Page 73 of Enemies in Paradise

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. “That surprises you?”

I turn around and pluck a Sarah J. Maas from the shelf. “Only because readers usually like bookstores.”

“I like the idea of your bookstore, just not the location.” Bear hasn’t moved from his position by the door, as if he’s prepared to bolt any second.

So I don’t press him about where he thinks I could open a bookstore if not in the shop. I know the answer—nowhere as good a location as the one I’ve already picked out. But I won’t thank him for his hospitality by picking a fight with him.

“Mind if I borrow this?” I face Bear and hold up the book. “I haven’t read it yet.”

“Sure. I’m done with it.” His face relaxes into a pleased grin. “Borrow whatever you want.”

“Thanks.”

The fact Bear likes to read does nothing to slow the fantasies of him still pinging around my brain.

Bear drops one bag of clothes long enough to open the door behind him, then picks it up again.

“I’ll check the pipes tomorrow, but the building probably needs a re-pipe, which takes a couple of days. Then there’s the floor and wall repair.” He speaks with more confidence than I’ve seen in him before.

“Will you do that? Or someone else?” I ask.

“The re-pipe yes, the drywall repair, maybe. I’ll ask Grandpa what he wants to do. He may want a professional to patch everything up.” Bear throws one bag over his shoulder, and I’m reminded he’d done the same to me.

I bet he could do the same with an ax, too.

An awkward silence passes between us, and I realize I’m staring. “Okay, then. You can leave those bags there.”

I point to a spot very far from me, then look around. “Do you have a washer and dryer up here?”

My brain isn’t functioning properly. It’s creating all kinds of scenarios that involve wood chopping, kilts, and Bear kissing me again. I can’t be trusted to get anywhere near him, so I really,really,need him to leave.

“The washer is in the garage.” Bear nods toward the floor and the garage underneath us. “I’ll start these for you before I head back to the shop.”

“You’re going back to the shop?”

Wait. Did he just say he’s doing my laundry?

“Gotta get the water up before it does any more damage.”

“I can help you.” I quickly cross the room. “At least let me do my laundry. You don’t have to do that.”

No way am I letting him both do my laundry and clean up my apartment on his own. I need to keep thinking of him as my enemy—the guy who’s getting in the way of my bookstore—and he’s making it practically impossible. I reach for the bag, buthe doesn’t let it go. His eyes dance and his mouth purses in a challenge, daring me to take it from him.

I’ve learned from experience that I’m not strong enough to beat Bear in a tug-of-war, and I’m dangerously close to him and his lips. So I let go of the bag, glaring at the satisfied grin that spreads across his face.

He lifts the heavy bag and points to a door on the other side of the room. “That’s the door to the bathroom. There’s also a door to it through the bedroom. Go take a shower. Or a bath. Whichever you want. I’ll get a few people to help me clean things up. It’s not a big deal and you’re not wearing any … real clothes.”

Was he about to say panties? How does he know? How much did he see?

I don’t think I want to know the answer to any of those questions. I do know I would love a bath, so I don’t argue with him about doing laundry. I hate laundry. But Ilooooovehot baths. Especially when I’ve got a good book to sink into.

I nod and mutter a thank you, even though Bear probably deserves more.

I don’t miss the look of surprise that skitters across his face. I guess he expected me to fight harder. But the effort of resisting the urge to move closer and thank him properly has taken all the fight out of me.

Forget the hot bath. What I need more than anything right now is a cold shower, because not even the frigid air coming through the open door is enough to cool my burning skin.

Bear walks out the door and is about to close it, but turns back to me. “You probably haven’t eaten.”

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