Tangled Up Hearts (5 page)

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Authors: Deborah Hughes

BOOK: Tangled Up Hearts
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Feeling ornery and refusing to rush, Alyssa paused for a moment or two at the foot of the ladder. However impatient her caller was, she was just as annoyed. A couple more rings sounded and she headed for the door. "Note to self, remove doorbell." Then, as she saw the shadow of an arm in the colored window next to the door reaching across to push the button, she added to that note. “Today." In fact, when she opened the door she was ripping that thing right out of the wall. It was like a damned foghorn for cripe sake. Her grandmother had it installed because her hearing had gone bad her last few years. Now she was enjoying heaven with her grandfather, however, Alyssa figured it was time to put the thing to rest.

Her caller abandoned the bell and began pounding on the door.

Alyssa stared in disbelief. Who did that? Decent, considerate people rang a doorbell once or twice. They might follow that with a few firm raps just in case it was broken but that was it. Clearly her caller was not such a person and her mind scrambled to think who it could be. She didn’t get many visitors. Those who did stop by just opened her door and walked in. So it had to be a stranger. A persistent, annoying stranger.

As she pulled open the door, she prayed it wasn’t a determined sales person because she was not in the mood for verbal dickering. And then when she saw who it was, she wished she hadn't put in that prayer request.

“Cole, what are you doing here?” He never came to her house. She liked it that way. Seeing him now, especially after her decision yesterday to stay away from him, put her in a mild state of panic. What was he doing here on her front doorstep looking like he expected her to invite him in? Good God, what was she supposed to say?

“Are you going to stand there with your jaw hanging open and stare at me all morning or are you going to invite me in?” Although Cole’s voice was laced with amusement, his eyes looked edgy, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed, especially if she refused to admit him into her home.

Alyssa’s mouth snapped shut. Annoyance filtered through her but she managed to temper it down. Just. “What do you want, Cole?”

He glanced past her into the hallway. “Are you busy with something?”

“Yes.”

He arched a brow and stared at her in silence. Waiting, no doubt, for further explanation. When none was forthcoming, he gave an annoyed sigh. “I thought we were supposed to be enjoying a truce?”

“A truce does not mean that you must do house visits. What do you want?” She was being waspish and she knew it. She also couldn’t seem to help it. She was far too conscious of the fact she was wearing a pair of shorts that were cut way too high to be worn in public, a t-shirt that didn’t even cover her midriff, and her hair was coming loose from the ponytail she’d hastily put it in earlier. To be dressed like this in mid-May was not typical, especially in New Hampshire, but the attic temperature had sent her back down to raid the clothes she’d packed away for the cold winter months. She hated that Cole was seeing her in such barely-there dishevelment. It was all she could do not to try and fix her hair or fidget with the little bits of clothing she had on.

“I thought I would come by and tell you that my parents are having an engagement party for Trisha and Jack this Friday evening.” When she said nothing and still hadn't stepped aside to allow him entry, he seemed resigned to the fact that she was not going to invite him in and leaned casually against the doorframe. Looking like he was prepared to hang out there for the rest of the morning, he folded his arms and gave her a reproachful frown. “I thought we might work on that truce a little so come Friday we are comfortable with it.”

Alyssa forced herself to relax. So what if Cole saw her wearing skimpy clothes and sporting a rat's nest on her head? She’d been around him in a bathing suit before and that was way skimpier than what she was wearing now. And if he thought her hair a veritable mess, so what, she sure as hell wasn't out to impress him. “You could have called to tell me that. Besides, I’m sure Trish will let me know.”

“True.” He straightened up and slipped his hands into the front pockets of his well-worn jeans, his discomfort becoming more apparent.

Alyssa found it a curious thing to see him this ill at ease. He was always so self-assured and relaxed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Surely it wasn't her making him nervous?

“You ran off so fast yesterday … I thought I’d come by and assure you that I fully intend to maintain the peace.” His blue eyes met hers head on, unwavering and intense.

Alyssa dropped her gaze and hoped that the heat she felt spreading through her was not showing any visible signs. Were her cheeks red? Her eyes bright? God almighty but why did she have to react to him in such a way?

Since she couldn’t continue to stand there and allow his perceptive gaze to peruse her so thoroughly, Alyssa turned and headed for the ladder. “Actually, it’s a good thing you’re here. I could use your help.”

Cole entered the house and shut the door behind him. She heard him pause just for a second before he followed her to the ladder and that's when a jitter of nerves assaulted her. They were alone. Never in twelve years had they ever found themselves in this sort of situation. Wishing she could take back the invitation, Alyssa scrambled up the ladder and that's when she realized her mistake. She should have let him go up first. No doubt he was getting an interesting view from his vantage point.

Her cheeks burning and her backside feeling exposed, Alyssa made quick work of it to step off the ladder onto the attic floor. Hoping the poor lighting hid how flustered she was feeling, she drew in a quick calming breath before turning to see that Cole was nearly to the top of the ladder and that she was standing in the way.

Muttering a sound of apology, she took a hasty step back and because it suddenly seemed like the small space had become even smaller, she started talking to cover her discomfiture. “I thought of the perfect gift for Trisha but I didn’t realize what a chore it was going to be to get to it.”

Why on earth did she invite him up into the crowded, dimly lit, sweltering hot attic? Had she lost her freaking mind? Standing close to him like this, she was realizing with sudden, sharp clarity just how bad of an idea this was. Groaning silently, Alyssa wanted to give herself a whack upside the head. Was it too much to ask that her brain function properly when he was around?

Hoping to keep her frazzled state from his notice, Alyssa turned and gingerly made her way towards the back of the attic where a small window offered a bit more in the way of light. The bulb hanging above the ladder entrance was not strong enough to light the entire interior of the attic and that hadn’t bothered her until now. Cole's presence made the dim lighting, not to mention the isolation and cramped quarters, too intimate a setting for her to be sharing with him.

“So what are you doing exactly?”

Cole, she realized with sudden, heart-lurching unease, was following her a little closer than necessary. Not that he was crowding her or anything but when he was close enough that she could smell his musky cologne, well, he was too close. What did the man wear anyway, some sort of lust inducing spray? Not that she was lusting after him or anything but God he smelled good.

“Gram had this rocking chair that Trisha has always loved. I put it up here with the intention of refurbishing it someday and completely forgot about it until this morning when I was trying to think about what to give them as a wedding gift. Since I don't have much time before the wedding, I need to get it out now so I have the time I need to refurbish it.”

She stepped over the ripped box, kicking some of the clothes out of the way then pointed to the far wall where the rocking chair was hidden by the parts to a huge four-poster bed. “I’ve been trying to rearrange everything in order to get the chair out.” She waved her hand at the clothes strewed about their feet. “I dropped this box when you started jabbing that stupid doorbell.” Her voice was a little high and she worried that he would guess how nervous she was. Above all, she needed him to think she was as cool about all this as the damn cucumbers in her refrigerator.

When he stepped around the clothes and sidled next to her, close enough that their shoulders were touching, her body flooded with heat. That increased her worry that Cole might guess how much he was affecting her and she briefly closed her eyes. Then with a toss of her head, partly in effort to get her hair out of her face and partly as a gesture of pure bravado, she turned to Cole and caught her breath. He was mere inches away and she had to tilt her head back to look up at his face. Although she thought of herself as tall, Cole was several inches taller and she had always hated that fact. She didn't like him having any sort of advantage over her and right now he had all the advantage in the world. Because, though it galled her to admit it, her awareness of him was too acute. Impossibly handsome though he was, his derision and sarcasm had always helped to keep her attraction at bay, but in this dim light he looked more approachable somehow, softer. Sexier. The fact that he still hadn't shaved only added to his appeal. It made him look reckless and approachable, open to anything. She groaned inwardly at that last thought. Oh please, please do not start thinking about the things he might be open to!

Cole scoped out the situation then returned his gaze to hers. They stood staring at each other in silence and Alyssa wondered what was going on in that mind of his. Surely not what was traversing through her own. The kiss they shared consumed her every thought and really, it was the last thing she should be thinking about right now. The very last thing.

As if realizing suddenly that he was staring, Cole looked away and stepped carefully around her, taking care not to make any contact. “First thing to do is get the bed out of the way.”

Glad to be free of his disturbing gaze, Alyssa pointed to some free space she had created on the opposite wall. “You can put them there.”

She watched as he lifted the heavy headboard without much effort then admired the way his black t-shirt stretched over his muscular arms and broad back. The man had strength and a pleasing physique. She'd give him that.

He turned before she had time to look elsewhere and indicated with a brief nod that she was standing in his way. Embarrassed to be caught admiring him, Alyssa stepped aside. Then, because she couldn’t just stand around and stare at him, she grabbed the footboard and tugged it from its resting place against the box spring. It was heavier than she thought and only managed to move it a few inches before he reached around her to help, his chest pressing against her shoulder and sending the breath whooshing from her lungs.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he turned his head to speak close to her ear, his soft baritone sending tingling chills along her neck and across her shoulders. "I'll get that."

Alyssa dropped the footboard and took a hasty step away from him. Adopting what she hoped was a casual, unaffected air, she pushed her hair behind her ear and did what she could to erase the feeling his touch had evoked. It was a wasted effort, however, for he wasn't paying her any attention. A little miffed by that, she grabbed one end of the box spring and waited for him to come back and help move it. "I think you might need help with this one."

He gave a brief nod and lifted the opposite end. "Let me lead it out."

It was tough work maneuvering such a large item around the small space but they finally managed to get it where they wanted it and then they turned to eye the mattress.

"It's going to be harder to move that than the box spring," Cole told her. "Maybe we should just pull it away from the wall enough to get the chair out from behind it."

Alyssa agreed to the plan and gestured for him to go ahead and give it a go. "Hopefully you can pull it far enough back. There isn't much room to work with."

Since they both had to share the limited space, it made for very cramped quarters. Cole pulled the mattress back and Alyssa squeezed behind it to grab at the chair but her foot tangled with a broken lamp shade and when she turned to kick it away, she fell against the mattress causing Cole to let out a loud "oomph" before losing his grip. The mattress started falling to the floor, its momentum too much for either of them to handle. The bottom of it knocked against her legs and her hands went flailing as she lost her footing and pitched forward. Cole managed to catch her just before they both went down in a tangle of arms and legs, landing atop the mattress with Alyssa sprawled above him, her face buried in his shoulder.

Once the shock of it wore off, and that only took but a second or two, Alyssa knew she should move but she did not. She did not move because she could smell his cologne, his shampoo and even his dang body wash, which, she noted with a silent groan, was scented with something quite sinful. Worst of all, though, she could smell him. And it was a terrible thing that she could smell him because his scent lured her in like an irresistible mating call. He had the most delicious smell. She wanted to draw in deep breathes and revel in the experience. Damn it all anyway. Why oh why did he have to smell so amazing? And why did he have to feel so good against her? They fit together perfectly. Snuggling with him would be delightful and arousing. Only he'd never want to do anything like that with her and she needed to get off him … now. And still she did not move. Worse, Cole wasn’t moving either.

Her shirt had ridden up enough that one of his hands lay splayed across her bared back. The other was cupping her hip. His breathing was deep and uneven and sending more thrills through her body. As for the sweltering heat in the attic, it was nothing compared to what their bodies were generating between them. It was a bone-melting heat, a thrill inducing inferno. Sensitive to everything, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was nestled between his legs in a most intimate way. The realization made her ache for more contact and that mortified her to no end. Even so, she wanted to press closer.

Finally she lifted her head and looked at him. His face was dark, his light blue eyes piercing her straight to the soul. They stared at each other, unable to look away, their breaths mingling. And then Alyssa could do nothing to stop the downward motion of her head and the parting of her lips as they connected with his.

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