Читать книгу In Blackhawk's Bed - Barbara McCauley - Страница 8

Hannah kept a safe distance from Seth for the rest of the evening. Not that she could have gotten close to him even if she’d wanted to. The town’s phone wires had been burning up since Detective Granger had plowed through her fence and rescued Maddie, and there’d been a steady stream of people coming through the house for the past two hours to meet this mystery man. And though Hannah certainly didn’t approve, Maddie and Missy were the belles of the ball, receiving as much attention as Seth, with everyone telling them what brave little girls they were and patting them on the head. The twins were eating it up and had been eager to retell the incident over and over, embellishing the story each time, until it appeared that Seth truly was the man of steel.

The only thing missing was his red cape and a big S on his chest.

While Maddie and Missy sat together on a chair in the living room and told their story one more time to Helen Myers, a waitress at the town’s diner, Hannah stood by the kitchen door and watched Billy Bishop attempt to pump Seth for information. Though he’d been stiffly polite to the people who had come to meet and gawk at a real, live superhero, Seth was having no part of Billy’s questions.

He still sat on the sofa, his leg on display as if it were a war monument, his face looking as if it might crack at any moment. Everyone oohed and ahhed and shook their heads with sympathy while Billy asked Seth what he’d been thinking when he’d so selflessly snatched Maddie from the tree branch. Seth glared at the twenty-three-year-old, spiky-blond-haired reporter, and Hannah doubted that Billy really wanted to know what Seth was obviously thinking at the moment.

Like it or not—and clearly he didn’t—Seth Granger was big news in Ridgewater. Outside of barbed wire and armed guards, Hannah could see no way to keep her neighbors and townspeople away.

At least they’d come prepared, she thought as she looked at her dining-room table. At present count, she’d received three casseroles, a broccoli-bacon salad, two apple pies, a pecan coffee cake and one half-frozen fruitcake. Since Hannah had set out plates, silverware and coffee, the noise level in the room had dropped several decibels while people ate.

“I saw the whole thing,” Hannah heard Mrs. Peterson tell George Fitzer, who’d just arrived on the scene and was filling a plate with macaroni and cheese. “He was amazing. Truly amazing.”

“We should give him a trophy,” Mrs. Hinkle, the town librarian said.

“For heaven’s sake, Mildred.” Mrs. Peterson rolled her eyes. “The man didn’t bowl a perfect game, he saved a child.”

“Well, maybe a medal, then.” Mrs. Hinkle reached for the last piece of coffee cake. “Or a plaque.”

“I know what I’d like to give him.”

Startled, Hannah turned at the sound of the voice behind her, saw the look of appraisal in her best friend’s eyes as she stared at Seth.

“Lori Simpson,” Hannah whispered over her shoulder, “shame on you. You’re a married woman and mother of three.”

“What?” Lori, a pretty redhead with big green eyes, gave Hannah an expression of complete innocence. “I was going to say a coconut cream pie.”

Hannah lifted one brow in doubt.

Lori stared across the room and grinned. “And after I smeared the whipped cream all over his body, I’d slowly lick it all off and—”

“Stop.” Hannah felt her cheeks start to warm. In fact, she felt her entire body start to warm at the image Lori had just given her. “You have a gorgeous husband who adores you. How can you talk like that?”

“Oh, Hannah, I’m kidding.” Lori looked back at Seth. “Sort of. And for heaven’s sake, it’s not as if I’d ever do anything like that. Well, except with John, of course. That man is absolutely amazing in the bedroom. Just last week he—”

“Stop!” Hannah put a hand over Lori’s mouth. The last thing Hannah wanted to hear about right now was her best friend’s bedroom escapades. She didn’t want to hear about anyone’s bedroom activities, for that matter. Since her own sex life was so abysmal, it was better to simply leave that subject alone. “Where’s John?”

“He’s home with the kids. Patrick is working on his one-year molars and Nickie, my little drama queen, had a wart burned off her pinkie today and is walking around as if the doctor had amputated.” Lori watched Elma Thumple walk in with a plate of brownies and snagged one as the woman passed by. “Bless his heart, John offered to stay home so I could come over and meet the man who saved my goddaughter’s life. So give me details. Tell Auntie Lori exactly what happened.”

Lori might not officially be Maddie and Missy’s aunt, Hannah thought, but Lori had been through the worst of everything with Hannah for the three years since her divorce. Hannah didn’t know how she would have made it through everything without Lori’s friendship. As far as Hannah was concerned, Lori was as real a sister to her as if they had shared a mother.

“Maybe later, Lor.” Hannah shook her head, blinked at the sudden moisture in her eyes. “It’s been a long day. A tough one.”

“Oh, honey.” Lori frowned and slipped an arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Knowing this town, I assumed the accounts had been grossly exaggerated when you hadn’t called me yourself.”

“I—I was just so…dazed. And frightened. It all happened so fast.” Darn it, where were these tears coming from? The last thing she needed was to start blubbering in front of all these people. “I’m sorry.”

“Never mind.” Lori hugged her. “We’ll talk later, over a bottle of wine and a box of tissues.”

Hannah had replayed the scene over and over in her mind at least a hundred times in the past three hours: Seth climbing out on that branch while Maddie hung in midair, Seth pulling Maddie up, then handing her over. The crack of the branch and Seth falling. Every single time those images flipped through her brain, Hannah felt her breath catch and her heart stop.

She looked at Seth now, and once again her heart stopped. Only this time, it was because he was looking at her.

And there it was again.

She felt frozen. Absolutely consumed and completely overwhelmed. Helpless to do anything but stare back at him.

She felt the deep, heavy thud of her heart, heard the din of conversation around her, but she simply couldn’t move. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She felt stripped naked, and yet, she just didn’t care.

She knew she’d been unsteady all afternoon. After what had happened, it was understandable that her emotions would be spiralling.

But this was more than that.

This was something much more.

The thought frightened her. She didn’t want to be attracted to this man. At this point in her life, she didn’t want to be attracted to any man.

He held her gaze with his and still she didn’t look away.

He was handsome, of course, though a little rough around the edges. But that only seemed to add to his appeal. The stubble of beard on that strong jaw and square chin, that thick mane of black hair touching those broad shoulders, the faded jeans over his long, muscled legs. He’d changed into a clean T-shirt, also black, and Hannah realized how well the color suited him. Everything about this man was dark and dangerous, and with that bandage over his eye, he bordered on ominous.

He radiated sex. Made her think things she didn’t want to think about, things she’d thought hadn’t mattered to her: a man’s touch, urgent whispers in the dark, sweaty bodies and twisted sheets.

As if he read her thoughts, Seth’s eyes narrowed and grew more intense as he stared at her.

Dear Lord, had she actually asked this man to stay with her? Hannah thought. Here, in this house, where during the day, while the girls were at school, she would be alone with him?

Hannah rarely drank anything alcoholic, but suddenly she was wishing for a glass of that wine Lori had mentioned a moment ago.

“Hannah, sweetheart,” Lori whispered in Hannah’s ear, “you keep staring at Mr. Handsome like that and this room is going to self-combust.”

Hannah quickly looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” Lori smiled and took a bite of brownie. “I guess I just imagined that I’d-like-to-rip-your-clothes-off-and-jump-on-you look in your eyes.”

“Lori Simpson.” Hannah snatched the brownie from her friend’s hand and bit into the rich chocolate. “Do you ever think of anything besides sex?”

Lori thought for a moment.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Hannah shook her head. “It was a foolish question. Never mind.”

Maddie and Missy spotted Lori at that moment and came running over. While they related their terrible ordeal once again, Hannah slipped into the kitchen.

Thankful for the quiet, Hannah set about making a fresh pot of coffee. She just needed a few moments alone, away from all the commotion in her house.

Away from Seth.

I can do this, Hannah told herself as she counted out scoops of coffee into the pot. Everything would be back to normal by the morning. She’d bake muffins for the diner and drop them off on her way to carpool the girls to school, pick up the accounting work she did weekly for Tom Wheeler and do her data entry, then repair the cracks on the walls in the upstairs bedroom. By the time Maddie and Missy came home from school, it would be time for homework, supper, baths and bedtime stories for the girls, then the rest of the evening she could work on the hand-stitching Lyn Gross had hired her to do for her catalog business.

As if she had time to think about handsome strangers and her out-of-whack hormones. Hannah laughed at her own foolishness as she filled the glass carafe with water. Besides, she had a very large house. She’d be working upstairs, Seth would be downstairs. She probably wouldn’t even see him, except in passing. It wasn’t as if he could get around very well, anyway.

She didn’t have the time or the desire to be distracted by Seth Granger. He’d be gone in a few days and her house would be back to normal—not that normal would in any way describe her life, she thought, shaking her head with a smile.

Once she had her bed-and-breakfast open for business, Hannah would have everything she wanted: her own business, security for Maddie and Missy, and once she bought out Aunt Martha’s share of the house, a sense of independence she’d never had before.

There wasn’t anything else she wanted at this point in her life. She’d done just fine without a man for the past three years. In the future, maybe she would meet someone. A man who wanted roots and family and came home at night. Before midnight, without another woman’s perfume on his shirt.

For now, Hannah only needed Maddie and Missy and that was enough. Seth Granger might be an interesting and temporary diversion, Hannah admitted, but that’s all he was: interesting and temporary, with the emphasis on temporary.

While the coffee percolated, Hannah opened the refrigerator to refill the creamer she’d set out on the table. Beside the container of half and half was a can of whipped cream someone had brought to go with a bowl of strawberries.

…I’d like to smear it all over his body and lick it off…

Hannah slammed the refrigerator door shut and forced the image Lori had given her out of her mind. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

Suddenly her house didn’t seem large enough at all, and a few days felt like a very, very long time.

The scent of hot cinnamon roused Seth during the night. Darkness surrounded him and he wasn’t certain where he was, but that wasn’t so unusual. He’d woken up more than once in the dark in a strange place, a strange bed. In his line of work, he was never certain about where he’d be sleeping. A car, a park bench, even an occasional alley, amidst a community of homeless who lived in cardboard structures and tents made out of blankets. Wherever his job took him, he went, and most of the time it seemed as if he spent more time on the streets than in his own apartment.

But the scent of cinnamon and…what else? Apples, that’s what it was. The scent of cinnamon and apples had never woken him before. For several moments, he thought he might be dreaming, maybe having one of the flashbacks he occasionally had from his childhood. Before the accident. Before his life had changed so dramatically.

But he wasn’t dreaming, he realized. The scent was very real, as real as the bed he lay in. A firm, comfortable mattress covered with smooth, soft sheets, feather pillows and a thick, down comforter. He blinked, raised his head and glanced at the bedside clock.

Five in the morning. Not exactly the middle of the night, but not exactly what he’d call morning, either.

Seth blinked again, rolled to his back and felt the pain shoot straight up his leg.

He swore hotly and remembered where he was.

In Ridgewater, Texas.

Home of the world’s largest fruitcake.

Gritting his teeth, Seth slid his legs out from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. When the pain subsided, he flipped on the nightstand lamp and looked around the room. It was a nice room, large, with high ceilings and white chair rails against soft blue-and-white striped walls. The windows were tall with lace curtains, the highly polished hardwood floors dotted with navy blue throw rugs. There was a white-tiled bathroom attached to the room, with a ball-and-claw bathtub and a showerhead that a guest could hold or attach to the wall.

Seth dragged a hand through his hair and stretched, then rolled his shoulders. His neck felt a little stiff and a low throb pounded in his head, but all in all, other than his swollen ankle, which had turned a deep shade of purple, he felt fine.

Well, as fine as he could feel about being stuck in the middle of nowhere for God knew how long.

After last night’s gathering, Seth was counting the minutes until he could leave Ridgewater. He knew he should appreciate that all those people had shown up to meet him, but the fact was, he didn’t. He hadn’t done anything that any other person in his situation wouldn’t have done. He didn’t deserve, and he sure as hell didn’t like, all that attention.

Especially from Billy Bishop, ace reporter for the Ridgewater Gazette.

Billy had been a major pain in the butt. He’d wanted to know every detail of Seth’s life. His work, his past, even his hobbies, for God’s sake. Even if he had a hobby, which he didn’t, who the hell would care what it was? He’d intentionally kept his answers vague and short. The less he gave Billy Bob Bishop, the shorter the article and the quicker this entire incident would fade away.

Careful not to put any pressure on his ankle, he slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of gray sweat pants and the T-shirt he’d worn the night before, then hobbled to the door and followed the seductive scent to the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, surprised to see Hannah standing at the counter, filling muffin tins with thick batter from a large metal bowl. From a big blue clip on top of her head, her long blond curls tumbled down her back like a rippling waterfall. She wore a light-blue robe and pink bunny slippers. He could swear she was humming…

…“Born to be Wild?”

Smiling, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. After she’d shown him to his room last night, she’d laid out fresh towels and soap, apologized for all the commotion, then quickly excused herself. She’d intentionally avoided eye contact with him, even as she was thanking him once again for saving Maddie.

He supposed she’d been nervous about him staying in the house. He was a complete stranger to her, after all, and the only thing she really knew about him, other than his driver’s license statistics, was that he worked for the Albuquerque police department.

But earlier in the evening, when she’d been talking to her friend, Seth had looked at her. And she’d looked back.

Whatever had passed between them—and he still wasn’t certain if he’d imagined it—had been potent.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t experienced lust before. Hell, that was more than familiar territory to him. What hadn’t been familiar had been the intensity of what should have been a simple look, but had been anything but simple. And while it disturbed him on one level, it intrigued him on another.

She intrigued him. A beautiful woman, single mother of mischievous twin girls, soon-to-be proprietor of a bed-and-breakfast. He’d seen the fear in her pale-blue eyes yesterday when he’d handed Maddie to her, but she’d stayed calm and kept her composure when a lot of women would have come unraveled. She’d taken care of him, then graciously opened her house to her neighbors, quietly set out coffee and food and stood back and watched.

Her song changed from Steppenwolf to Ricky Martin’s “Shake Your Bon-Bon.” Seth dropped his gaze to her pretty bottom moving back and forth to the Latin beat, and he felt his gut tighten. Damn. He’d never been a fan of Ricky’s until this moment.

Seth swallowed the dryness in his throat, knew that he should announce his presence rather than standing here leering at the woman. He just couldn’t help himself. The sight of her moving to the song, dressed in that simple bathrobe and bunny slippers should have been humorous, but strangely, he found it sexy. When she gave an extra little twist to her hips, Seth forgot to breathe.

Damn if the woman wasn’t getting him hard.

He supposed the fall might have rattled his brain, but whatever it was, his hormones had jumped to attention and were clanging warning bells. His pulse quickened, and it seemed as if all the blood from his head had taken a trip south.

He remembered the firm press of her body against his yesterday, the smooth feel of her skin under his hands when he’d held her arm on the sofa, the way she’d looked at him last night across the crowded room. No question there was chemistry between them.

The question was, should he act on it?

Strange, but he’d never asked himself that before. If he’d wanted a woman and she’d wanted him, it was simple. If it felt right, Seth had never held back. He went for it and whatever happened, happened.

But Hannah wasn’t simple. Something told him that she was anything but simple. Seth knew he was just passing through this town and this woman’s life. The last thing he should be doing was having thoughts about taking her to bed.

Then she shook her bottom again as she softly sang and Seth felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He knew if he didn’t stop her, he was probably going to do something very foolish.

“Morning.”

She whirled around, a look of sheer shock on her face. She stood there for a moment, eyes wide as she stared at him, then her face flushed bright red.

Because she hadn’t belted her robe, the short, pink cotton nightgown she had on didn’t hide much. At the sight of her high, unfettered breasts, he felt another slam to his gut. His gaze traveled down over her long, shapely legs, and his body flooded with heat.

Even her silly slippers looked sexy to him, an obvious indication he wasn’t thinking clearly. He could picture himself tugging those bunnies off her feet, then sliding his hand up her sleek curves, over her hips and under her simple cotton nightgown, up higher, until his palms were filled with her soft, feminine flesh.

It took a few seconds and a will of iron to wrench his gaze back up to hers. She still hadn’t moved, except that her lips had formed a small O.

When he pushed away from the doorjamb, she instantly went from zero to eighty. She mumbled a good morning as she whipped back around, dropped the batter-filled measuring cup into the bowl, then belted her bathrobe tightly.

“I wasn’t expecting you up this early,” she said over her shoulder, her voice strained and high-pitched. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Oh, she’d wakened him all right. His entire body was awake and alert and ready to go. “Actually, it was those muffins you’re baking.”

He hobbled to the large oak table in the middle of the spacious kitchen. Hannah quickly reached for a towel to wipe her hands.

“You shouldn’t be up on that leg,” she said firmly and rushed to his side to slip an arm around his waist.

“I’m fine, Hannah.”

But he let her help him into the chair, not because he needed help, but because he wanted to indulge himself, if only for a moment. He felt the soft press of her breasts against his side and nearly groaned at the rush of heat through his body. He breathed in the scent of apples and cinnamon on her skin, held on to her longer than was necessary or wise. When she moved away, it was all he could do not to snatch her back and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.