with a loaded hose.”
“I wasn’t sneaking anywhere. I was walking.” He shoved the dripping hair out of his face. “Let me see that hose.”
“Absolutely not. It was an accident. What you’d do with it would be deliberate. If you wait here I’ll get you a towel.”
“I don’t want a towel. I want some damn coffee, which was why I was walking—like a normal person—from the job site there, to the kitchen there.”
“I’ll get you coffee, and a towel.” Wary, she gave him a wide berth—turned off the hose at the source—then dashed inside.
She giggled, snickered, chuckled her way to the laundry room, grabbed a towel from the shelf, hurried back to the kitchen to pour coffee into a go-cup. Added the two sugars she knew he used, fit on the top.
She put a chocolate chip muffin in a napkin to sweeten the deal, and dug out a dog biscuit from her supply.
She dashed back through The Lobby, but paused to look out, make certain he wasn’t armed. She had a brother, knew how it worked.
Composed, with her features in contrite lines, she stepped out.
And tried not to notice the man looked damn good wet.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, you said.” Still watching her, he took the towel, scrubbed it roughly over his dark, wet, unruly hair.
Because she wanted, badly, to laugh again, she pumped a little more contrite into her voice. “I brought you a muffin.”
He eyed it, the towel slung over his shoulder. “What kind of muffin?”
“Chocolate chip.”
“Okay.” He took it, and the coffee while she gave the dog his treat. “Is there a reason you’re watering that stuff, and me, at seven thirty in the morning?”
“It hasn’t rained in a few days, and I have guests so I need to start breakfast soon. They’re family, and they were up late, so they’ll sleep in a bit. I had some time, so—” She broke off, wondering why she felt compelled to explain everything. “Is there a reason you’re coming here for coffee at seven thirty in the morning?”
“I forgot Owen wasn’t coming in till later. He gets the coffee. I figured Carolee was dealing with the kitchen stuff. I need her key so I can get into her place and check her kitchen sink. It’s not draining right.”
She couldn’t claim he wasn’t a good nephew—or son, or brother. “She’ll be here by eight. You can wait if you want. I could . . . throw your clothes in the dryer.”
“Your female guests wouldn’t have a problem with a naked man hanging around?”
With this group? she thought. Probably not. “They might consider it a nice perk, but no one’s in M&P. You could wait in there.”
Naked, she thought. Surly and naked and built.
Oh, the desert was so damn dry.
“I haven’t got time to wait around. I’ve got work.” He took an enormous bite of muffin. “Not bad.” D.A.’s tail thumped. He fielded the piece Ryder broke off and tossed without moving anything but his head.
“Thank you very much.”
He studied her over the next bite. “Any more trouble with the lights?”
“No. But I had a couple in two nights ago. He proposed to her in T&O. They thanked me for scattering rose petals over their bed. I didn’t.”
She glanced toward the inn. “It was a nice touch. I wish I had thought of it.”
“I guess you’ve got an assistant.”
“I guess I do. Is it a problem if I go by Avery’s new place later, see how it’s looking?”
He kept his eyes on her face—a long, steady stare—then shielded them with his sunglasses. “Why would it be a problem?”
“All right.” Out of pique, she supposed, she denied herself that little pleasure. And had no one to blame but herself. “If you’re done with the towel . . .”
“Yeah.” He passed it to her. “Thanks for the coffee. And the shower.”
Unsure, she manfully swallowed the laugh. “You’re welcome.”
He walked off. D.A. gave her his happy doggy grin before he trotted after his master.
“Who was that?”
The voice from above made Hope jolt again. She
“I wasn’t sneaking anywhere. I was walking.” He shoved the dripping hair out of his face. “Let me see that hose.”
“Absolutely not. It was an accident. What you’d do with it would be deliberate. If you wait here I’ll get you a towel.”
“I don’t want a towel. I want some damn coffee, which was why I was walking—like a normal person—from the job site there, to the kitchen there.”
“I’ll get you coffee, and a towel.” Wary, she gave him a wide berth—turned off the hose at the source—then dashed inside.
She giggled, snickered, chuckled her way to the laundry room, grabbed a towel from the shelf, hurried back to the kitchen to pour coffee into a go-cup. Added the two sugars she knew he used, fit on the top.
She put a chocolate chip muffin in a napkin to sweeten the deal, and dug out a dog biscuit from her supply.
She dashed back through The Lobby, but paused to look out, make certain he wasn’t armed. She had a brother, knew how it worked.
Composed, with her features in contrite lines, she stepped out.
And tried not to notice the man looked damn good wet.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, you said.” Still watching her, he took the towel, scrubbed it roughly over his dark, wet, unruly hair.
Because she wanted, badly, to laugh again, she pumped a little more contrite into her voice. “I brought you a muffin.”
He eyed it, the towel slung over his shoulder. “What kind of muffin?”
“Chocolate chip.”
“Okay.” He took it, and the coffee while she gave the dog his treat. “Is there a reason you’re watering that stuff, and me, at seven thirty in the morning?”
“It hasn’t rained in a few days, and I have guests so I need to start breakfast soon. They’re family, and they were up late, so they’ll sleep in a bit. I had some time, so—” She broke off, wondering why she felt compelled to explain everything. “Is there a reason you’re coming here for coffee at seven thirty in the morning?”
“I forgot Owen wasn’t coming in till later. He gets the coffee. I figured Carolee was dealing with the kitchen stuff. I need her key so I can get into her place and check her kitchen sink. It’s not draining right.”
She couldn’t claim he wasn’t a good nephew—or son, or brother. “She’ll be here by eight. You can wait if you want. I could . . . throw your clothes in the dryer.”
“Your female guests wouldn’t have a problem with a naked man hanging around?”
With this group? she thought. Probably not. “They might consider it a nice perk, but no one’s in M&P. You could wait in there.”
Naked, she thought. Surly and naked and built.
Oh, the desert was so damn dry.
“I haven’t got time to wait around. I’ve got work.” He took an enormous bite of muffin. “Not bad.” D.A.’s tail thumped. He fielded the piece Ryder broke off and tossed without moving anything but his head.
“Thank you very much.”
He studied her over the next bite. “Any more trouble with the lights?”
“No. But I had a couple in two nights ago. He proposed to her in T&O. They thanked me for scattering rose petals over their bed. I didn’t.”
She glanced toward the inn. “It was a nice touch. I wish I had thought of it.”
“I guess you’ve got an assistant.”
“I guess I do. Is it a problem if I go by Avery’s new place later, see how it’s looking?”
He kept his eyes on her face—a long, steady stare—then shielded them with his sunglasses. “Why would it be a problem?”
“All right.” Out of pique, she supposed, she denied herself that little pleasure. And had no one to blame but herself. “If you’re done with the towel . . .”
“Yeah.” He passed it to her. “Thanks for the coffee. And the shower.”
Unsure, she manfully swallowed the laugh. “You’re welcome.”
He walked off. D.A. gave her his happy doggy grin before he trotted after his master.
“Who was that?”
The voice from above made Hope jolt again. She
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