While She Was Sleeping...

He used his key to go through the side door into the kitchen and called her name a few times. No answer. In the bathroom? In the shower? Out on a walk? He grabbed his suitcases from the car and hoisted them up the beautiful dark wood staircase to the second floor and into the room where he’d spent the previous night.

Alana’s bag was still there. Which meant she still claimed the room Melanie said he could have because his large frame was more comfortable in a queen-size bed than one of the twins in the guest room.

More conflict. He’d do the gentlemanly thing and offer to sleep in the guest room, but it made more sense for him not to have to change rooms after she left.

He supposed if he tossed her things across the hall now, she’d pitch a fit that would deafen him.

“Oh. Um. Hi. Sawyer.”

Alana. He spun around, prepared for battle…and found himself reacting to her not as the shrieking shrew, but the way he’d reacted to her asleep in his bed. Her eyes were wide, anxious but not hostile. She looked slightly unsure of herself. Her rich, dark brown hair was damp—yes, she’d been in the shower—and curled gently around her face; he remembered its fragrance. She wore jeans and a clingy peach-colored sweater that reminded him forcefully of what lay underneath.

What was the point of that thought? She wasn’t merely not his type, she was his antitype.

“I, uh…” She looked down at his suitcases. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about living here.”

“Hoped I’d changed my mind?”

“Oh.” She laughed shortly. “No, of course not.”

“Liar.” He winked, thinking maybe he could charm her into not being a pain in his…move-in.

No acknowledgment of his humor. “I guess we got off to a…weird start.”

“I guess we did. Not all bad, though.” This time he managed a we-had-some-serious-fun smile.

Nothing.

She gestured to his suitcases. “You’re still planning to live with Melanie.”

Hadn’t they just settled that? He’d try humor one more time, then he was going to get annoyed. “Oh, no. Those hold my drug, alcohol and condom supply. I’m never without them.”

No response. He sighed. “Yes, I’m still moving in. I need this place.”

“So…” She sent him a direct, challenging stare. She’d make a great middle-school teacher. Or cop. Or judge, jury and executioner. “What happened at your old place? Why can’t you live there anymore?”

He folded his arms across his chest. Nobody expects The Alanish Inquisition. “It got too crowded.”

“Lots of roommates?” He saw the suspicion and disapproval in her eyes. This guy can’t even afford one eighth of an apartment. What a piece of work. She was probably picturing drugs, orgies and animal sacrifices. What in their identical upbringing could cause Melanie to trust too much and Alana not enough? He was more curious than he should be.

“No, it was the kids.” The boy in him who’d found ways to torment his brothers during the years he lacked their strength decided to see how far he could push before she was on to him. “Once you hit four, it gets pretty noisy.”

Her eyes shot open. “You left your children? Four of them?”

“Oh, they’re not mine. I’m living with my brother’s wife. I’m pretty sure the kids are his. Most of them anyway.”

She sputtered. “You…he…she…”

“So when I met Melanie and she had this place available, I jumped at the chance to ditch them all. I needed the quiet.”

“I see.” Her outrage was at full pitch. How could she swallow all this obvious bull, but refuse to acknowledge any truths he told her early this morning? “What…do you do?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Not much of anything these days. Just kind of casting my net around, enjoying a break.”

“Well. That must be…freeing.”

“Yeah, you know, sleeping late, doing whatever I want all day.”

“But you’re able to help my sister with the expenses of living here?” Tight lips, rigid body, frosty, frosty disapproval.

Sawyer would shiver, but he’d heated into truly brilliant creativity. “I can always hit up some of the rich, married women I service if I need cash.”

“You—”

“Alana.” He took a step toward her, hand held up. Enough.

“What?” She spoke through her teeth. “This is ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m kidding about the married women. And my brother Mark was transferred to Germany; he’s there finding his family a house. Maria and the boys needed a place to stay because their place in Menomonee Falls sold sooner than they expected, so I said they could stay with me.”

“For God’s sake.” She lifted her chin. “You made it sound

like—”

“You’d already decided I’m bad news. I was curious how bad. Apparently impressively bad.”

“Melanie said to give you another chance. I was trying.”

“By assuming I’m a jerk?”

“You acted like one.”

“Okay.” He took another step toward her. He wanted to see her eyes, watch her face change. And, yes, he was a man, to enjoy the rest of her up closer. He never got to hold her gorgeous body against him the way he planned when he woke to her a second time. “So can we start over? Without preconceptions?”

“Well. I guess.” Her color rose; she took a step back. “If you’ll stop lying.”

Grrrrr.

“I’ll do my best.” He held out his hand. “I’m Sawyer Kern, Melanie’s roommate.”

Her grip was reluctant. “Alana Hawthorne, Melanie’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you.” Their hands lingered, then separated. He had no idea what to say to her now. They’d been together an entire night, argued like an old married couple; it seemed wrong to pretend they were just-met strangers. “Uh, so this is your room?”

“Since I was ten.”

He looked around. Decorated with the sweet femininity of a butch drill sergeant.