response.
I ran up the stairs and looked at the man in my bed. He was sound asleep, and from what I could see from the clothes on the floor and the half of him that wasn’t covered by quilt,he was naked. I enjoyed the view for a couple minutes, thinking it would be nice to kiss the back of his neck, his bare shoulder, the small of his back . . . Good grief! Get a grip, Lizzy.
“Hey!” I yelled at him. “Wake up.”
“I’m awake.”
“I’m hungry,” I told him.
“And?”
“And I’m not supposed to be. I’m not carrying the ladybug. Why am I still hungry?”
“Can we discuss this in five or six hours?”
“I’ll weigh two hundred pounds by then. I just caught myself looking for muffin leavings.”
“Honey, anyone would be tempted to do that. They were really good muffins.”
“The cat ate them! They were in the
garbage
!”
“Yeah, that’s a little extreme,” he said. “If you come back to bed, I’ll take your mind off it.”
I mentally ticked off reasons to crawl back into bed. Number one: He was hot and mouth-wateringly handsome. Number two: I was almost certain he was a good person. Number three: He was already naked, so that awkward undressing moment would be cut in half. And here was the big, scary number four: I was possibly enamored. Diesel was fascinating, and hard as I tried to keep things in proper perspective, I found myself increasingly attracted to him. Of course, this morning I’d also felt that way about the muffins in the garbage.
“Returning to bed has some appeal,” I told him, “but I have to go to work. Don’t you want to get up and protect me?”
“No.”
“What if Wulf gets me?”
“Wulf has crazy Steven Hatchet. He doesn’t need you.”
“Yes, but suppose he thinks I’ve got the charm and maybe even the rest of the inherited whatevers?”
“It’s no big deal. He’ll do a strip search, and when he finds out you’re clean, he’ll turn you loose.”
A strangled sound emerged from the back of my throat and my stomach got sick. “Ulk.”
“You’re right,” Diesel said. “It would be more fun if I did the strip search.”
“That’s not what I was thinking!”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I guess it was what
I
was thinking. Give me a minute and I’ll drive you to the bakery.”
I liked riding in Diesel’s SUV. It still had new-car smell, the seats were leather, and everything worked.
“Is this a company car?” I asked him.
“I never thought of it that way, but I guess it is. Gwen had it waiting for me when I got here.”
“Have you ever seen Gwen?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she pretty?”
Diesel smiled. “Do you care?”
“I’m curious.”
“She’s pretty, but she’s not my type,” Diesel said.
“What’s your type?”
“Easy.”
“I guess that leaves me out, too.”
“Yeah. And it’s a real pain in the ass.”
A light rain started to fall, and Diesel switched the wipers on. Even in bright sunlight, New England mostly looks practical. When it rains, it can be downright grim. The outside of the bakery is weathered gray clapboard, with nautical blue shutters, and the hand-painted sign over the door simply says DAZZLE’S . I like the way the building has aged, and that I have a sense of history when I walk through the front door. And I especially like that on a dark, rainy day, the inside light pours out through the two large display windows onto the sidewalk, like a beacon advertising cake and happiness.
Henley’s Hardware is to one side in a structure almost as old as Dazzle’s. The small, bedraggled saltbox on the other side of the bakery has changed hands twice in the short amount of time I’ve been here. The current occupants are trying to make a go of a vintage movie poster shop.
Diesel cruised past Vintage Posters, Dazzle’s, and Henley’s and turned at the corner. At this early hour, the bakery showroom was dark and the front door was locked. Diesel drove down the service alley running
I ran up the stairs and looked at the man in my bed. He was sound asleep, and from what I could see from the clothes on the floor and the half of him that wasn’t covered by quilt,he was naked. I enjoyed the view for a couple minutes, thinking it would be nice to kiss the back of his neck, his bare shoulder, the small of his back . . . Good grief! Get a grip, Lizzy.
“Hey!” I yelled at him. “Wake up.”
“I’m awake.”
“I’m hungry,” I told him.
“And?”
“And I’m not supposed to be. I’m not carrying the ladybug. Why am I still hungry?”
“Can we discuss this in five or six hours?”
“I’ll weigh two hundred pounds by then. I just caught myself looking for muffin leavings.”
“Honey, anyone would be tempted to do that. They were really good muffins.”
“The cat ate them! They were in the
garbage
!”
“Yeah, that’s a little extreme,” he said. “If you come back to bed, I’ll take your mind off it.”
I mentally ticked off reasons to crawl back into bed. Number one: He was hot and mouth-wateringly handsome. Number two: I was almost certain he was a good person. Number three: He was already naked, so that awkward undressing moment would be cut in half. And here was the big, scary number four: I was possibly enamored. Diesel was fascinating, and hard as I tried to keep things in proper perspective, I found myself increasingly attracted to him. Of course, this morning I’d also felt that way about the muffins in the garbage.
“Returning to bed has some appeal,” I told him, “but I have to go to work. Don’t you want to get up and protect me?”
“No.”
“What if Wulf gets me?”
“Wulf has crazy Steven Hatchet. He doesn’t need you.”
“Yes, but suppose he thinks I’ve got the charm and maybe even the rest of the inherited whatevers?”
“It’s no big deal. He’ll do a strip search, and when he finds out you’re clean, he’ll turn you loose.”
A strangled sound emerged from the back of my throat and my stomach got sick. “Ulk.”
“You’re right,” Diesel said. “It would be more fun if I did the strip search.”
“That’s not what I was thinking!”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I guess it was what
I
was thinking. Give me a minute and I’ll drive you to the bakery.”
I liked riding in Diesel’s SUV. It still had new-car smell, the seats were leather, and everything worked.
“Is this a company car?” I asked him.
“I never thought of it that way, but I guess it is. Gwen had it waiting for me when I got here.”
“Have you ever seen Gwen?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she pretty?”
Diesel smiled. “Do you care?”
“I’m curious.”
“She’s pretty, but she’s not my type,” Diesel said.
“What’s your type?”
“Easy.”
“I guess that leaves me out, too.”
“Yeah. And it’s a real pain in the ass.”
A light rain started to fall, and Diesel switched the wipers on. Even in bright sunlight, New England mostly looks practical. When it rains, it can be downright grim. The outside of the bakery is weathered gray clapboard, with nautical blue shutters, and the hand-painted sign over the door simply says DAZZLE’S . I like the way the building has aged, and that I have a sense of history when I walk through the front door. And I especially like that on a dark, rainy day, the inside light pours out through the two large display windows onto the sidewalk, like a beacon advertising cake and happiness.
Henley’s Hardware is to one side in a structure almost as old as Dazzle’s. The small, bedraggled saltbox on the other side of the bakery has changed hands twice in the short amount of time I’ve been here. The current occupants are trying to make a go of a vintage movie poster shop.
Diesel cruised past Vintage Posters, Dazzle’s, and Henley’s and turned at the corner. At this early hour, the bakery showroom was dark and the front door was locked. Diesel drove down the service alley running
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