Page 23 of Here With You

She stared at his bare chest for what seemed like an eternity. All that looking made his jeans tighter, and when her eyes dropped, they were both aware of what her presence did to him.

He moved forward so they were inches apart. “Did you need something?” Ollie bound around the corner and took a running jump, catching her on the hip and sending her tottering backward. Miles grabbed for her and pulled her into his arms.

“Ollie!” His stern voice sent the dog running for cover. He dashed back inside and ran down the hallway toward the bedroom. Miles knew if he followed, he’d find Ollie’s head under the bed and his hind end exposed. For an intelligent dog, he didn’t understand hiding.

Emmaline in his arms brought him back to a time when he thought his life was perfect. She felt the same, smelled the same, and her curves fit him just right.

“Your dog is a nuisance.” She could have stepped back, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned into him and inhaled.

“Are you smelling me?” He caught her in the act. Emmaline always loved his cologne. He hadn’t changed it in all these years. If something was working, why fix it?

She jumped back. “Are you crazy?”

“No. I’m observant, and if I remember correctly, you always liked my cologne.”

She leaned in and sniffed. “You need a shower if you have a date. You smell like a construction worker who hasn’t bathed in days.”

He lifted his arm and sniffed. “My deodorant is working.”

“If you say so.” She looked past him to the beer on the table. “Rough day?”

He’d never confess to being dog-tired and ass-dragging by dinnertime. “It was a good day.” He stepped aside. “You want a beer?”

There was a great debate going on in her brain. He could see it by the way her head cocked side to side.

“I could use a beer.”

Miles moved to the kitchen, grabbed another beer for her, popped the cap, and handed it over. He would have offered her a glass, but Emmaline never used one. She always said pouring it into another container reduced the fizz. “Was it a busy day for you too?”

She took a sip. “It was no different from the others.” She smiled and leaned against the kitchen counter.

The old kitchen was dated, and Emmaline looked out of place. It was like putting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on fine china and serving it with a glass of milk in a crystal goblet.

“Really? I was told you were short-handed,” he said.

“Oh. That. We handled it. What about you? You were shorthanded too, I heard.”

He shrugged. “Yes, but we also handled it as well.” He was exhausted, but wouldn’t let her see that. It only showed weakness and gave her the upper hand.

“Good to know.” She pushed away from the counter and walked into the living room. “This place needs to be gutted like a fish.”

He took in the space. Gutting it might have been extreme, but it needed work. “I’ll be painting while I’m here.” Whether they sold the resort or stayed, it needed a pick-me-up, and a coat of paint would do wonders.

“You paint?”

He laughed. “Not really, but how hard can it be?”

“Pretty damn hard if you want it to look good.”

He made a face and shrugged. “They said nothing about it looking nice.”

Her beautiful eyes widened. “You’re not doing a half-assed job. My niece and nephew have to live here.”

He moved close to her, so her sweater-covered breasts touched his bare chest. “Now, darlin’, have you ever known me to do anything halfway?” He leaned in until his lips brushed the lobe of her ear. “I’m always thorough.” He swore she shivered before she stepped back.

“Last time we were together, you thoroughly ruined everything.”

Would she ever let it go? He knew she wouldn’t until he proved himself trustworthy. When he left, everyone, including Emmaline, considered him lower than dirt. He needed to change people’s opinions of him.

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