When he glanced up and caught her gaze, little spikes of desire pulsed in her veins. She dropped the polyester curtain.
Mrrrowindeed.
The scruff on his face announced he hadn’t shaved in days. Lucy was apparently into shaggy men, as of right that moment.
Way too early for this.
More pounding. “Saw you. Know you’re in there, Lucy.”
She drew the curtain back again.
He pointed to the handle and mouthed, “Open.”
She shook her head and planted her hand on her hip.
He rattled the door handle.
Fine.
Safety chain in place, she opened the door a crack. When he pressed to enter, the chain caught.
“Lucy, I need to talk to you,” he said through the thin opening.
“It’s too early for conversation.” She ran a hand over her obnoxious morning hair.
“I need your help.”
“You said I’m not supposed to help you.” She tried to close the door, but he stopped it before the latch caught.
“Bridgett’s in the hospital.”
A knot formed in Lucy’s belly. She released the safety chain and opened the door. “What happened?”
“We’re supposed to leave for Twin Lakes today, but she ate something with peaches, and apparently she’s allergic. I just came from the hospital. She’s all puffed up.”
Peaches? That sounded awful. “Will she be okay?”
“They say she’ll be fine, but she needs monitoring. You have to be my wife.”
The knot in her belly tightened, and she stepped backward into the living room. “It is way too early to discuss marriage.”
He followed her inside. His gaze traveled over her, and the edges of his lips ticked up. “Please, Lucy. I need a favor. And you look like you need caffeine. Where do you keep the coffee?”
She crossed her arms across her chest. “At Starbucks.”
He tossed her an annoyed look and brushed past her to the kitchen.
Ugh. “Fine. To the coffee. Not the marriage.” She followed him into her kitchen where he snagged the tin of blonde roast off the counter.
“Coffee liners?” he asked.
“Use your sock,” she replied sweetly. She didn’t do controlling. Not with men. Not in life.
He dug through her cupboards. “You always this grumpy in the morning?”
She grumbled under her breath.
“I’ll tell you what. You go do whatever you do to wake up.” He turned and stepped toward her to trace his fingers intimately along her arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind.
