Название: Killing Time
Автор: Leslie Kelly
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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He gulped at that image. Then he gave her a bit more rope…because she deserved it for bringing up the word sex when that was about all he’d been thinking about since he’d laid eyes on her again.
Sex. With her. Lots of it. The kind they used to have when they were young and hungry, when every cell in his body had contained a raging hormone and every one of them had been screaming her name.
“I can’t believe you didn’t mention this place. Did you intentionally make me suffer with all those other ones this morning? Was this some kind of ploy to get even because I dumped you back in college?”
Talk about déjà vu. They’d been in each other’s company only a few hours and once again she was accusing him when he hadn’t done a thing to deserve it. Just like she had when they’d broken up, when she’d thrown ugly words like playboy, irresponsible and “unable to be faithful” at his face. All because she’d seen a questionable moment and chosen to believe the worst.
“The rent is very reasonable,” he replied evenly, not responding to her barb.
The older woman walked down off the porch and finally noticed them standing on the front walk. “Oh, you caught me,” she said, giving Mick a guilty-looking smile. “I just took a pie out of the oven and left it to cool on the counter.”
Caroline extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Caro Lamb.”
“Caro..lan? How nice to meet you, dear.”
“Uh, Lamb. That is…never mind. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m interested in the room for rent.”
Mick suffered under a ten-second stare from a pair of eyes that had been able to make him spill his guts with just a glance from the time he’d been a kid. “She’s with the reality show and needs a place to stay for a few weeks.” One fine gray brow arched a bit. “I’ve shown her every rental in town,” he added.
Those stiffened shoulders eased a bit. “Well then, how wonderful. I’m sure you’ll love it. I have a hair appointment, so I’ll get out of your way and let you go look.”
Mick watched her leave, then turned his attention to Caroline. She went up to the porch, gave the two-person swing a little push and stood up on tiptoe to sniff at a flowering plant hanging by the door. Her smile was evident from down here on the lawn. She suddenly looked much more like the girl he’d known, which didn’t make him feel one bit better.
She even sat down on the swing, setting it in motion with a kick and wiggling to make herself more comfortable while she waited for him to open the house.
“This is wonderful,” she murmured.
She liked the place. Damn, why did that hurt so much?
“I want to see the inside. If it’s as perfect as the outside, then I think I’ve found where I want to live.”
“You’re making a mistake…”
“No, I’m not,” she said, rising from the swing and staring down at him from three steps above. “Stop telling me what I want and what I don’t, Mick. I would have thought you’d learned a long time ago that I don’t take well to that kind of thing.”
He stiffened. Like he’d needed a reminder of how she’d reacted when he’d tried to insist she didn’t really want to move out to L.A. That her future was with him.
The anger in her voice and condemnation in her eyes was the last straw. He didn’t protest as she looked at the house. As predicted, she loved it. She really went crazy over the rec room with the amazing TV setup. Caroline was ready to move full speed ahead and sign a lease on the spare suite of rooms.
So be it.
An hour later, after she’d signed the papers and paid the full four weeks’ rent in advance, he watched her pull away from his office without a backwards glance.
“You made your bed, babe. Now you can lie in it.”
He just couldn’t wait to see what she said when she found out that bed was in his house.
CHAPTER FOUR
“SO, TELL ME ABOUT this Caro Lamb.”
Great. Just the person Mick didn’t want to talk about. And just the person he didn’t want to talk about her with—his mother—who’d beelined for his table at Ed’s Café the minute she’d entered. So much for his nice, quiet Friday morning breakfast. “Her name’s Caroline. And there’s nothing to tell.”
His mother sniffed, knowing better. Mick watched, amused, while the very predictable Marnie Winchester picked up a napkin, wiped off the seat and made a harrumphing sound as crumbs floated to the floor. She sat across from him, keeping her purse in her lap, hands folded neatly on top of it. He knew darn well she’d ask the waitress to wipe off the table before she ate a thing.
“Sophie seems to think you knew her before.”
Sophie, you’re a dead woman.
He merely shrugged, neither confirming nor denying, hoping his mother had lost that whole mind-reading ability once her kids were out of the house. But he doubted it.
“Well?” she persisted, not at all put off by his signals.
She’d been relentless about Caroline since the afternoon when they’d bumped into her coming out of his house. She’d been there baking him a nice homemade pie. Why? Because his mother was convinced he hadn’t eaten a decent meal or a good wholesome home-cooked treat since leaving home ten years ago.
“I’ve told you, she’s a producer with the TV show,” he said.
“The TV show?” Tina Laudermilk, who was sitting at the next booth listening to every word they said, turned around and gave Mick a good-morning smile. “I hear they’ve started to arrive.”
From behind him, Mick heard a man’s voice. “I saw a bunch of trucks at the inn yesterday when I was making my deliveries.” It was Earl Donovan, the UPS guy, and an aspiring actor who’d been following the TV show goings-on with avid interest.
Earl and Tina began a conversation right over Mick’s and his mother’s heads, talking back and forth as if the other booth was not between them. “I stopped by the trailer and picked up the paperwork to be an extra.”
“Is it true they’re going to do scenes here?” Tina asked.
Ed, the owner and cook, popped his head up from behind the half wall separating the kitchen and the counter. “Yep. And they’re paying me, too.”
“Better save the money for future food poisoning claims,” Mick muttered.
Judging by the way his mother’s lips twitched, she’d heard.
“I saw the director fellow in the drug store yesterday,” Tina said. She made a gooey-eyed face that told Mick what she’d thought of the man. “And did you hear the host is going to be Joshua Charmagne, from that cop show? What a dream.”
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