Читать книгу Desire Collection: January Books 1 – 4 - Maisey Yates, Joss Wood - Страница 12

Three

Being drenched did absolutely nothing to get his mind back on track. Granted, his life in general hadn’t been in the right place since he’d signed up for the Army at eighteen.

How the hell had this simple trail ride turned into Miss Alexa, of the swinging hips and sultry midnight eyes, nestled on his porch swing? Since when did he ever let anyone else take control of his life?

Oh, yeah. Ever since his former fiancée betrayed him with their commanding officer while he was fighting for his country, seeing things no man or woman should ever have to see. Clearly, he hadn’t had control over that situation.

Hayes stepped up onto the porch and leaned against the post. “You might as well come inside,” he told her. “This doesn’t look like it will pass anytime soon, after all.”

She braced her feet to stop the swaying swing. “I’m soaking wet. I don’t need to go in. I’m quite happy swinging and watching the storm. With those dark clouds, I bet it will be a doozy.”

Hayes sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re drenched and I can at least offer dry clothes and put yours in the dryer.”

“Oh, don’t be so cliché,” she told him as she came to her feet. “Wearing your clothes during a storm? Next, you’ll find some way that we need to share body heat by wearing nothing.”

Hayes had actually thought of that, but he wasn’t about to mention it now. She clearly had a low opinion of his intentions.

He forced himself not to stare at the way her jeans and her tank molded to every single dip and flare of her curves. A gorgeous woman with a killer body...it was like fate was seriously testing him. He wasn’t in the mood to be tempted and he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood for games.

“I’m going inside to change, you can come or you can stay out here and be wet. I don’t give a damn.” He crossed to the screen door and jerked on the handle. “And offering you clothes in a storm isn’t cliché. It’s called manners.”

He stepped inside and eased the squeaking screen door shut without slamming it. The old linoleum in the entry hadn’t been replaced in decades, so he wasn’t too concerned about dripping in here.

Hayes headed toward the utility room off the kitchen. There was laundry in there he needed to put away, so he knew he’d find something for himself and he could throw his things in the dryer.

The loud bang behind him had Hayes crouched down in an instant, his hands coming up to shield his head. But within two seconds he realized he was home, not in battle, and the slam came from the back door.

Slowly rising to his feet, he glanced over his shoulder to find Alexa staring down at him, her eyes wide with worry.

Damn it. He didn’t want pity or empathy. Hell, he didn’t want company, but that wasn’t an option right now. Couldn’t he ever fight these demons alone without witnesses? His brothers knew to keep their distance, and he’d come out of his house when he was having a good day...which happened to be earlier today, but now he was ready for privacy.

His heart still beat rapidly in his chest, he continued to stare at Alexa, silently daring her to apologize.

“I—I didn’t know that would trigger something,” she murmured. “What can I do?”

Clenching his fists at his sides, he willed his mind to chill out and stay focused on the fact that he was safe here on Pebblebrook.

Well, as safe as he could be with a soaking wet woman standing in his kitchen. She’d asked what she could do. That in and of itself was rather amazing.

He was so tired of everyone asking if he was okay. Hell no, he wasn’t okay. Jumping at a door was not normal. Flipping out at the roll of thunder was damn embarrassing. He never knew what would set him off until it happened, so there was no way to prepare.

Well, except the screen door. He’d let it go once and it had slammed at his back and he’d flattened himself on the floor for several minutes before he came back to reality. He’d only made that mistake once, but he hadn’t thought it would be an issue again because it wasn’t like he had regular visitors.

“You want a change of clothes or not?” Hayes asked, ignoring her question.

He tugged at the hem of his soaked shirt and peeled it up and over his head. Clutching the wet material in his hand, he turned his attention back to Alexa.

Her eyes were fixed on his chest, no doubt zeroing in on the scars. Definitely not a story he wanted to get in to, but he wasn’t ashamed of fighting for his country. He was only ashamed he’d been fool enough not to see the betrayal going on behind his back. But even that pain paled in comparison to the horrific scene in that tiny village where he’d been able to save the women and children, but not his brothers-in-arms.

“If you have a spare shirt, that would be great,” she finally told him.

“What about your jeans?” He knew his were irritating him already.

“I don’t wear your size.”

Her instant sarcasm had him almost ready to crack a smile. Snarky comments were a staple in the lives of the Elliott brothers, so it was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t coddling him. She’d asked what she could do to help, and not pushing the issue was going a long way.

“I’m a foot taller than you,” he agreed. “But I’m sure I have sweats that you could fold up while you’re waiting on your jeans to dry. Your call.”

She propped her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Do I get privacy or are we both changing in the middle of your kitchen?”

“Are you always so blunt?”

She shrugged, dropping her hands to her sides. “You bring out my sunny side.”

Hayes shook his head and moved into the laundry room. He quickly found a gray T-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants. Clutching the clothes, he came back into the kitchen.

“There’s a half bath right through there,” he said, pointing to the hallway that led to the front of the house. “You can change and bring me your wet things after.”

As she stepped forward and closed the space between them, he couldn’t ignore the stir of arousal. Why? Really, why did he have to be attracted to someone? One would think after what he’d been through he would be immune to women, but apparently that was not the case.

Maybe it was that initial vulnerability he’d seen in her at the stables. Perhaps it was all of that silken raven hair. Or maybe it was how she was clearly a strong woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

Regardless, the sooner this storm passed, the sooner he could get her back where she belonged. Between his jumpiness and the unwanted attraction, this was going to be a hell of a storm...both inside and out.

* * *

The bathroom was just as dated and neglected as the kitchen. Which was rather surprising, considering the Elliotts had more money than she’d ever see in a lifetime.

But finances were the least of her concerns right now. For one thing, the shirt smelled amazing. So amazing, in fact, that she might have taken her time in sliding it down over her face so she could inhale that woodsy, masculine scent.

Her other concern was really the reason she hadn’t stepped from the bathroom just yet. Where was she supposed to put her bra? It was soaked, so she wasn’t going to keep it on. But it wasn’t like she wanted to walk out and hand him her pink lacy demi. She’d only met the man a few hours ago. Him handling her unmentionables seemed a bit too intimate.

Grabbing her wet jeans, socks and tank, she wrapped the bra inside the wad of clothes and stepped barefoot from the bathroom.

Thankfully, her phone was okay. No messages from Sadie, so Alexa would check in later. She’d only been gone a few hours, so checking in now would seem overbearing...though she probably would’ve already done so had this little predicament with Hayes not presented itself.

Hayes stood in the kitchen with his back to her, the coffeepot in the corner brewing to life. The sight of that broad back had her clutching her wet clothes and willing herself to calm down. He was just a man. A really sexy, intriguing, frustrating man who’d stared at her lips and stripped his shirt off in front of her.

“Can I throw these in?” she asked.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flared slightly when he raked his gaze over her body. Yeah, his 2X shirt was nearly to her knees. Apparently he needed this size to accommodate those muscles, but she was neither muscular nor tall, so she looked utterly ridiculous. But she was dry and that’s what mattered.

“I’ll take them.”

When he started toward her, she shook her head. “I can do it.”

“Have a seat and give me the clothes. I’ve seen women’s underwear before.”

Of course he’d know why she was clutching her things like a lifeline. “Well, you haven’t seen mine.”

Not a smile or a comment from him as he took her things and disappeared into the utility room. Alexa crossed to the coffeepot and nearly groaned at the glorious smell. She glanced at the bag on the counter and didn’t recognize the brand. Probably something she couldn’t just pick up in the corner market. The Elliotts probably had minions to handpick their coffee beans and make a special roast just for them.

She glanced around, surprised she’d missed the French press on the counter. This kitchen had an expensive coffee maker and a French press? Well, he apparently had his priorities in order.

“They should be done in about forty minutes,” he told her as he came back in.

“The rain hasn’t let up,” she commented as she stared out the large window over the sink. “The sky is getting darker, too.”

Not a good sign. Not good at all.

“I drove my truck down to the stables before riding the horses here with you and most everyone else on the ranch is gone for the day,” he muttered, as if wondering how the hell to get her back to the other side of the property in the middle of this storm.

A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. Now she was being mocked by Mother Nature. Apparently there was no good way to get back to a vehicle that could take her to the B and B.

Alexa wrapped her arms around her waist and glanced around the room. This was all so...awkward for her. She had a small town house in Stone River and lived with an infant. But here she was thrust into the country, into an old family home with a sexy man and wearing his clothes, which smelled far too fabulous. Part of her couldn’t help but think back to another man and another T-shirt she used to wear.

But that was a lifetime ago and she was in a whole new world. Everything here was so foreign, yet so familiar. From the masculine scent to the intimacy of the moment to the rush of adrenaline when Hayes had been staring at her lips out in the rain.

“You’re not afraid of storms are you?”

Hayes’s question pulled her from her thoughts. The way he studied her from across the room had her wondering if he always stared with such intensity.

“No, no.”

Silence settled heavy between them and Alexa didn’t know how to keep this situation from getting more uncomfortable.

Smoothing her damp hair away from her face, Alexa met Hayes’s steady stare. “Don’t let me get in your way,” she told him. “I can sit here and drink coffee and you can do...whatever it is that you do.”

He continued to stare, not showing an ounce of emotion. “I don’t do much other than renovate this place when I’m not working on the ranch.”

He worked? Like, manual labor? Alexa knew the Elliotts were well-known ranchers, but she figured they handled the glamorous side of things and hired out all the work.

“Well, point me toward the coffee mugs and I can take it from there. I’ll just wait for the storm to pass.”

Hayes stared another minute, then turned to the cabinet to pull her down a navy mug. He set it on the counter and walked out of the room.

Alexa simply stood there, staring at the now empty hallway. Apparently Hayes wasn’t in the hosting mood. Oh well, she’d told him to go about his business and clearly that’s what he intended to do.

Fine by her. She didn’t want to annoy him any more than she apparently already had.