Mine At Midnight. Jamie Pope
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in her driveway wearing a little white bathing suit cover-up that barely skimmed the top of her thighs. Her hair wasn’t in its normal elegantly chic style, but instead in loose, messy waves. Her face was completely clean of makeup. She was always stunningly beautiful, but that day he saw an edge to her that was probably caused by anger and pain, but it also made her damn sexy. And when he realized that what he was feeling was attraction it was like he was hit in the gut with a two-by-four. This evening was no different. She wore little cotton shorts with anchors on them and a white tank top that was so thin it was nearly see-through.
“Are you sure you’re here on time?”
“Excuse me?” She blinked at him, and for the first time he noticed the color of her eyes. They were lighter than her older brother’s, whose eyes seemed to be so deep brown that they were nearly black. Hers seemed almost golden.
“You said that you were going to burn down my house after I went to sleep. You’re at least six hours early.”
The corner of her mouth ticked up in an almost smile. He was sure she had smiled before, that she couldn’t be the icily cool woman who never displayed any kind of happy emotions. Her family was too warm and loving for her to be that way, but he had never seen her smile. And now that he had seen just a hint of it, he wanted more, the full thing, and he wanted it all directed at him.
“I am actually here about fire,” she said in her soft, nearly husky voice. “As in if you don’t help me right now, I’m afraid my house will burn down.”
“What?” That shook him out of his appraisal of her.
“I have an outlet that’s sparking. And since you’re so up on your fire safety, I figured I would come to you and skip the fire department. I didn’t want to disturb you with all those pesky lights and sirens. I know how noise sensitive you are.”
“You want my help?” He knew it was a dumb question, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she was standing on his porch, looking disturbingly enticing.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Preferably right this moment.”
“Where’s the outlet sparking?”
“In my kitchen.”
“Do you know how to turn off the power to that room?”
“Do you think I know how to turn off the power to that room?” she retorted.
He turned away to get his toolbox. Luckily since he used the entire downstairs of his house as a work space, he didn’t have to go far.
“Sorry. Stupid question. I wouldn’t expect you to know how to do anything with your hands that didn’t require getting your nails done.”
“I can do a lot of good things with my hands. Unfortunately, you’ll never learn what those things are.”
Her words nearly stopped him in his tracks, and a vivid but all-too-brief image of her running her hands down his bare chest flashed in his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about her that way. He didn’t want to be thinking about her that way. She represented a type of woman he couldn’t stand. “If it includes using Google to find your next rich boyfriend, I’m not interested.”
“Forget it.” She sighed and stepped off the porch. “I’ll call the fire department. Let’s just hope a strong gust of wind doesn’t carry one of those errant sparks to your house.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to help you.” He caught her wrist with his free hand just as she turned to walk away, ignoring how incredibly soft her skin was and the tiny little charge he felt when his skin connected with hers. “Besides, if you called the fire department over this, I would never hear the end of it from the guys.”
“It’s not your job to fix electrical problems.”
“No.” He walked ahead of her to her house, trying to shake off the weird feeling that was rolling around within him. He had been in the house many times before the original owner decided to rent it out and move to the retirement community on the island. He knew where the fuse box was, and as he approached the steps he once again found himself surprised that Ava Bradley had picked this house when she could have rented any of the luxurious oceanfront rentals the island had to offer. The last time he had been here it was decorated in a style that he could only describe as old lady chic. There had been a lot of pink and floral print; he could see it had been redecorated.
The first word that came to Derek’s mind was cozy. There were big, overstuffed couches and chairs, little odds and ends that gave the place a touch of elegance. He would have thought she preferred sleek lines and modern furniture that was more artistic than functional. But she was staying in a place that looked more like a home than a rental. He even glimpsed a family photograph on the bookshelf as he walked through.
He looked over his shoulder to see that she was directly behind him. A little mischievous voice in his head told him to stop short, just so she would crash into him, but he didn’t do it.
“You don’t have to follow so close. I’m not going to steal anything. I’m here to help you, remember?”
“I’m not about to let a strange man loose in my house. Especially one who already seems to know his way around it.”
“Stranger? I’ve known your brother for years. I’m the mayor and probably the most well-known person in this town.”
“I didn’t say stranger. I said strange. And, sweetheart, you are the definition of the word.”
He grinned at her. He couldn’t stop himself. Maybe he was a sadist, but her biting remarks did something to him. No one ever spoke to him that way. Every citizen of Hideaway Island was unfailingly polite to him. But she wasn’t. It was...refreshing. “Come here. Let me show you how to shut off the power in case this ever happens again. This house is old—the wiring might need to be completely replaced.”
“Don’t say that,” she groaned. “I don’t want to move out.”
“Let me check first, but even if it comes to that, it won’t take that long, and your brother lives on the island. His house is so large—they probably wouldn’t see you for days.”
“He would make sure he saw me. Since I called off my wedding he’s been so worried about me that he calls me twice a day to make sure I haven’t flung myself off a bridge.”
“From what I saw the day it went down, I’m surprised he didn’t toss that jackass off the bridge.”
“I’m sure he would have, but my sister-in-law has a calming effect on him.”
She couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes, and something tugged in his chest. He didn’t want to feel bad for her, so he turned to the box, opened the door and shut off the power to the kitchen. “Come here.” He pointed to the clearly labeled switches without looking at her to see if she understood. He didn’t want to see any more of her hurt.
“Do you have candles?”
“Yes.”
“Would you mind lighting some in the kitchen?”
“I hope this isn’t your way of setting the mood, because whatever you’re thinking, it’s not going to happen.”
“Do you think every man on the planet wants you, because I can assure you that they don’t,” he said, lying through his teeth. A man would be crazy not to want her. “Which outlet is it?”
“The one closest to the stove.”
He nodded. “Get the candles and meet me in there. I’m going to need the extra light to see.”
“Maybe I should leave the power off and call the property manager in the morning.”
“I’m here. Might as well take a look.”
She walked away to get the candles, and he took a deep breath. It was much harder to breathe when she was in the same space as him.