The Touch by Jaymie Holland Page B

the bedside clock. She was
definitely having a lazy Saturday morning. Already ten-thirty and
she was usually never in bed past six. Last night’s party had
totally worn her out, and the four glasses of wine hadn’t
helped.
    “Henry.” Jett smacked her forehead with the
heel of her palm. She’d forgotten that the repairman was due to
arrive at any time. “Damn.” She tossed her blanket aside and
scrambled out of bed. Her baby doll top slid from where it had
bunched up around her waist, down over the matching silky black
panties. She started toward the bathroom—she needed to get changed
before Henry Johnson arrived.
    The doorbell rang and Jett groaned as she
grabbed her black shortie robe off the hook in the bathroom. So
much for getting dressed. Her black hair was probably a disaster,
her blue eyes bleary-looking, and her skin pale with no makeup.
    What difference did it make? Henry wasn’t
going to care what she looked like. The sixty-year-old man had seen
her over the past couple of years in one state or another when he’d
come to take care of fix-it projects as she needed them. One thing
about having an older house was that there was almost always
something that needed to be done.
    She hurried down the stairs while she tied
the robe’s belt. The champagne carpet was soft beneath her bare
feet as she crossed the room to the front door and then opened
it.
    “Hi, Henry—” she started but then her mouth
dropped open.
    It wasn’t Henry who stood on her porch. Not
at all.
    In his place was a man so good looking that
it made her heart beat faster. In a slow sweep of her gaze she took
him in. A pair of well-worn Levis molded to his powerful thighs, a
snug black T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, and a tool
belt was slung low around his hips.
    He had dark hair that was slightly wavy and
was tall enough that Jett had to look up to meet his dark eyes.
When she did she saw amusement in his gaze.
    Heat flushed her cheeks as she realized she’d
been staring. But what a delicious package he made, and if she
wasn’t mistaken that bulge in his jeans was a good indication he
was having the same reaction she was. She could just imagine what
it would be like to have him in her bed, sliding between her
thighs…
    Jett’s cheeks grew hotter as he studied her,
as if he knew what thoughts were going through her mind. Her
nipples tightened and a thrill skittered low in her abdomen.
    The man’s gaze traveled the length of her
long legs to where her shortie robe brushed her thighs, then moved
up to her slim waist before lingering on her breasts.
    Ok, enough. Jett cleared her throat
and their eyes met. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile so
sexy she almost couldn’t catch her breath. It dawned on her
lust-crazed mind that she had no idea who this man was and why he
was on her doorstep.
    “Can I help you?” Jett managed to get the
words out even as she thought of all kinds of ways she’d love to
help this man.
    “I think I’m here to help you .” He
leaned one forearm against the doorframe and she swallowed hard as
she followed the line of his arm, over every well-defined muscle.
“Are you Jett Sanders?”
    Jett mentally shook herself. “Yes.”
    “I’m Noah Johnson.” He extended his hand.
“Henry broke his leg yesterday afternoon, so I’m here to help
you…with whatever you need.”
    Automatically Jett took Noah’s hand. When she
did she almost gasped out loud at the physical sensation that shot
through her. Whatever I need? Right this way, I have something
in the bedroom that needs looking at…
    She jerked her hand from his and tried to
steady herself. “Is Henry all right?”
    Noah gave a nod. “Dad’s a little banged up,
but he’ll be okay.”
    “I’m glad he’s fine.” Jett took a deep breath
and stepped aside. “Come on in.”
     
    Noah’s gut tightened as he took one more long
look at the beautiful Jett Sanders. Her hair was ruffled and she
looked like she’d just woken up. She was