Читать книгу Bedroom Secrets - Michelle Celmer, Michelle Celmer - Страница 9

Brad Pitt, eat your heart out, Tina thought as she tried her best not to stare. They sure knew how to grow them in Chapel, Michigan. For some reason she’d been expecting someone older. Someone not so strikingly handsome or built to complete physical perfection.

Someone who wouldn’t look at her as if…she was a leper.

He retreated a step and waved away her extended hand. “We don’t stand on formality here,” he said.

Oookay.

She let her arm fall to her side. Not quite sure what to do with her hands, she clasped them behind her back. She’d never gone on a job interview before and wasn’t sure of the proper etiquette. Since the time she was old enough to have a real job, she’d been taking care of Aunt Louise. Her people skills were a tad rusty.

“Is the position still open?” she asked.

“Yes, but uh, the pay is pretty low.”

It couldn’t be any lower than the nothing she was currently earning. “That’s okay.”

“I mean really low, like minimum wage.”

“Minimum wage works for me.”

He frowned, his blond brow dipping low over his eyes. “It’s really lousy work.”

She tried to keep her voice cheerful when inside her heart was plummeting. Mae had made this sound like a sure thing. If she didn’t get this job, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Where she would go. She had no place to stay, no place to sleep. “I like to clean. And I have a lot of experience,” she added.

“A pretty girl like you? Wouldn’t you be happier as a model or something?”

A model? Was he kidding? At five foot two and 111 pounds, she wasn’t exactly runway material. “Mr. Douglas—”

“Ty,” he said, then winced, as though revealing his name had been some sort of fatal error. “Everyone around here calls me Ty.”

“Ty, I’m a hard worker.”

“I’m sure you are, Miss…?”

“Where I’m from, people call me Tina.”

“I don’t doubt that you are, Tina. I’m just not sure it would be a very good idea.”

He wasn’t going to hire her. She could tell by the look on his face. He was going to tell her no.

In the back of her mind she could hear the window again, but this time it was slamming shut. All she could do now was stick her fingers in the way and hope they weren’t lobbed off.

She took a deep breath, gathering all her courage, but still her voice shook when she spoke. “I really need this job. I’m desperate.”

“I understand.” He shrugged sympathetically. “I wish I could help you.”

The last bit of strength she’d been clinging to crumbled away, and the dam on her emotions broke. She was so tired of being lonely and afraid and hungry. She was just plain tired.

And she couldn’t be strong another minute. She crumpled into a chair, dropped her face in her hands and started to cry.

Aw, man, he’d made her cry. Ty looked helplessly around, wondering what he should do now. Seeing her bawling, knowing it was his fault, was even worse than the dizziness and the cold sweats.

Well, maybe not worse, but almost as bad. And it could have been avoided if he wasn’t so selfish. He hated what was happening to him, but he didn’t have a clue how to stop it—to fix it. His original plan—ignore it until it goes away—didn’t seem to be working very well.

And now, not only was he miserable, he was dragging other people down with him.

He grabbed a tissue and leaned over his desk to press it into her hand. “Here.”

She took it, wiped her eyes and nose. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall apart. It’s been a really bad week.”

“I can relate,” he said. More than once in the past three months he’d felt like sitting down and bawling, too.

“Just give me a minute to pull myself together and I’ll be out of your hair.” As she wiped away fresh tears, he realized there was no makeup on her face to smear. No mascara running down her cheeks. Hers was a natural beauty. Her face didn’t get all blotchy and red when she cried either like a lot of women he’d known. She might have looked wholesome had her dark features not been so exotic.

But she was just a kid. He was guessing no more than sixteen or seventeen. And she must have needed the job pretty badly to get this upset. She looked so lost. So…helpless.

Aw, hell.

“Can you start tomorrow morning?”

She looked up at him, lower lip still quivering. “You’ll hire me?”

She had trouble written all over her. But could he help that he was a sucker for a woman in distress? He knew it was a huge mistake. But it wouldn’t be his first, or his last.

Ignore it until it goes away.

Yeah, right.

He jotted an address on a slip of paper and located the correct key from the top drawer of his desk. He handed them both to her. “Everything you need is at the house. Cleaning supplies, vacuum, mop. The painters finished up two days ago, so everything should be dry by now.”

“I’m doing the entire house?”

“Top to bottom. Is that a problem?”

She shook her head. “No. No problem at all.”

“I want to start showing the property to renters as soon as possible, so try to get it done tomorrow if you can. When you’re done, I’ll come inspect it, and if everything looks good, I’ll cut you a check. If it works out, I have a small office building one block over I’ll need done later this week.”

She was actually smiling now. A brilliant smile that lit her whole face and warmed him from the outside in. He liked too much that he could make her that happy so easily. It shouldn’t have mattered how she felt.

At least he seemed to be over his initial anxiety. As long as he didn’t get too close to her he should be okay. But man, she was pretty. And vulnerable.

What the hell was he doing?

“Thank you Mr.—I mean, Ty. Thank you so much for giving me a chance. You won’t be sorry.”

He almost laughed. He was sorry already.

Tina gazed up at the brick bungalow that matched the address on the slip of paper Ty had given her. It had taken her a long time to find it in the unfamiliar city. So long it was already growing dark. Icy wind whipped around her, penetrating her denim pants and thin nylon jacket and sending leaves scurrying down the street. She was cold and exhausted and ached for a restful night of sleep. And a hot shower would be heaven. She hadn’t showered in days, only cleaned herself up as best as a person could in a bus station restroom. Which wasn’t all that great. Her skin felt grimy and her hair dirty and her scalp was itching like crazy.

She couldn’t believe what she was considering doing.

It wasn’t exactly breaking and entering, because she had a key. And it would be for only one night. Tomorrow she would have money for a motel. And a meal. And, of course, she would go back to the diner and pay Mae. If it wasn’t for the kind old woman, Tina wouldn’t have a place to sleep tonight. Or food in her belly.

And Tyler, well, she hadn’t quite figured him out yet. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was afraid of her. Which didn’t make any sense at all. A man so physically beautiful couldn’t possibly be insecure. Everything about him screamed all-American hero.

Lord knows, he was her hero.

And how would he feel if he knew she was seriously thinking about crashing in his rental house? She would be violating his trust.

Well, not exactly, because technically he never said she couldn’t sleep here tonight. And what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Right? This way, she could get an early start on the cleaning and have it done in plenty of time. Then he would be more likely to give her another building to clean.

She had to make up her mind soon, or people would start to notice her standing there and get suspicious.

Sleep on the street in a box somewhere in the freezing cold, or in a warm house? Wow. That was a tough one. She took the key from her pocket and started up the cement walk to the front door.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she’d slipped the key into the lock, turned the knob, opened the door and stepped inside.

The room smelled of latex paint and new carpet and the air was chilly. With the blinds closed, it was dark, so she felt along the wall where she thought the light switches might be until she found one. She blinked against the sudden bright light and looked around. Beige walls, beige carpet. Small, but cute. It was so clean, she wondered what it was she was expected to do. But when she looked more closely she noticed the blinds were coated with a thick layer of greasy dust. She suspected the windows could use a good polishing.

No problem.

An archway to the right led into a tiny kitchen and nook. In the corner sat all the supplies she would need. Cleaning solvents, buckets, rolls of paper towels and scrub brushes.

The floor in here definitely needed a thorough scrubbing and a coat of wax. The stove was crusted with baked-on food and grease. She pulled the fridge open and the rank odor seeping out nearly singed the skin off her face. Eew!

She slammed the door shut. That would need a major disinfecting and some serious airing-out.

Her bladder full to bursting, she decided her next stop would be the bathroom. She found it down the hall, next to two small bedrooms. Thank goodness, someone had left toilet paper on the roll and a bar of soap by the sink. But the room reeked of mildew. She pulled back the shower curtain and immediately realized why. Halfway up the tile wall the grout was black with it. She definitely had her work cut out for her. But she hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Ty she liked cleaning. As cooking and caring for her aunt had, it gave her tremendous satisfaction.

Her cousin Ray had wanted her to take care of him, too. In an altogether different way, she thought with a shudder of disgust. She wondered how long he’d spent sprawled and unconscious on the kitchen floor. And what his reaction had been when he’d realized she was gone. The memory of his meaty hands groping her, his rank breath on her face, turned her stomach.

That was all behind her now. She would find her father and start a new life somewhere. Maybe right here in Chapel.

She found the thermostat and cranked the heat up to a balmy seventy-five degrees. By the time she finished showering it was warm enough in the house to walk around in only a T-shirt. She threw what few clothes she had in the washing machine in the basement and settled into one of the bedrooms. She shut the light off and, using her backpack as a pillow, stretched out on the carpet. Her entire body sighed with fatigue. She couldn’t have lain there for more than five minutes before she was sound asleep.

Until she heard something.

She bolted upright, heart pounding, disoriented in the dark. She wasn’t even sure what had woken her, but she knew something wasn’t right. After years of caring for her elderly aunt, she’d trained herself to sleep lightly, to wake at the slightest hint of trouble, the faintest sound. She groped for the watch hooked on her backpack and lit the tiny face. Almost midnight. Then she heard it again. Footsteps.

Someone was in the house.

For a second she was frozen with fear, then instinct snapped in and she scrambled up, grabbed her backpack and headed for the closet. She pulled the door closed and it shut with a loud snap. She cursed silently, hoping the intruder hadn’t heard. It wouldn’t take them long to realize the house was empty and there was nothing to steal. Unless stealing wasn’t what they had in mind. Maybe someone had seen her enter earlier and knew she was here alone and defenseless. Had she even locked the door before she’d fallen asleep?

Heart sinking, hands trembling, she dug through the pack for her pepper spray. She closed her fingers around the small canister and flattened herself against the back wall. Through the cracks around the door, she could see the light come on and her heart seized, then restarted triple-time. She stood frozen with fear, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. The footsteps were closer, and a shadow fell over the door, then the door swung open—

Tina closed her eyes tight and shoved her finger down on the trigger, letting the pepper spray rip.

“Son of a—!”

Uh-oh. She recognized that voice.

She opened her eyes and the pepper spray dropped from her hand.

Spitting out a stream of curses, Tyler Douglas stood in the middle of the room wrestling a black leather jacket off his arms. He flung it to the carpet and clawed at his shirt. Buttons flew in all directions as he ripped it open and tore it off. The skin underneath was beet-red. That’s when she realized she must have sprayed him not in the face, but in the chest. Not surprising, considering he was at least a foot taller than her and she’d never thought to aim up.

“Damn, that burns,” he groaned.

She could see he was in agony, and snapped out of her shocked state when she saw him lifting his hands to his eyes. “Don’t touch your face! It’s pepper spray.”

“Pepper spray? What the hell—”

“The bathroom,” she said, leaping from the closet and grabbing his arm. “We have to wash it off you!”

She dragged him down the hall to the bathroom. Flinging back the shower curtain, she turned the cold water on full-blast and shoved him under it—clothes and all.

Ty gasped as the icy water nailed him in the chest, but at least it eased the burning sensation on his skin and the constricting ache in his lungs. His eyes were beginning to burn so he stuck his face under, too, filling his mouth with water and spitting it back out. He’d never been sprayed before, but he knew the logical thing to do was to wash as much of it off as possible.

When he looked out at Tina, she was staring at her hands, eyes wide, the color leached from her face. “It burns.”

Aw, hell. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the tub with him. When the first blast of cold water hit her she squealed and tried to break free, but he held on. He hugged her against his chest, tucking her head snugly under his chin. “Hold still.”

“Cold,” she gasped.

No kidding. He was soaked to the bone and shivering, but it sure as hell beat that agonizing burn. If he wasn’t so concerned about her welfare, he’d be ripping her a new one right now.

She stopped struggling and went very still in his arms. A moment later she said softly, “I feel better. You think maybe you could, um, let me go now?”

He looked down and realized his hand was cupped over her generous left breast. He abruptly let go and backed away from her. How in the hell had he gone from not being able to be in the same room with Tina, to groping her in the shower?

Excruciating pain maybe?

She bent over and shut the water off, then turned to face him. Her dark hair hung in damp ringlets around her face. Her T-shirt was dripping and hung heavy against her full breasts, outlining everything down to the finest detail, and considering the frigid water temperature, there was a lot of detail. And hey, she wasn’t wearing pants. Could this get any better?

At least she was wearing panties—skimpy pink panties with what looked like kittens on them. Jesus.

She looked damned appealing standing there. So why wasn’t his heart racing? Why wasn’t he sweating and short of breath?

Because he was blood-boiling, spitting mad, he realized. Despite the fact that he had a near-naked, soaking-wet, sexy-as-hell woman less than three feet away, this was the least arousing situation he’d been in his whole damned life.

Hallelujah, he was cured.

“I am so sorry,” she said, her lower lip trembling. It could have been from the cold, or fear. Frankly he didn’t care which.

He wiped away the water that was leaking off his hair and dripping into his eyes. “Is that so?”

“I can explain everything.”

“Good. Explain to me what the hell you’re doing in my house.”