Chapter Four

Roxy lay quiet, but she had the eeriest feeling that someone was staring at her. She rolled over, keeping her eyes shut. She strained to hear any movement. When she did open them, there was no one there. Thank God! She'd have a small heart attack if someone were standing by watching her sleep.

Relaxing a bit, she rubbed her eyes, yawned, and suddenly remembered the leak—and Jake Plummer. It probably was him spying on her. He had a habit of staring at her when they were in high school, but she never let on that she knew. His strange-colored eyes, not blue but not gray either, were like fingers exploring her skin. In some ways, it was almost pleasant. And it was exciting watching his admiration light up behind his lashes. In another way, he scared her a little. His gaze was so … intense, as if he dared to probe her soul, read her thoughts, and make them a part of his.

Well, he could look all he wanted, she had thought so at the time, but she never let him touch her physically. Well—only that once.

Roxy nuzzled her nose deeper into the soft pillow and went back to sleep.

When she finally woke up and opened her eyes to check on the time, she groaned. Ten o'clock. She had work to finish. She'd taken a warm shower the night before, so she simply threw on a pair of denim shorts over her bikini panties and pulled on a knit top over her lacy bra. If there wasn't a man lurking in the house, she wouldn't have bothered with the bra. She never wore shoes either, if she had to, so she padded out of her bedroom barefoot, passed through the great room, and into the kitchen to fix her breakfast. She began to make a single mug of instant coffee, but realized she probably should offer Jake some if he had been here earlier. Then she spotted the white Dunkin' Donuts bag sitting on the countertop. When she peeked inside there were three snowy, sugarcoated donuts inside. She pulled one out and took a bite. Obviously, Jake started work much earlier.

Scrumptious! Cream-filled, my favorite!

Now she would have to offer Jake a mug of coffee. She loaded up the coffeemaker and nibbled at the fresh-made donut while the coffeemaker dripped. She realized she hadn't had any supper last night. No wonder she was hungry. A couple of sunny-side-up eggs, some bacon, and a slice of toast would do her fine until lunchtime.

Roxy padded to the basement door and ducked her head into the stairwell, "Hey, Jake? Want another cup of coffee?"

"Yo, Roxy. Yeah, thanks. That'd be great."

"How do you like it?"

"If you stick your finger in it, sweetheart, I won't need any sugar. Otherwise, I take it black."

"I knew you were a smart ass, plumber-man," she retorted snidely and returned to the kitchen to pour him a cup. It was a few moments later when she heard him coming up the steps, clomping across the great room floor and into the kitchen.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?" he asked, sticking out a hand to accept the mug and getting a whiff of black, fresh made coffee. "Hmm, this is good," he said, taking a slurping sip. "I hope your dreams of me were just as sweet."

"I slept fine, thank you very much, Mr. Plummer. And I didn't dream at all. Certainly not of you, Jake."

"I'm devastated," he said with a wink.

"I bet."

She cracked two eggs into the heated frying pan. Depressing the plastic bar on the toaster, she placed two slices of white bread inside. "I ate one of the donuts. I hope you don't mind. I was starved."

"What kind did you take? The jelly?"

"No, the cream."

"Good. Then I'll take a second jelly donut. I already ate one cream on the way here, so now I have something to wash it down with." He took a man-sized bite out of the donut, and jam squirted into his palm. His big tongue swooped out and he licked the raspberry goop up into his mouth.

Watching that ordinary move, the weirdest sensation suddenly raced over her skin. When she glanced up, Roxy saw him looking at her hard. Powdered sugar coated his lips. Quickly, she turned back to the stove, fiddling with the two eggs sizzling in the frying pan.

What the hell is the matter with me? I just got the strangest urge to lick that white stuff right off his lips and … and what then? Dammit, his grin is just too cute.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Roxy. I tried to be quiet. I'll be doing more banging now that you're up and about."

"That's fine, Jake, because I'll be down by the boathouse reading in the hammock after I finish breakfast, so I won't hear you. I brought manuscripts with me to read by Monday. I'm working today just like you."

"Is that right? What do you do, Roxy? All I knew was that you went to some small college in Pennsylvania."

"I'm a technical editor for a publisher in New York."

"Uh, well, that sounds interesting, I guess."

"It pays the rent," she snapped cryptically and slid the fried eggs onto a plate as the toaster popped. She spread butter on the bread and brought the plate and her coffee mug to the kitchen table. She purposely didn't ask Jake to join her, but left him standing to drink his coffee. She noticed the local weekly lying on the table. "Is this yours, Jake?"

"Um hmm."

"Mind if I read it while I eat my breakfast?"

"Go ahead. Be my guest. I'm going back to work. I'll check with you later, okay?"

She was already flipping open the pages of the newspaper when he put the empty mug in the sink and headed downstairs again. Roxy chewed on her eggs and buttered toast for a minute before she realized what just happened. She and Jake sounded like a married couple having a normal conversation here in the kitchen. This seems really weird, she thought, a light, almost comfortable feeling wended down her spine. Having someone, even Jake, in the house with her this morning—well, was … almost pleasant, untroubled, so … right. She'd lived alone for three years, and it was definitely different having a man to talk to in the morning.

She shook her head and went back to eating. She'd better get that stupid thought washed right out of her hair. No way was she getting mixed up with Jake Plummer, the last Greek god and ladies' man from Miradale High.

* * * *

Jake remembered thinking Roxy looked tired, a bit stressed, when he'd seen her last evening. The commute to New York must be a killer. He was glad he didn't have to make the trip every day. Although, he thought, I may have to traipse into the financial capital of the world if I decide to go back to that kind of work again.

This morning, however, Roxy seemed to have recouped. Her eyes were sparkling, and she even gave him a smile. Probably because of the donuts. But a smile from her was a good sign. Maybe things would get better if he played his cards right. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her when he finished the plumbing project. Perhaps, he'd ask her to dinner. Or maybe he'd bring a big steak and some salad makings for a barbeque—just the two of them. They could go for a swim while the charcoal burned low. He envisioned her donning one of those eye-popping bikinis.

And afterward, maybe they'd paddle around the lake. Hopefully, later on he'd find his way into her bed, or anyplace she wanted him to make love to her. He'd make damn sure she didn't use that glorified fake cock he'd spotted on her bureau. He didn't want to believe she was the one using it. God, what an awful thought. He shivered, picturing that thing pushing into the slick, wet, softness of her sleek body. If she'd let him, tonight he'd have her smiling and more than that—flying without wings, heading for heaven and outer space. He knew how to drive a woman wild.