“He needs the work, I need the help. Don’t make it more than it is.”
Dark eyes seemed to stare into her very being. “You want people to think you’re tough.”
“I am tough.”
“You’re a marshmallow inside.”
She stiffened. “I could have had your player’s ass thrown in jail. Don’t think I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t shown up today. I’ve been running this place for years. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you like what you’re doing?”
“Of course,” she said automatically because it was always what she answered. She’d known she would run the bakery from the time she was eight or nine years old. It had been understood…expected. Hers wasn’t to be a life of many surprises. Lately there sure hadn’t been any good ones.
Wait. There had been Claire. Reuniting with her sister had been good. Watching Claire fall madly in love, get pregnant, get engaged and find total happiness had stretched her good nature a little, but she was dealing. Because what choice did she have?
“Earth to Nicole.”
She blinked and saw Hawk standing a little too close.
“I lost you there,” he said.
“That must be a first,” she said without thinking. “A woman focusing on something other than you for an eighth of a second.”
“Because I’m so hard to resist?”
“Not for me.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re interested.”
If she’d been able to look at him for more than five seconds at a time without wanting to make moany noises, she might have picked up something heavy and clocked him on the head. As it was, he was telling the truth and she was too embarrassed to figure out a quick way to verbally eviscerate him. Which left her with the humiliating comeback of, “I’m not interested.”
He grinned. “That was convincing.”
“I don’t care what it is, it’s the truth.” Almost. Annoyance pushed her to honesty. “You know you’ve got a great body and you obviously enjoy flashing it at the world. Which means what? You’re well into your thirties. Shouldn’t you be over that by now? Shouldn’t you spend about a third as much time developing your mind as your body? You can’t be a football coach forever.”
Too late, she remembered that, yes, he could be a coach forever and that Raoul had mentioned something about him being a professional football player. Which probably meant he was rich.
“You’re assuming I’m stupid?” he asked in a tone that was both amused and outraged. “Is that because I have muscles or because I play football? Isn’t that the same as me assuming you’re an idiot because you’re a natural blonde?”
Maybe. Yes. She ignored the question. “How do you know I’m a natural blonde?”
“My excellent powers of observation.”
“I run a successful business. I’m obviously more than capable,” she said primly.
HAWK LIKED how Nicole got all pinchy when she was annoyed. He liked how every time he moved closer, she got flustered and didn’t know where to look. If she hadn’t been interested, she would have told him to back off and get away, but she hadn’t said a word. He liked that, too.
“Obviously,” he teased, as he moved closer.
“Don’t you have any respect for personal space?”
“No.”
She raised her head and glared, but before she could speak, he said, “You have beautiful eyes.”
Her mouth opened and closed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Flirting.”
“Why?”
“It’s fun.”
“Not for me.”
“Everyone enjoys attention.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“You don’t think your eyes are beautiful?”
“They’re fine. Functional. I don’t care about the color.”
“Sure you do. You have to know they’re pretty. You’re pretty.”
Nicole blushed.
He didn’t see it at first. She turned away and muttered something under her breath. All he caught were a couple of words, including “unbelievably arrogant” and “ego.” So he wasn’t paying attention until he saw her press her fingers to her cheeks as if trying to cool the skin.
Why would someone so together blush because he noticed she was pretty? Unless no one else bothered to look. He had a feeling she was the kind of woman who scared off men and then wondered why she was lonely.
He could fix that.
“You like me flirting with you,” he said. “It’s the best part of your day.”
“You’re amazing.”
“I know.”
She groaned. “I don’t mean that in a good way. You are delusional. Nothing about you is the best part of my day.”
“Liar.”
She made a sound of frustration low in her throat. It was almost a growl. He wondered what she sounded like right before she lost control in bed. He had a feeling she would scream.
“Save the flirting for someone who’s interested,” she muttered, holding on to her cane so hard her knuckles turned white.
“You’re interested.”
She shook her head. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”
“Sure, but this is more fun.”
“No, it’s not.”
He was getting to her. The blush deepened and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to throw herself at him or punch him. Frustration was good. It meant she was interested and annoyed with herself at the same time.
“We should go out,” he said, knowing the invitation would push her further off balance.
“What? No.”
“Dinner. We’ll go to dinner.”
“I’m not going to dinner with you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not a good idea.”
And the first round went to him. If she really hadn’t been interested, she would have told him directly.
“Sure it is.” He moved so close that she had to tilt her head back to continue to meet his gaze. “It’s an excellent idea.”
“I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not and you can’t make me.”
He walked to the door of the bakery and paused. “Want to bet?” he said, and then he left.
As he crossed to his truck, he could practically hear her sputtering. That had gone well. It was early in the first quarter, and he was already deep in enemy territory and poised to score.
“AMY’S THERAPY is going really well,” Claire said as she chopped more mushrooms, then scooped them into a bowl. “She’s young, which helps. Her brain is still open to change. Unlike those of us who have closed brains.”
Nicole shredded lettuce into a bowl. “I have no idea where my brain stands on the whole open-closed issue.”
Amy was Wyatt’s daughter and Claire’s soon-to-be stepdaughter. She’d been born deaf and had recently asked for a cochlear implant to help her hear. While the surgery put in the required hardware, special therapy was required to train her to recognize sound in a new way and process it.
“Amy’s so excited about the implant,” Claire said. “She asks me to play for her every night.”
“Which you love.”
“I do. She’s my biggest fan.”
Given that Claire was a world-class concert pianist, with Grammy-winning CDs and more concert dates than she could fill in two lifetimes, that was saying something.
“I thought Wyatt was your biggest fan,” Nicole teased.
“He is. In other ways.”
Her sister laughed and Nicole smiled. She was happy for Claire. Seriously. She didn’t want Wyatt for herself. She tried telling herself she didn’t want any man for herself, but she knew she would be lying. She wanted someone special. Someone who would love her and always be there for her. Unfortunately she’d picked Drew.
Instantly she flashed back to that night when she’d walked in on Drew and Jesse in bed together. They’d been kissing, or about to. Jesse’d been topless. Nicole had-
She reminded herself not to go there. She had to stop torturing herself with the past. She’d put Drew behind her; she had to move on. She should think about something more pleasant.