Hooked on You Read online

  I may be out of practice but I’m pretty sure he was checking out my ass.

  He scrubs the back of his neck and glances away. “Move it. You’re tired,” he says. “You’re starting to drift off again.”

  “You’re kind of bossy.”

  “That’s why they call me the boss,” he says, his voice an octave deeper.

  I climb the stairs, and the old floorboards creak beneath me. “Sam is going to fix the creaks.”

  I shake my head. It’s hard to believe this place runs on the honor system. Only Gram could pull off something like that.

  I step into Gram’s room and breathe in as I feel her presence all around me. If I try hard enough, I can almost smell her comforting scent: warm sunshine and freshly baked bread. Someone ought to turn that into a perfume. I breathe in again. No matter how I felt when I was young, Gram’s scent meant home and always filled me with warmth and love.

  “I have no idea when Gram installed this.” I run my hands over the front of the propane fireplace. “But I’m glad she did.”

  “See this switch here,” Nate says. “This is for the pilot light.” He flicks, but nothing happens, then he flicks it off again. “Once we have the fire going, you can use this switch to turn it on and off. It’s easy. But I don’t think this has been lit for a while.”

  I sit on the bed as he drops to the floor and pulls open a grate. He points to a round button on the bottom panel and spends a few minutes showing me how to turn on the fireplace. When flames appear, he gestures to the switch on the wall. “When you want to turn it off, just flick the switch. The pilot will stay on.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Someone lets loose a whooping holler from downstairs. “I have no equals,” echoes up the staircase.

  “Sounds like Sam won that round.” Nate grins and puts his hands into his pockets. “He’s not the most gracious winner.”

  “How is he at losing?”

  “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

  I laugh. “Yes, but no.” I blow on my knuckles teasingly. What is it about this guy that makes conversation so easy? I usually fumble over my words, come across as awkward and shy. “I don’t like to abuse my powers.”

  A small smile on his face, Nate lingers in the hall and leans against the doorjamb. He crosses one foot over the other, and I use that time to admire six feet of pure testosterone from my perch on the mattress. How is it possible that he’s growing more attractive by the moment?

  “You good, Kira?”

  “Yes, thanks for everything today. I hope I didn’t take you from anything too important tonight?”

  He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but then pulls his hands from his pockets and grips the doorknob. “Sleep well,” he says.

  “You, too.”

  Once he leaves, I pull open the dresser drawer and put my clothes inside. I open the closet, and a little breath leaves my lungs when I find a few of Gram’s house dresses hanging inside. I touch one, bring it to my nose and fight back the tears.

  “I miss you.” Behind me, the fire blazes, and a burst of heat washes over me. I turn toward it, and for a second, I get the sense that she’s letting me know she’s here with me, watching over me. “I’m sorry I have to sell the house.”

  The flames settle and I’m about to close the closet door when I see a big plastic container inside. I smile, knowing exactly what’s in it. I drop to the floor, sit cross-legged, and open the box. I almost laugh out loud when I find a couple of knitted sweaters, which used to be in fashion many years ago and are now back in style. I lift a couple out, and beneath the sweaters, I discover a few pairs of mittens and some hats, or as Gram called them, toques. I tug on a toque and shake my head to make the pom-pom wobble. I haven’t worn pom-poms since I was a kid. I guess I could always cut it off. I climb to my feet and look in the mirror. Or maybe not. Maybe I could rock it. Gram sure would love that.

  Deciding to distribute the toques and mitts tomorrow, I climb into bed, and my thoughts go to Nate. I’ve met many fishermen in my life, and he just seems… I don’t know, different somehow. He has an air of authority about him, a take-charge kind of guy. While I’m curious, I’m here to sell the B&B, not get close to any of her tenants. Heck, earlier today, I was just going to have a meal with him and never set eyes on him again. So much for that plan. Avoiding him now is impossible with us sleeping under the same roof.

  Sleep pulls at me, so I strip off, tug on my oversize T-shirt, and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. But when I flick the light on, something small, something gray, something fast, scurries over my foot.

  “Oh my God!” I let loose a loud shriek. I run from the bathroom, and footsteps pound on the stairs as I jump on my bed, my skin crawling like I have a thousand angry fire ants taking up arms.

  There’s a rap on my door. “Kira, are you okay?” Nate asks from out in the hall.

  “No,” I yell.

  “Can I come in?” he asks, his deep voice sounding steady and reassuring. Exactly what I need right now.

  “Yes.”

  The door swings open, and his head jerks back fast when he sees me standing on Gram’s bed, dressed in the same T-shirt as earlier. His gaze leaves mine, goes to my abandoned black lace bra and matching panties splayed out for all to see—my secret indulgences. He stares for a second, his heated inspection sliding over me, and settling on my mouth. His teeth clench with an audible click, as he looks away.

  I bite my lip to stop myself from blurting something before engaging my brain. Over his shoulder, I can see the other guys and Izzy trying to get a look into my room and see what the commotion is all about.

  “What’s going on?” Nate asks, scrubbing his hand over his face.

  I shuffle on the bed, sit my ass down, and shove my lacy underthings behind me. “A mouse.” I point toward the bathroom.

  He looks over his shoulder. “A mouse,” he says to the others, and I hear them murmur to each other, but no one seems at all surprised, and that works me up even more.

  “I’ll grab a trap,” Cody says, and takes off downstairs as the others all disperse.

  “Yeah, it’s that time of year,” Nate says. “In an old place like this, they tend to find their way in pretty easily.”

  “You mean there are more than one?”

  “Yup. I’d offer you my room and take this one, but I’ve caught a few in there, as well. Still, if you want to switch, I haven’t seen any in there in a while.”

  His offer is sweet, but I’m not going to put him out. He’s done enough for me today as it is. But, my God, I do not like mice or any other small rodents. Or big rodents. I slide off the bed, careful to watch where I step.

  Okay, Kira, you’re a big girl here. Pull yourself together.

  “I think I might have overacted,” I say, feeling a bit foolish as heat warms my face.

  “You should have seen Sam the first time he saw one,” Jason yells out from his room.

  “Fuck off,” Sam says. “It caught me by surprise is all. I’m not afraid of a fucking mouse.”

  Nate mouths the words, “He is.”

  “Is that why Izzy had to remove the trap after we caught it in your room,” Jason goads.

  “Don’t make me come in there, Jason. You know full well Izzy likes hunting the mice. I was just helping her out.”

  “He wasn’t,” Nate mouths, then chuckles.

  “Really?” I ask quietly, and he nods. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  I eye him, but there’s nothing in his expression to suggest he’s fibbing.

  “Don’t worry, Kira. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

  Cody comes back up the steps with a trap in his hand. “What me to set it, boss?”

  Nate looks at
me. “Kira?”

  “Yes, please. It was in the bathroom.”

  Cody comes in. “This will just take a second,” he says, and in a very respectable gesture, he puts his hand up to block the sight of me. Warmth moves through me, and I smile. I really like how they’re treating me like a sister.

  “If it goes off in the middle of the night, come get me,” Nate says. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

  I’ll take care of it for you.

  My entire body warms as I imagine all the ways Nate could take care of other things for me.

  “All done,” Cody says, and Nate turns to the side to let him exit the bedroom.

  Nate wraps his fingers around the doorknob. “We’ll get out of your way. Let you get ready for bed.”

  “Thanks.” I take a step toward him to ensure my door is shut tight after he leaves, but as I close the distance, the room vibrates, buzzes with sexual tension, volatile enough to flash the pilot light in my stove without turning on the ignitor. I suck in a fast breath, my chest rising and falling a little quicker than a moment ago. His gaze drops, and I pray to God he can’t see through the thin shirt. But with the way his eyes are darkening, the black bleeding into green as he examines me, I’m pretty sure he can.

  And I’m pretty sure he likes what he sees.

  “Nate. Get the hall light, will you?” Izzy calls out from her room.

  “Looks like everyone is going to bed.” His head lifts to mine, our eyes lock, hold a moment too long. He blinks once, twice, then his expression changes. He backs up, and I grip the door, putting my heated face on the cool wood.

  “Night, Kira.” With that he walks to his room and shuts the door behind him.

  What the hell just happened?

  I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell not going to get any sleep now.

  Chapter Six

  Nate

  I toss restlessly, thinking about Kira. Sweet Kira with that adorable yet sexy blush on her face as she stood inches from me at her door. It took everything in me not to gape, slack-jawed, as I took in all the beautiful, visible skin. Fuck, when she gave that breathy little whisper, all I wanted to do was drag her to me, press my lips to hers, and explore her mouth with my tongue. My cock twitches at the visual, and I almost take it into my hands.

  Treat her like a sister, my ass.

  I want Kira in my bed. I’m not sure what it is—her sweetness, her innocence, or all that sexiness veiled under that oversize T-shirt that I’d love to get my hands and mouth on.

  But am I going to do anything about it?

  Hell no.

  I have work to focus on, and besides that, it’s clear she’s not the kind of girl who indulges in one-night stands—everything about her says white picket fence—and I’m not the kind of guy who can give her more.

  I roll and check the clock to discover that it’s after midnight and I still can’t sleep. Grumbling with sexual frustration, I kick off the blankets and a chill goes through me. The fire downstairs must have gone out. Kira’s room has propane, but the main level is heated by wood.

  I tug on my jeans and pad quietly to my door. I listen for a moment, but the house is asleep. I take the steps, careful to avoid the squeaks, and make my way into the big living room.

  There are only a few embers burning in the fire. I grab a big hardwood log and toss it in. Flames flare and I stand back and cross my arms over my chest. Satisfied the wood has caught, I’m about to head back upstairs when the sound of the old kettle singing stops me.

  Who the hell is up?

  Flames dance on the walls as I head to the kitchen. I poke my head in and see Kira dipping a tea bag into a mug as she examines something in her other hand. The under-counter lighting is on, bathing her in a golden glow, making her look soft and delicate.

  “Couldn’t sleep, either?” I ask quietly, not wanting to startle her. “Mice?”

  She turns, alarmed at first, but smiles when she sees me. She shoves something into the pocket of her pajama pants, something she clearly doesn’t want me to see.

  “Partly, but I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get that mouse, and tomorrow I’ll check the foundation and patch any holes they might be coming in through.”

  “Thank you,” she says.

  I hesitate for a moment. What else does she have on her mind? “I’m here if you want to talk about it, but if you don’t, I’ll leave you alone. I couldn’t sleep, so I tossed another log on the fire. It was cold upstairs.”

  Her eyes go wide. “I’m so sorry. I never thought. I would have done that for you guys. I just didn’t know.”

  I shrug. “No big deal. I wasn’t sleeping.”

  “Things on your mind, too?”

  “Yeah,” I say but don’t elaborate. Dad called when I was walking Bridgette and Ellen back, and he’s breathing down my fucking throat about the cottages. I wish he’d back off and trust that I’ll pay a fair price and I’m not hemorrhaging money on this so-called state of the art plant that I took upon myself to build despite his protests.

  I’m the CEO and I damn well know what I’m doing. In the end, I won’t just be saving money, I’ll be saving the goddamn business, and thousands of jobs. Status quo doesn’t work in a changing world.

  “Tea?” she asks, and I take that as an invitation.

  “Sure.”

  Her hips sway slightly, and as she reaches above her head to grab another mug, it exposes the skin at the small of her back. Her innocent sexuality hits like a double shot of rum, and a fucking moan catches in my throat. Shit.

  “Everything okay?” she asks as she drops a tea bag into the mug.

  “Yeah,” I say. A gust of wind howls outside, and the cedar shingles creak and twist. Where the hell was that noise when I needed it?

  “I always loved that sound,” Kira says. “We had some crazy summer storms. I found them soothing and they always put me to sleep when I was young.”

  “We had a metal roof growing up, and I loved when it rained.”

  “I bet. Milk and sugar?”

  “Milk,” I say and pull open the fridge. “This is my shelf here, but we all share, so feel free to help yourself to anything. Edna gave us a dozen fresh eggs yesterday.”

  “Edna.” Her brow crinkles. “She’s the chicken lady, right?”

  “That’s the one.” I pull out the jug and hand it to her. She splashes a bit in each cup and hands me mine. I take a sip, and she looks around the room, her mood mellow, sentimental.

  “Do you have any thoughts on which realtor I should contact?” she asks.

  “Actually yeah, I know a good one,” I say. I bought my place not long ago and had an excellent one. “I can get you his information.”

  Cup of tea in hand, she blows on the surface and, barefoot, walks slowly into the other room. She stands before the paintings. “Gram was so talented,” she says.

  “She was,” I say, admiring the paintings. I take in the lost look on Kira’s face, and my heart hitches. “You really miss her terribly, don’t you?”

  She sniffs and turns a bit. “I do.” We both go quiet for a long time. The only audible sound is our soft breaths, and the fire crackling in the hearth. “I…I never got closure.”

  That takes me by surprise, considering how close she seems to her Gram. “How come?”

  “Mom didn’t think a service was necessary.” She glances at me and says, “I haven’t even been to the graveyard yet.” She shakes her head and gives a humorless laugh. “I don’t even know why I just told you that.”

  “It’s late, you’re exhausted, and being here again is taking more of a toll than you realize. You needed someone to talk to, and I happened to be here.”

  She nods and goes quiet again.

  I touch one of the picture frames. “What are you going to do with them all?” I as
k.

  “I wish I could take them, but I live in a small one bedroom, and it would be a fortune to have them shipped. I’m going to donate them to the town’s art gallery,” she says.

  “There’s enough of them around here.” I’ve never seen so many galleries in one place before.

  “I want these to be enjoyed. Gram would like that.”

  The fire flares and lights up the specks in her eyes. I grab another piece of wood, open the grate, and toss it on.

  “What about you guys, though?” she asks, a frown on her face. “Where will you go?”

  There is genuine concern in her eyes as she blinks at me. “Lobster season ends the last day of November. Do you think you’ll sell this place before everyone moves on to the next location?”

  Her eyes light. “I never thought of that.” She smiles and nods. “It’s possible that I won’t be putting anyone out. This season, anyway.” She swallows and the sound carries. “I hate that mom wants to sell it. I mean, I know I don’t get back often, but it’s obviously not what Gram wanted.”

  My gut tightens at the sadness in her tone. Fuck, maybe I should buy it, keep it in the family for her. Wait, what the hell am I saying? I’m not about to own or run a B&B. As soon as the plant is done, I’m out of here, on to the next operation. She’ll likely do the same. Someone will offer her the right price, and she’ll pocket the money and put the town in her rearview mirror. When push comes to shove people take care of themselves first.

  “Your Gram will live on in the local art galleries,” I say.

  She turns to me and smiles, and the warmth and sweetness behind it washes over me, seeps under my skin. The fire lights her body as she steps up to it and takes a sip of tea.

  It’s all I can do not to lean into her, taste those damp lips. Would she taste like cupcakes? I can only fucking imagine that she would.

  “Since I’m up, I think I’ll go to my study, do a little bit of work.”