what he needed. “Bingo.” He returned to the table, a smile of pride on his face. “Here’s your coffee maker.” He handed her a large, silver pot.
“What kind of coffee maker is this?” She wrinkled her nose.
“It’s the percolator.” Her confused expression should’ve had him doubled over in laughter, but instead his insides sparked like a welder’s torch.
Her own robe had loosened, and he could see she’d slept in his old Hard Rock Café T-shirt. His vision was drawn immediately to where the shirt stopped high on her thigh. He followed every inch of her long, alluring legs right down to her bare toes which were painted a pale, glossy pink. His heartbeat quickened, and his blood boiled beneath his skin as lustful thoughts ran rampant through his mind.
Last night, she’d been sound asleep when he’d come up to bed. She’d been so close to the edge, he thought for sure she’d roll off. He’d remained a gentleman and stayed on his own side. It had tortured him to lie there and not touch her, but he would do it for her. Of course, if she’d rolled over and wanted to make love he’d have been more than willing. He still couldn’t believe after all these years she could get him worked up like a teenager.
“Sam.” The sound of his name brought his eyes back to hers. “Are you listening to me? I don’t think I know how this thing works.”
“You can figure it out. I’ve got to hit the shower. Big day at work.” He gave her a wink and almost ran out of the kitchen.
Staying wasn’t an option.
“Sam Hackett, you’d better get back here. This isn’t fair. I need some coffee!” she called after him, but no way was he turning around. He felt a little guilty over not putting the percolator on the counter and making coffee for her. He’d have felt a hell of a lot more guilty if he’d put her on the table and made love to her, which he’d been about to do. He desperately needed that shower.
Safely in the bathroom, he heard more slamming and cursing from downstairs while he lathered up at the sink. His foamy reflection smirked as he pictured her trying to figure out the old percolator. That thing hadn’t been used in over ten years, not since they all used to go camping together. He was surprised he’d never thrown it out. Now days he picked up his coffee at the diner on the way into work. He’d never needed the luxury of a coffee maker, until now.
Thinking about her wild cupboard-slamming episode had him laughing in seconds. No doubt she’d be furious if she knew he was poking fun at her. He started the shower so she wouldn’t hear.
As the hot water pelted his skin, his laughter faded. He hadn’t been prepared for this at all. Sure, he’d expected some questions or moments when things didn’t seem quite right to her. There were bound to be some tricky issues and he’d been ready for those, too, but not now, not this soon. Why did it have to be first thing in the morning? He couldn’t even think straight himself, let alone try to answer a question he hadn’t even bargained on to begin with.
“Damn that penthouse and damn that way of life.” He smacked the navy blue tiles of the shower stall with the palm of his hand. He hoped his response would be enough for her. Would she want to visit Jennie? They were best friends, how had that possibility slipped his mind? Taking her into the city would be suicide. He couldn’t chance it, not now. When he shut off the water and grabbed a towel, a disturbing thought crossed his mind.
What other crazy little details would Kate start to remember?
** *
Kate stood fiddling with the percolator when Sam returned to the kitchen fully dressed. He looked handsome in his oxford shirt, jeans, and work boots. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Without thinking, she buttoned the collar of his shirt and fixed his tie. Her nose tingled with the scent of soap and country air, making the blood pulse beneath her skin.
“Mmm, you look great.” She pulled
“What kind of coffee maker is this?” She wrinkled her nose.
“It’s the percolator.” Her confused expression should’ve had him doubled over in laughter, but instead his insides sparked like a welder’s torch.
Her own robe had loosened, and he could see she’d slept in his old Hard Rock Café T-shirt. His vision was drawn immediately to where the shirt stopped high on her thigh. He followed every inch of her long, alluring legs right down to her bare toes which were painted a pale, glossy pink. His heartbeat quickened, and his blood boiled beneath his skin as lustful thoughts ran rampant through his mind.
Last night, she’d been sound asleep when he’d come up to bed. She’d been so close to the edge, he thought for sure she’d roll off. He’d remained a gentleman and stayed on his own side. It had tortured him to lie there and not touch her, but he would do it for her. Of course, if she’d rolled over and wanted to make love he’d have been more than willing. He still couldn’t believe after all these years she could get him worked up like a teenager.
“Sam.” The sound of his name brought his eyes back to hers. “Are you listening to me? I don’t think I know how this thing works.”
“You can figure it out. I’ve got to hit the shower. Big day at work.” He gave her a wink and almost ran out of the kitchen.
Staying wasn’t an option.
“Sam Hackett, you’d better get back here. This isn’t fair. I need some coffee!” she called after him, but no way was he turning around. He felt a little guilty over not putting the percolator on the counter and making coffee for her. He’d have felt a hell of a lot more guilty if he’d put her on the table and made love to her, which he’d been about to do. He desperately needed that shower.
Safely in the bathroom, he heard more slamming and cursing from downstairs while he lathered up at the sink. His foamy reflection smirked as he pictured her trying to figure out the old percolator. That thing hadn’t been used in over ten years, not since they all used to go camping together. He was surprised he’d never thrown it out. Now days he picked up his coffee at the diner on the way into work. He’d never needed the luxury of a coffee maker, until now.
Thinking about her wild cupboard-slamming episode had him laughing in seconds. No doubt she’d be furious if she knew he was poking fun at her. He started the shower so she wouldn’t hear.
As the hot water pelted his skin, his laughter faded. He hadn’t been prepared for this at all. Sure, he’d expected some questions or moments when things didn’t seem quite right to her. There were bound to be some tricky issues and he’d been ready for those, too, but not now, not this soon. Why did it have to be first thing in the morning? He couldn’t even think straight himself, let alone try to answer a question he hadn’t even bargained on to begin with.
“Damn that penthouse and damn that way of life.” He smacked the navy blue tiles of the shower stall with the palm of his hand. He hoped his response would be enough for her. Would she want to visit Jennie? They were best friends, how had that possibility slipped his mind? Taking her into the city would be suicide. He couldn’t chance it, not now. When he shut off the water and grabbed a towel, a disturbing thought crossed his mind.
What other crazy little details would Kate start to remember?
** *
Kate stood fiddling with the percolator when Sam returned to the kitchen fully dressed. He looked handsome in his oxford shirt, jeans, and work boots. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Without thinking, she buttoned the collar of his shirt and fixed his tie. Her nose tingled with the scent of soap and country air, making the blood pulse beneath her skin.
“Mmm, you look great.” She pulled
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