Not Just Friends. Kate Hoffmann
Читать онлайн книгу.
been mutual. Adam had found her smart and funny and guileless. Too bad she’d never given him the time of day.
In truth, he suspected that Julia disapproved of his reputation with the ladies. She was the one girl in camp that he’d never been able to charm—and here she was, all grown up, incredibly sexy and sleeping in his bed.
“So, how have you been, Jules?”
She blinked, as if startled by his inquiry. Hell, it wasn’t his best attempt at an opening line. But what else was he supposed to say to the girl he used to fantasize about? Adam stretched across the bed and held out his hand to help her up.
Ignoring his hand, she scrambled to her feet, then sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled the sheet up around her, her gaze still fixed on him. “I’m fine,” she said.
He nodded. Well, this was awkward. He felt compelled to smooth things over before he excused himself to find another place to sleep. “I just assumed that they’d left the light on for me. I didn’t realize you were in the bed or I wouldn’t have …”
Her expression finally relaxed and she smiled again, this time with much more warmth. “I’m sorry I hit you. I felt something on my face and I thought it was a bat. I remember them being very partial to this cabin in the past.”
“You have quite a forehand.”
“Actually, it was a backhand. Did I hurt you?” She reached out to touch his temple and the moment she made contact, Adam felt a current race through him. He swallowed hard, then reached up to take her hand, twisting his fingers through hers. “I—I’m sure I’ll recover. I’m sorry I woke you. What time did you get here?”
She stared down at their fingers, still tangled together. “Just after midnight.” She yanked her hand away. “What time is it?”
“Three in the morning.” He frowned. Why had that felt so good? He hadn’t expected such a strong reaction to such an innocent touch. “I was exhausted—until you hit me. Now, I’m wide awake.” Wide awake and looking for any excuse to keep her talking. “And hungry. Are you hungry?”
She tipped her head to the side, regarding him with a mix of confusion and amusement. “I guess I could eat,” she said.
“Breakfast would be good. Are there any all-night diners around here? I could run out and get us something.”
“You’re not in Chicago. I don’t think we’d find an Ashland Grill up here.”
“You know the Ashland Grill? I love that place,” Adam said, grinning.
“It’s not far from my flat.”
“You live in Chicago?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
“I guess I remember Mason mentioning that,” Adam said. “Where?”
“Wicker Park.”
“Lincoln Park,” he said. “Right near the river.” He couldn’t believe they’d been living so close and he hadn’t even known. It made sense. Her family was from the Chicago area. But it was odd that their worlds probably intersected at least a few times a week and yet he’d never thought of her. Why hadn’t he thought of her? What had Julia McKee been doing with her life?
“I have something,” Julia said. She jumped out of bed and ran to the door, her bare feet soft against the rough floor. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my car,” she said.
The screen door slammed and Adam walked over to it, watching her scamper down the hill. Her T-shirt flew up as she ran and he caught sight of bikini panties and the sweet curve of her backside. He imagined the body beneath the shirt, soft and naked, made for his touch.
She stubbed her toe on a tree root and stumbled, cursing loudly in the quiet night. He stepped out of the door, ready to go to her aid, but she continued on, limping the rest of the way.
Adam chuckled to himself. It had been a long time since he’d been so intrigued by a woman. Imagine running into Julia after all these years. Though she’d grown even more beautiful, she was still the nervous, clumsy girl he remembered. And yet, in a single instant, all the old curiosity came back. Julia McKee was a challenge, the kind that he usually found irresistible.
This was going to be a very interesting week.
JULIA’S EYES WATERED as she limped to the car. “Please don’t let him be watching,” she murmured over and over. She was afraid to look back, worried he’d be standing there on the front steps of the cabin, observing her clumsy stumble down the path.
When she reached the car, she realized she’d forgotten her keys. To her relief, she’d left the back door open after removing her bags. Julia crawled over the backseat and reached for the bakery box. If he was hungry, then she’d feed him. “Cinnamon buns,” she murmured, drawing in the scent.
She found the canvas bag that had her coffee supplies in it—her French press, the gourmet coffee they served in the bakery and an electric pot to heat water. She grabbed a few bottles of water and her car mug, then headed back to the cabin, this time careful to avoid the bumps in the trail.
“Don’t mess this up,” she murmured. “Just be cool.”
“Do you need some help?”
She glanced up to find him standing in the middle of the path. God, he was so incredibly sexy. And charming. And funny. And all those crazy feelings that she’d had as a teenager were back again—only much worse … or maybe better. “Take the box,” she said.
“What is all this?”
“Breakfast. You said you wanted something to eat.”
“You carry breakfast around in the back of your car? Just in case you …” He shook his head. “I can’t think of any reason why you’d do that.”
“I’m a pastry chef and Kate asked me to make some things for breakfast. And I have to have my coffee in the morning, so I always travel with my own stuff for that.”
He held the door open for her, then followed her inside. She set her coffee supplies on one of the bunks, then found the single electric plug beneath the mirror on the wall. Julia glanced over at him to find him watching her. “You can open the box. Help yourself.” She filled the pot with bottled water and then plugged it in.
He opened the white container and looked inside. The scent of yeast and cinnamon wafted through the air. “Are these cinnamon rolls? Oh, my God.” He pulled one from the box and took a bite, smearing cream cheese frosting on his upper lip. She caught herself staring, wondering what it would be like to lick it off very, very slowly.
“You made these?” he asked, his mouth full.
“It’s what I do,” she said, trying to keep from leaping for joy. There were times when food—really good food—could be considered a form of foreplay. Right now, she wanted to imagine him experiencing the ultimate pleasure from eating her cinnamon buns. If she was lucky, the other pleasures would come later.
Adam sat down in the center of the big bed, crossing his legs in front of him. “Are you sure we should be eating these? Will Kate be mad?”
“There are croissants and apple tartes in the car. I brought plenty.”
“You should go into business,” he said. “These are really good.”
“I have my own business. I own a pastry shop.”
“I guess I’m in real trouble then,” he said, staring at her in disbelief. “You’re beautiful and you can cook.”
“Bake,” she corrected, feeling a blush warm her cheeks. “I’m really not much of a cook.”
She shouldn’t let herself fall for his charm. Julia knew it was