer, then dug into the pizza. Sara wandered over to the window to find it. Africa. Hunting some poor animal for a trophy, no doubt. Rich guy games.

"I was just heading off for a stint for Doctors Without Borders. Doug was there at the same time, doing some pro bono work for the group. We managed to meet up, got someone to take a picture. It turned out pretty good, so we kept it.

There. Her dad and Mathew, posed in front of a gorgeous sunset in an exotic background. Mathew had a slight beard and longish hair and her dad, he looked happy. Really happy. She didn't know he'd done volunteer work as a lawyer.

"You're a doctor?"