Honeymoon for One by Chris Keniston Page A

work on the holiday decorations. And..."
    He raised a hand, palm out. "That's okay. I understand. Maybe another time."
    Nodding, she opened the door behind her again. "Yes, thank you. Another time.”
    Before she could change her mind and run to him screaming yes, yes, yes, Michelle scurried back to her desk and buried her head in the latest sales reports. Why did he have to be so damn nice? Couldn't he have stayed icy Lloyd?
    Having read the same page three times, she finally set the file aside and looked for busy work that wouldn't involve coherent thought.
    "I never thought I'd see five o'clock quitting time again." Pam dropped her purse on the corner of Michelle's desk. "You working late?"
    "Not me." Michelle hadn't even noticed the time. She must have been staring at the jumble of dismal numbers longer than she thought. "I'm right behind you.”
    "Want to join Rusty and me for dinner?"
    "Thanks for the invite, but I have to cook dinner for Corrie, and I promised her we'd start working on the Christmas lights.”
    "I really do wish you'd ask one of the guys to help you. The thought of you and Corrie on ladders stringing lights gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
    Michelle had to laugh. Who said heebie-jeebies anymore? "We'll be careful. I promise.”
    "Well. Maybe Rusty and I will drive by after supper, just in case you need some help."
    "Help?" Kirk sauntered up beside Pam and dropped a file on Michelle's desk. "What do you need help with?"
    "No—" she started.
    "Hanging lights on the house. At least the Rat Bastard used to be good for something. If you ask me, some things were just not meant to be women's work, and climbing on ladders to hang lights along a rooftop is one of them.”
    With a huff and a good-bye nod, Pam walked away leaving Michelle up close and personal with the man she most wanted to avoid.
    "Is she right?"
    "Yes and no."
    He raised both dark brows.
    There wasn't anything that she wanted to share about Steven, the Rat Bastard. "Yes, we'll be decorating, but no, even I don't try to hang lights in the cold dark of night." She flashed him her best I'm-faking-comfortable smile.
    "I see." He hesitated long enough for her to worry what he might be thinking, but all he finally said was, "I'll see you on Monday."
    "Monday." She watched him turn to walk back to his office and blew out a relieved breath, resisting the urge to call back, "Not if I see you first.”
     
    ***
     
    Every instinct Kirk had told him to stay the hell away from Michelle Bradford and her sister. The pair was instant family personified. The bill of goods. The trap. And yet, when he stopped for lunch, he found himself ordering spare ribs, shrimp fried rice, moo goo gai pan, sweet and sour chicken, and beef and broccoli. To go.
    Now with enough Chinese food to feed the entire block, Kirk rolled down Michelle's street. No one was in sight, but several large boxes were stacked along the shrubs in the front yard. He parked his car in their driveway and, like the ancient Greeks, approached the front door bearing gifts. Or in this case, food. Though the way to a man's heart was through his stomach was usually applied to men, years of experience had taught him that good food could go a long way with winning over women, too. Was that what he wanted? To win her over?
    Sanity, or terror, had him ready to turn around when Corrie stepped out of the house onto the porch.
    "Hey." The screen door slammed shut behind her. "You come to help with the lights?"
    "If your sister will let me."
    Corrie smiled. "I see Siszilla has struck again.”
    Kirk smothered a laugh. "I didn't say that. But I did bring food."
    Corrie poked her nose into one of the brown bags and sniffed. "Hmm. I say the lights can wait." Relieving him of one of the paper bags, she turned and walked back into the house, shouting for her sister.
    "Run next door and ask Angie if she has—" Michelle stopped short in the hall.
    Wearing a worn-out Moody Blues sweatshirt over a plaid flannel shirt