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Chapter 3
Brooke Castle.
Of all the damned luck.
Sam pulled her tighter against his chest as the ladder crashed to the floor. Her gasp of surprise jolted him with heat.
He caught a whiff of something both spicy and sweet, like cinnamon. His blood grew warm. She gripped a fistful of his shirt and snaked one arm around his shoulders in a move he liked more than he should have.
“Who are you, The Flash?” She stared at him, her brown eyes wide.
“I saw the rung start to give when you put your foot on it.” Belatedly, he realized he’d just revealed that he’d been watching her descend the ladder. “I told Felix the last time I was here that he needed to replace that ladder. Obviously he hasn’t gotten around to it.”
He had a few choice words for the cabin owner, too.
Since Brooke might have been experiencing mild shock, he didn’t set her down right away. With her still in his arms, he walked to the sofa. She was as light as a little dandelion puff. He told himself his heartbeat was increasing from exertion rather than close proximity to this woman with her cinnamon scent and soft body. He set her down on the sofa.
When was the last time he’d been this close to a woman, especially one as tempting as Brooke? Much as he’d disliked his self-imposed celibacy over the past year, he’d appreciated the lack of complications in his life. He sure as hell had no intention of changing that now.
Not even with her.
Especially not with her.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly.
“Yeah.” She pulled her hands through her hair and took a deep breath, still looking a little rattled. “Thanks for the rescue.”
He stepped back, trying not to look at the curves of her cleavage tucked into her snug-fitting tank top. She wasn’t wearing a bra—a fact he’d noticed the second he saw her dancing around the cabin—and his body still simmered with heat.
He stalked to the table and picked up his plate. He’d spent the past year trying hard to ignore Brooke every time he passed her on the street or saw her at a town festival. Which was often. She seemed to be everywhere all the time with her camera, notebook, and handheld voice recorder. She was the Lois Lane of Bliss Cove—and that was just one reason he needed to stay away from her.
Unfortunately, her omnipresence made it impossible to ignore or avoid her.
He had, however, managed to notice everything about her, from her shiny brown ponytail to the way her ass rounded out her jeans. She was always either talking to someone, snapping a photo, or scribbling in a notebook. He noticed her serious, interested expression, her habit of unconsciously nibbling on her pen, and the bounce of her camera against her hip.
He noticed what kind of books she liked to read and review for the paper, her routine of walking down Starfish Avenue with a tray of take-out coffees every morning, and the way she bought a bouquet of daisies every Friday afternoon. Her eyes twinkled with curiosity, she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder with her left hand, and her smile generated a full-fledged glow that even penetrated Sam’s hard-earned defenses.
But not far enough to soften his resistance to her.
As far as he was concerned, a fortified wall separated him from Brooke. He had no intention of scaling it, no matter how muchnoticinghe did.
No matter how good she felt in his arms.
He poured a glass of water and brought it over to her, wishing he’d thought to bring some liquor—more for himself than her.
As soon as she went to bed, he’d get out his laptop and try to get some work done. Maybe he could salvage a few hours out of this night before leaving tomorrow and resolving whatever snafu had led to the double-booking.
“Thanks.” She took a few swallows of water.
He picked up the plastic floral bag she’d dropped when she fell and handed it to her.
“I was coming down to brush my teeth, and…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the broken ladder, then up at the loft. “Uh oh. How am I going to get back up there?”
“You’re not.” Sam picked up the ladder and rested it against the wall. He didn’t have the tools to fix it, and no way would he let her use the ladder with only a makeshift repair job. “You’ll have to sleep down here.”
She blinked. “There’s no room down here. If I sleep on the sofa, where will you sleep?”
“On the floor.”
