that she'd skipped breakfast this morning, something she often did when she overslept and had to make a mad dash to arrive at the store on time.
This morning she'd overslept by nearly two hours, and arrived for work thirty minutes late. She'd been unable to go to sleep last night. Her mind had been filled with Mitch. Mitch with the sexy, ice-blue eyes. Mitch with the Viking-warrior body and golden hair. Mitch who had brought to life the sexual urges she'd laid to rest with her husband.
And tonight she was cooking dinner for him. He'd said he'd drop by the store, pick her up, help her shop, then run home for a shower before supper. All morning she'd kept picturing Mitch in the shower, rivulets of warm water caressing his big, hard body. Emily ached with wanting, and that was something she hadn't experienced since Stuart's death.
But what frightened Emily even more than the passion Mitch had brought to life within her was the fear of allowing herself to get too close to this man, to want too much, to build castles in the air. Had she been foolish to offer him friendship, to think that they could settle for a nonsexual relationship? And was she crazy to trust a man she didn't know, to believe in her instincts that told her he wasn't the man harassing her?
Mitch was a man in pain, one who, by his own admission, was being chased by demons. She understood what that felt like, what it meant to be haunted by the past, to live with a heavy weight of sorrow surrounding your heart.
If only she weren't hideously scarred. If only she could go to him beautiful and perfect and unblemished. But she couldn't. Nothing and no one could ever erase the damaged flesh that covered her back. Lord knew that the doctors had tried.
"Food!" Nikki shouted from behind the checkout counter. "I'm starving. Let's eat now while no one's here but the two of us."
"Good idea." Emily dusted off her hands on her smock. "Today was your day to bring lunch, wasn't it?"
"Yes, today was my day." With her bright hazel brown eyes open wide, Nikki gave Emily a what's-up-with-you? look. "Something's going on. You haven't been yourself all morning. Even Mr. Daily noticed in class, and asked me if you were sick or something."
"Just because I wasn't sure if today was your turn to bring lunch or not, you're accusing me of—"
"Hold it right there." Nikki rounded the corner of the counter and headed toward Emily. "I know what it is. I know what it is!"
"You know what what is?" Turning away from her friend, Emily walked toward the back of the store to the rest room.
Nikki followed, and the two women shared the sink to wash their hands. "You've met him, haven't you?"
"Met who?" Emily dried her hands on the soft, seafoam-green towel hanging from the round brass rack on the wall.
"Your neighbor, the golden god." After drying her hands, Nikki grabbed Emily by the shoulders. "Tell Aunt Nikki everything. Did he confess? Is he the man who's been writing you love letters and doing all that heavy breathing over the phone?"
Emily rolled her eyes upward and sighed. "Let's eat lunch." She went out of the bathroom and into the storage room, where a makeshift kitchenette had been put together along the back wall. "What did you bring today?"
"Tuna salad sandwiches, dill pickles and cherry vanilla yogurt for dessert." Nikki opened the compact refrigerator and retrieved the items, one by one, then placed them on the small, wooden table near the lone window in the storage room. "You can change the subject a dozen times, but it won't work. You are going to tell me about meeting him and we both know it."
"Did you make some fresh tea?" Emily asked.
Nikki pulled a large pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. "What's his name? What did he say? Where's he from? What does he do for a living? Did you speak first or did he?"
Emily seated herself and arranged the pink napkins, plastic spoons and paper plates that Nikki had laid on the table. "I wish I'd never told you about
This morning she'd overslept by nearly two hours, and arrived for work thirty minutes late. She'd been unable to go to sleep last night. Her mind had been filled with Mitch. Mitch with the sexy, ice-blue eyes. Mitch with the Viking-warrior body and golden hair. Mitch who had brought to life the sexual urges she'd laid to rest with her husband.
And tonight she was cooking dinner for him. He'd said he'd drop by the store, pick her up, help her shop, then run home for a shower before supper. All morning she'd kept picturing Mitch in the shower, rivulets of warm water caressing his big, hard body. Emily ached with wanting, and that was something she hadn't experienced since Stuart's death.
But what frightened Emily even more than the passion Mitch had brought to life within her was the fear of allowing herself to get too close to this man, to want too much, to build castles in the air. Had she been foolish to offer him friendship, to think that they could settle for a nonsexual relationship? And was she crazy to trust a man she didn't know, to believe in her instincts that told her he wasn't the man harassing her?
Mitch was a man in pain, one who, by his own admission, was being chased by demons. She understood what that felt like, what it meant to be haunted by the past, to live with a heavy weight of sorrow surrounding your heart.
If only she weren't hideously scarred. If only she could go to him beautiful and perfect and unblemished. But she couldn't. Nothing and no one could ever erase the damaged flesh that covered her back. Lord knew that the doctors had tried.
"Food!" Nikki shouted from behind the checkout counter. "I'm starving. Let's eat now while no one's here but the two of us."
"Good idea." Emily dusted off her hands on her smock. "Today was your day to bring lunch, wasn't it?"
"Yes, today was my day." With her bright hazel brown eyes open wide, Nikki gave Emily a what's-up-with-you? look. "Something's going on. You haven't been yourself all morning. Even Mr. Daily noticed in class, and asked me if you were sick or something."
"Just because I wasn't sure if today was your turn to bring lunch or not, you're accusing me of—"
"Hold it right there." Nikki rounded the corner of the counter and headed toward Emily. "I know what it is. I know what it is!"
"You know what what is?" Turning away from her friend, Emily walked toward the back of the store to the rest room.
Nikki followed, and the two women shared the sink to wash their hands. "You've met him, haven't you?"
"Met who?" Emily dried her hands on the soft, seafoam-green towel hanging from the round brass rack on the wall.
"Your neighbor, the golden god." After drying her hands, Nikki grabbed Emily by the shoulders. "Tell Aunt Nikki everything. Did he confess? Is he the man who's been writing you love letters and doing all that heavy breathing over the phone?"
Emily rolled her eyes upward and sighed. "Let's eat lunch." She went out of the bathroom and into the storage room, where a makeshift kitchenette had been put together along the back wall. "What did you bring today?"
"Tuna salad sandwiches, dill pickles and cherry vanilla yogurt for dessert." Nikki opened the compact refrigerator and retrieved the items, one by one, then placed them on the small, wooden table near the lone window in the storage room. "You can change the subject a dozen times, but it won't work. You are going to tell me about meeting him and we both know it."
"Did you make some fresh tea?" Emily asked.
Nikki pulled a large pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. "What's his name? What did he say? Where's he from? What does he do for a living? Did you speak first or did he?"
Emily seated herself and arranged the pink napkins, plastic spoons and paper plates that Nikki had laid on the table. "I wish I'd never told you about
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