Page 22 of Burn Point

Pushing those unwanted feelings aside, I set the photo against the lamp on the nightstand and headed to the kitchen, following the seductive smell of fresh coffee.

I made a beeline to the pot and poured a cup, tossed in a splash of cream, and sipped the nectar of the gods. A low moan of approval escaped as I swallowed that delicious first taste. A chuckle behind me brought me back to the present.

“Good morning. I take it you like coffee.”

I spun to find a sleepy, shirtless Nate standing with a shoulder propped in the doorway. Adorably tousled in the morning light, with stubble gracing his chin and golden curls flopped down over his forehead. His loose sleep pants teased the sexy V of his hips. He was cover-model perfect. It made sense that he’d be built with the easy way he’d carried me that first night. But having the evidence of that strength displayed before me—my mouth went dry.

He was extremely handsome, and oozed sex-appeal. He was also being extremely nice to me and deserved better than me ogling him.

I swallowed thickly and nodded. “It’s heaven.”

“Well, after you have your moment with that mug,” he waggled his eyebrows, “I thought maybe you’d want to ride out and see if we can find any more of your stuff.”

I forced myself to focus on his adorable face and not his muscular chest. “You don’t have to work today?”

He pulled a T-shirt off the back of a chair and slipped it on. “It’s my shift today, but I took some comp time, because I’ve been working non-stop for the past three days. So, I’m off, unless I get called in. I thought we could ride over there and go get you a laptop cord.”

Embarrassment, humbleness, guilt, and gratitude all swirled in a kaleidoscope of confusing emotions. I wanted to say yes, but facing the wreckage of my house was terrifying. I wanted my things, but I also felt like ditching everything and starting over. And a little piece of me wanted to run away and never look back.

“You don’t mind?”

Nate shook his head and opened his arms wide. “Nope, I’m at your disposal today.”

“I don’t want to put you out. You’ve done so much for me already.”

He made a pshh sound, waving off my gratitude. “Come on, let’s get going before they call me in and suck my time away. Besides, if I’m working at your place, I can tell them I’m busy and it won’t be a lie.”

He glanced out the window and back at me. “It’s a little cool out this morning. Do you need a long-sleeve shirt or a jacket?”

I shifted, embarrassed by my current state of full dependence on him. “That would be great.”

His expression softened and he gave me a tender smile. “It’s going to be okay, Jordan. This situation is just temporary.”

Two hours later, I’d shucked the flannel shirt I’d borrowed from Nate and tied it at my waist over my cutoff denim shorts. We were picking things out of the rubble and tossing anything salvageable into large rubber bins that he had unearthed from his garage.

Nate was on the phone, sounding frustrated.

“MC, I can’t come to a shoot today. I told you that when you called the first time. You need to talk to Mike and get the details worked out.”

It sounded like he was busy, and I didn’t want to pry, so I tiptoed farther into the mess and found the area that had been my bedroom. The walls had caved in, the sheetrock making a sticky mess.

“Hello!” a deep male voice called.

With my feet buried in a pile, I turned my body to see a large man in a police uniform walking up the sidewalk, picking his way around the downed tree. Clearly, I had missed that the men in this town were all romance hero worthy. He was tall, dark, and handsome and filled out his uniform in all the right places.

Nate, phone still at his ear, waved to him, and the guy turned his attention to me.

“You must be Jordan. I’m Mike, Nate’s friend.”

I gave him my biggest smile and lifted my hand in a dorky wave. “Hi, Mike.”

His gaze shifted to my poor house. “I just wanted to stop by and see if I could help.”

I shrugged. I’d take all the help I could get at this point but had no idea where to point him. The mess was overwhelming. “Well, if you don’t have anything better to do, I’m sure we can find a spot for you to stand in this catastrophe. As it is, I’m kind of stuck.”

Mike clambered closer. “Are you trying to get under there?” He pointed at the pile beside me.

“Yes, that’s where my dresser is supposed to be.”

---