Private Parts

She squeezed lotion into her hand and rubbed it over her left leg, repeating the ritual with the other. She’d taken a shower and wore undies and a short pink robe her sister had gotten her last Christmas. She put the lotion bottle on the nightstand and sighed. She could always get dressed and drive home to Portland now. Spend the weekend doing the holiday shopping she still needed to see to. Lord knew nothing was going on here. Meetings were suspended until Monday.

And it was becoming increasingly clear that yummy Troy Metaxas intended to honor his belief that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, no matter how overtly she flirted with him.

She flopped back onto the mattress, twirling the robe’s silky belt around her finger.

Okay, so she wasn’t used to such rejection. Not that she got every man she set her sights on, but having to face that man every day took its toll on a girl.

She should have gone home.

She pushed up off the bed, looked for her slippers, couldn’t find them, then stepped to the door, quietly cracking it open. Caleb Payne was also staying in the bed-and-breakfast in the room at the end of the hall, but she hadn’t seen him come back yet. And guessed he might not, seeing as he and Bryna Metaxas seemed to have something hot and heavy going on.

Otherwise, the place was quiet and empty.

Padding silently down the hall and then the stairs, she wondered where Mrs. Foss had stored the homemade apple pie she’d offered her a piece of earlier. Just a small slice, she told herself. Something decadent to make up for the other decadent somethings she might have had if Troy wasn’t so damn stubborn.

She knew he wanted her. Saw it in his eyes every time their gazes met. So why was he fighting so hard? Why didn’t he just give in and enjoy what she was offering up? A little no-strings sex never hurt anybody. In fact, it usually helped.

Kendall certainly could use some right about now.

A floorboard in the foyer creaked under her foot. She made a face and tried to be a little more careful, staying just to the side of the well-traveled paths of the old house in the hopes that she wouldn’t run into another old board determined to give away her intentions.

The fanlight above the oven was on in the kitchen. And right there on top of the stove sat what she was looking for, covered in plastic wrap.

Oh, yes. A piece of apple pie would definitely hit the spot right now.

She quietly got out a dish and served herself up a helping, wondering if there was any ice cream to be had with it. Bingo! She took a carton of French vanilla from the freezer, scooped some out and then put it away.

Mmm …

Nothing was so good as a forbidden treat indulged in when nobody was looking.

She began padding her way back to her room, licking her fork, when a shadow appeared at the doorway.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized who it was. And it wasn’t Caleb. Rather it was a treat better than homemade apple pie, even with ice cream. Troy Metaxas …

4

HE SHOULDN’T HAVE COME.

Troy stood on the porch of Foss’s B and B just outside the arc of light created by the fixture over the door and considered his options. If he knocked, Mrs. Foss would very likely be the one to answer. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to face her this late on a Friday night.

The town as a whole had been surprised at best, mystified at worst when the Fosses had first decided to turn their six-bedroom house into a bed-and-breakfast about a decade ago. They had eight kids, all of who had moved out of town as soon as they came of age because their parents had been so overprotective they were barely allowed out of the yard until they were eighteen.

Then Mr. Foss had died and Mrs. Foss continued on, twice as miserable as before. While Troy ran into her only on the rare occasion, none of his encounters with her had been particularly pleasant. Partly because she blamed his family for the loss of her children to bigger cities after the shut-down of the lumber mill. Mostly because she was a bitch.

The thought of seeing her now seriously threatened whatever latent desires had brought him there in the first place.

He began to turn away when the door opened. He turned back, about to offer his apologies to the ornery old woman … and was instead presented with exactly the person who had haunted his dreams for the past three days.

Kendall.

“Hi,” she said simply.

“Hi.” He took her in from head to foot, thinking that she should wear that short, silky pink robe all the time. He’d have never been able to refuse her for as long as he had if he’d only seen this.

The deep V revealed that she wore no bra or camisole, her breasts soft, pale mounds. At least what he could see. What he couldn’t see, he could easily guess at as her nipples poked against the fabric, drawing attention to the darker, puckered skin there. The hem of the robe hit her at just below what was decent, if decent could be used to describe any part of the sexy-as-all-get-out woman in front of him.

She shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other, causing her robe to open. He caught a glimpse of the lacy crotch of her white panties and nearly groaned aloud.

“Is there a particular reason you stopped by on this chilly night?” she asked with a saucy smile.

Oh, there was a really good reason. And it was looking straight at him …

KENDALL HAD TROY EXACTLY where she wanted him: in her bedroom.

Well, all right. Maybe not exactly where she wanted him. Because that would put him right between her thighs.

All good things come to those who wait …

She licked her lips, tasting vanilla ice cream there. “Would you like some pie?” she asked.

He still stood just inside the room in his overcoat, his gaze darting toward the closed door.

“Don’t worry. Mrs. Foss sleeps like the dead.”

His grimace was altogether too handsome. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“You’re right. She’s probably listening to everything we say through a glass pressed to the wall.” She’d put her plate down on a small table near the window that was flanked by two wicker chairs. She sat in one and adjusted her robe a beat slower than she should have. So shoot her. She was enjoying his reaction to her wanton actions a little too much. Her panties were already dripping and the silk rasped against her übersensitive nipples, eliciting a wicked shiver.

“Please. I’ll share.”

He looked back at the closed door again, then finally sat down. He seemed to realize he was still wearing his coat and got back up to take it off, carefully folding it over the back of the chair before sitting down again.

The sign of a true bachelor.

She took a slow, sinful bite of the pie, humming as she did so. “As sour as Mrs. Foss is, she makes a sweet apple pie.”

“That’s because she doesn’t make it. Verna at the diner does.”

Kendall raised her brows. “Thanks for the insider info.” She smiled. “Does everyone know everyone else’s business here in Earnest?”

“Pretty much.”

She took another bite and pointed the fork in his direction. “So word will be all over about your visit then?”

“It will probably be on the front page of the Earnest Gazette. Along with a picture.”

“Above or below the fold?”