Page 14 of Colton's Secret Weapon
She nodded, put her key in the door, swung it open, and glanced back at him. “Always. Just trying to figure out if I’m paying by the hour yet, or not.”
Couldn’t the woman accept some help without making a major event out of it? Let him ease his conscience some before he broke it to her that there was no point in her paying for his legal services until she had her bigger problems resolved. “The clock hasn’t started yet” was all he said, as he held the door and followed her inside.
Chapter 5
Dove was fully prepared for cleanup duty. She’d spent an hour meditating that morning, separating self from other as one’s aura did not have to take on another’s. Blocking herself from the negative energy into which she’d be walking. She had a small lavender sachet tucked into the middle of her bra, between her breasts. And knew what music she was going to cue the second she walked into space that was her own.
In spite of the fact that another had inflicted harm there.
One sight of Mitchell Colton and she was grasping to hold on to her calm. Bending her head, she inhaled like she was taking in the last air left on earth. Focusing on the lavender scent wafting up to her, she walked through the back hallway of Repo and up the stairs to the second floor and her damaged sanctuary. The Repo maintenance guy had installed a brand-new lock for her the day before.
Her thoughts more on the lawyer than awaiting messes or new locks, she went with what was hitting her strongest. The man looked too good in a suit. Put those muscled arms and broad chest in a shirt that delineated them, rather than a jacket that hid them, and you had a whole new set of problems.
Or at least, in that moment, Dove did.
Wow.
All of the adventuring Colton men were fine specimens of the male ideal, but Mitchell… She’d had no idea he was so well endowed.
Turning to say something pithy, to rile him and get herself into a different mode, she stumbled on the step instead. He’d been closer to her than she’d realized. Her gaze had been shooting downward, to meet his gaze steps below. And instead landed on the fly of his jeans.
Which much more clearly hugged what it held than suit pants had done.
Wow.
Endowed indeed.
Infused as she was with the sight and the thoughts it engendered, she nevertheless made it into her studio without gagging over the sights and smells awaiting her. Dipping her head for sniffs of lavender again and again, she proceeded across the room to the counter and cupboards that served as desk, storage and sound system station. And zeroed in on feeling her own strength over the destructive emotions of whoever had violated her space.
“The police wanted me to check to see if anything’s missing,” she said. “Detective Welding was going to accompany me here last night, but I told him I’d rather look in the morning. I’m supposed to call him with a report. He said they took a look and saw my sound system untouched and laptop still hooked up under here…” She pulled out the keyboard drawer that slid from under the countertop, opened the computer and saw the home screen flash on normally, and continued with, “So they aren’t expecting me to find anything gone. And without that, there’s really no evidence for them to act upon at this time.”
She was talking too fast. Glad to see her electronics where and how they belonged. She hadn’t even noticed them the day before.
But the rapid speech was more a result of the tsunami of sexual desire that had hit her on the stairs.
Mitchell Colton? Really?
Good to know her spirits had a sense of humor. And were using it to help her get through the process that lay immediately ahead.
“You have cleaning supplies around here?”
Even Mitchell’s voice was sending pleasant shivers through her. With a grin, and a quick thanks to the loved ones she couldn’t see, Dove bent to the cupboard below her laptop and pulled out a bucket filled with environmentally friendly cleansers, sponges and towels.
Pulling out a filled spray bottle and a couple of cloths, she passed the rest to the man who’d come up to the counter beside her. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah! Fine!” Her tone was a little on the squeaky side. He didn’t know her well enough to know that, though. “Just eager to get this done, for obvious reasons, of course,” she said as she sprayed and dropped to her knees to get the smears of what appeared to be ketchup off her cupboard. “Let’s get to work. I want to hear your ideas and will do whatever it takes to implement them as soon as possible.”
She might not be able prevent some of the things that happened around her or even, in part, to her. But she did have control over her own response to them. And of the thoughts and topics that she allowed to hold her focus. She could refuse to linger on that which brought negative energy into her heart. To replace such things with positive thoughts that were also relevant.
Like the fact that Mitchell Colton had ideas to help her save her father’s business. And that nothing within her own minimally lucrative business had been damaged. Cleanup only cost a few dollars in supplies. And some elbow grease.
Her sound system and laptop, which could have imposed prohibitive costs, were fine.
So thinking, she stood, cued up the playlist that had come to her during her pre-cleanup meditation that morning. And focused on the golden glow that shone from the wood of her cupboards as they became cleaner than they’d been since she’d first rented the place.
She should have thought to polish them sooner.
And had just found a reason to be thankful that some unknown entity had spurred her on to getting it done.
