Page 46 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
“What’s with you? Are you going to a costume party?”
“Believe me, this is no party. I’m simply trying to keep warm.”
His gaze lowered to the heavy skillet in her hand. “Do you plan to cook on that radiator?”
“I might if I could get it to work. In case you hadn’t noticed, there isn’t any heat in this place.”
Nolan set the baseball bat aside and moved to the far wall to look at the radiator. “What’s wrong with it?”
How like a man to ask stupid questions! If Maryanne hadknownwhat was wrong with it, she wouldn’t be standing there shivering, with a scarf swaddling her face like an old-time remedy for toothache.
“How in heaven’s name am I supposed to know?” she answered testily.
“What went on here last night, anyway? A wake?”
She glanced at the mound of tissues and shrugged. He was scanning the area as if it were a crime scene and he should take caution not to stumble over a dead body.
Walking across the living room, he picked up the two empty wine bottles and held them aloft for her inspection, pretending to be shocked.
“Very funny.” She put the skillet down and removed the bottles from his hands, to be deposited promptly in the garbage.
“So you had a party and I wasn’t invited.” He made it sound as though he’d missed the social event of the year.
Maryanne sighed loudly. “If you must know, Carol, Barbara and I had a pity party.”
“A what? You’re kidding, right?” He didn’t bother to hide his mocking grin.
“Never mind.” She should’ve realized he’d only poke fun at her. “Can you figure out how to get this thing working before the next ice age?”
“Here, give me a shot at it.” He gently patted the top of the radiator as he knelt in front of it. “Okay, ol’ Betsy, we’re trusting you to be good.” He began fiddling with knobs, still murmuring ridiculous endearments—like a cowboy talking to his horse.
“It doesn’t do any good to talk to an inanimate object,” she advised primly, standing behind him.
“You want to do this?”
“No,” she muttered. Having Nolan in her home, dressed in his nightclothes, did something odd to her, sent her pulse skittering erratically. She deliberately allowed her attention to wander to the scene outside her window. The still-green lawns of Volunteer Park showed in the distance and she pretended to be absorbed in their beauty.
“I thought I told you to keep that door chain in place,” he said casually as he worked. “This isn’t The Seattle.”
“Do you honestly think you need to remind me of that now?” She rubbed her hands together, hoping to generate some warmth before her fingers went numb.
“There,” he said, sounding satisfied. “All she needed was a little loving care.”
“Thanks,” Maryanne said with relief.
“No problem, only the next time something like this happens don’t try to fix it yourself.”
“Translated, that means I shouldn’t try to fix the radiator again whileyou’retrying to sleep.”
“Right.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes alive with appreciation. He really had been good to her from the day she’d moved in—before then, too. Discounting what he’d written about her in his column, of course. And even that had ended up having a positive effect.
It’d been a week since she’d seen him. A long week. A lonely week. Until now, she’d hardly been able to admit, even to herself, how much she’d missed him. Standing there as he was, Maryanne was struck by just how attractive she found him. If only he’d taken the time to button his shirt! She reveled inhis lean strength and his aura of unquestionable authority—and that chest of his was driving her to distraction.
She wasn’t the only one enthralled. Nolan was staring at her, too. The silence lingered between them, lengthening moment by moment as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
“I have to go,” he finally said, breaking eye contact by glancing past her, out the window.
