Unfinished Dreams by Amanda McIntyre Page A

beyond business and closer to something personal. “But this isn’t a good time and that’s the point,” he muttered to his reflection. Frowning, he decided the best thing to do was to keep things between the two of them as strictly business as possible.
    When he rounded the corner from the hallway, every good and decent intention sailed clean out the window.
    She’d removed her denim shirt and wore only a pale pink tank top. He quickly deduced that it matched the glimpse of the underwear he’d seen earlier, which was now clearly evident by the dip in her waistband as she leaned over scrubbing her hair with a towel.
    Gabe scrambled for every ounce of polite integrity he could muster as his eyes all but rolled out of their sockets.
    She straightened and turned suddenly to face him. The faint blush of her cheeks was from the blood rushing to her head, he was certain.
    “Sorry, I was drying my hair quick.” The need for explanation was unnecessary. The bashful smile and the nonchalant shrug connected to parts of him he’d just as soon not tamper with.
    “Uh, is there anything I can do to help?” His concentration was skating somewhere between the loaf of French bread on the counter and the faint line of pink lace peeking above her shirt. Not that he was ogling, but he did notice that all aspects of her fit together quite nicely. Not that he was looking seriously. Because now wasn’t a good time.
    “You could slice this for me, if you wouldn’t mind?” She handed him a bread knife and stepped to the stove.
    He skirted in behind her, his belly pressed as close as he could get to the counter. Now he understood why he’d rarely seen anyone but his mother in this kitchen cooking. There was barely room for one person.
    He kept close to the counter as Tess skittered around him. She didn’t seem the least bit nervous and he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Still, he was glad she’d lost that look of fear he’d seen in her eyes earlier on the porch. He just knew that no matter how tantalizing her skin smelled or how incessantly she chatted about every soul in town, it was important to stay emotionally detached.
    Gabe glanced over his shoulder and the sight of her reaching into the oven nearly caused him the loss of a finger. He turned as she straightened, hoping she hadn’t seen him gawking.
    Placing the thick slices of cottage bread in the bowl she provided, he turned; bowl in hand, as she also turned holding the Dutch oven with two potholders.
    He caught the panic in her eye as the pan slipped.
    Tossing the bread to the countertop, he caught the handle and her hand at once. His gaze froze to hers for a moment and to his relief, she smiled. The pan wasn’t the only heat between them.
    “Close call.” He smiled congenially.
    “Fast hands,” she responded with a bright smile and her cheeks flushed a pale crimson.
    A minute, an hour, maybe an eternity passed as they stood there smiling like idiots at one another.
    Gabe wasn’t sure which of them broke the spell, but he was damn sure something more than culinary skills was happening between him and the city slicker.
     
    * * *
     
    They ate in silence, seated across from one another at the kitchen table. The steady rain pelted the roof sounding like pebbles on tin. Tess glanced at the quiet man across from her wondering so many things about him. Most of which, she had a strong suspicion he didn’t wish to discuss.
    “So, Gabe?”  She pushed around a dumpling as she stared at her plate. When she summoned the courage to glance up, she slammed into his steady gaze. “Uh, do you have any other family around here?”  Was that too personal? She chewed her lip hoping she hadn’t brought up a difficult subject.
    He focused on his plate and shook his head no. “Nope, I’m an only child. Both my parents are gone now.” He peered over his glass of milk as he drank over half its contents. He wiped his mouth on the napkin and resumed eating.
    Closed