So. Long(43)

A grin overtakes me. She’s going to hate me, because she’s obviously not happy with the situation, and she’ll be even less happy when she sees her door, but damn. “I can’t wait to see what’s under that towel.”

She frowns. “Trust me, it ain’t pretty.”

I shake my head. “Betcha I’d beg to differ.”

She rolls her eyes. “Things didn’t go as planned. Some of that last strip stuck to me—it’s a fucking train wreck.”

My laugh sneaks out.

She lets out a huff of frustrated air. “I’m not kidding. I denuded half of it, but the rest still looks like a freaking rainforest.”

I step to her, tucking my fingers into the top of her towel, and tug at the edge. “I bet it’s still sexy.”

Her hand covers mine, holding tight and not allowing me to pull it from her.

“No. It isn’t. It’s anything but sexy. This is the reason people pay big bucks for spa days and all those permanent treatments that I can’t afford. It’s torture—sheer torture, and now I’m just going to shave my peaches, because those are too sensitive to put through this shit.” She pries my fingers off of her towel.

I let go. “I’m just glad no one was murdering you.”

“Not unless I could die from my coochie skin being ripped off with wax strips.” She gives a slight shiver. “And what was that sound?”

I shrug. “Oh, yeah. I kicked in your door when you didn’t answer.”

Her eyes go wide. “You did what?”





THIRTEEN





I rush to my living room.

Sure enough, the summer heat floods through the doorway along with the morning sun. Though the door still hangs on its hinges, it swings wide, the wood around the doorjamb a broken mess.

Chloe basks in the light, laid out on the floor like she’s a queen awaiting her servants.

My hands fly up to cover my open mouth.

Adam smoothes his hand down over his beard as his eyes dart between the broke-ass door frame and me. “Sorry about that.”

“Why? Why did you kill my door?”

He steps to it and pushes it closed, holding it in place with the tips of his fingers and inspecting the damage.

“Spike had your cat treed. I was bringing her back to you. I heard a couple of really loud and pain-filled screams. I did call out, but you didn’t answer. So I did what anyone would do. I came in to save you.”

He sounds so convinced that this is normal behavior. Well, maybe it is. I honestly wouldn’t know how most men would react to the sound of a woman crying out.

Matt was less than heroic—much less than.

I let go of the image of Matt and push him from my mind as I massage the tension building between my eyebrows.

“Okay. I appreciate that you thought I was being brutally murdered. Please tell me you can fix this. I can’t afford to pay a carpenter—especially on short notice. And I don’t want to sleep in a house with no front door.”

His expression says I’ve insulted him. “Of course I can fix it. Real men can fix anything.”

Real men?

“Being handy and able to repair things doesn’t make a guy a real man. My ex could fix anything, and he’s a complete ass. Not at all the kind of real man anyone should want.”

Then again, Marcy wants him. Meh, she’s welcome to him.

“Well, this is nothing. I’ll have it done before bedtime—unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you’d like to spend the night with me, and then I can do it in the morning. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Yeah. I bet you would.”

“What?” He holds out his hands like he’s surrendering. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

A black ball of fur grabs my ankle, digging in with her claws. I hop to the side, trying to untangle myself from her grasp.

When that doesn’t work, I swoop down to pick up Chloe. “You. You and that dog. And now look at my door.”

“No, the door’s on me. I’ll get it fixed. Let me make a run to the home store. I’ll be back in a little while.” He takes the cat from my hands, scratching her under her chin and eliciting a loud purr.

He hands Chloe to me and leans close, whispering, “You go fix your train wreck. I want to see what’s under that towel later, and if you’re lucky, I’ll taste your peaches.”

A flush rushes over me, and before I can catch my breath, he’s gone. By the time I get my shit together, my door swings behind him, and Chloe sits, licking her paw in the open doorway.

I shake off a shiver of anticipation and do my best to ignore the throb in my lower regions.

I can’t be with Adam. He’s not at all what I need. And he’s going to bolt soon anyway. Once he finishes the repairs and sells his house, he’s gone.