her wet jeans, socks and tank, she wrapped the bra inside the wad of clothes and stepped barefoot from the bathroom.
Thankfully, her phone was okay. No messages from Sadie, so Alexa would check in later. She’d only been gone a few hours, so checking in now would seem overbearing...though she probably would’ve already done so had this little predicament with Hayes not presented itself.
Hayes stood in the kitchen with his back to her, the coffeepot in the corner brewing to life. The sight of that broad back had her clutching her wet clothes and willing herself to calm down. He was just a man. A really sexy, intriguing, frustrating man who’d stared at her lips and stripped his shirt off in front of her.
“Can I throw these in?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flared slightly when he raked his gaze over her body. Yeah, his 2X shirt was nearly to her knees. Apparently he needed this size to accommodate those muscles, but she was neither muscular nor tall, so she looked utterly ridiculous. But she was dry and that’s what mattered.
“I’ll take them.”
When he started toward her, she shook her head. “I can do it.”
“Have a seat and give me the clothes. I’ve seen women’s underwear before.”
Of course he’d know why she was clutching her things like a lifeline. “Well, you haven’t seen mine.”
Not a smile or a comment from him as he took her things and disappeared into the utility room. Alexa crossed to the coffeepot and nearly groaned at the glorious smell. She glanced at the bag on the counter and didn’t recognize the brand. Probably something she couldn’t just pick up in the corner market. The Elliotts probably had minions to handpick their coffee beans and make a special roast just for them.
She glanced around, surprised she’d missed the French press on the counter. This kitchen had an expensive coffee maker and a French press? Well, he apparently had his priorities in order.
“They should be done in about forty minutes,” he told her as he came back in.
“The rain hasn’t let up,” she commented as she stared out the large window over the sink. “The sky is getting darker, too.”
Not a good sign. Not good at all.
“I drove my truck down to the stables before riding the horses here with you and most everyone else on the ranch is gone for the day,” he muttered, as if wondering how the hell to get her back to the other side of the property in the middle of this storm.
A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. Now she was being mocked by Mother Nature. Apparently there was no good way to get back to a vehicle that could take her to the B and B.
Alexa wrapped her arms around her waist and glanced around the room. This was all so...awkward for her. She had a small town house in Stone River and lived with an infant. But here she was thrust into the country, into an old family home with a sexy man and wearing his clothes, which smelled far too fabulous. Part of her couldn’t help but think back to another man and another T-shirt she used to wear.
But that was a lifetime ago and she was in a whole new world. Everything here was so foreign, yet so familiar. From the masculine scent to the intimacy of the moment to the rush of adrenaline when Hayes had been staring at her lips out in the rain.
“You’re not afraid of storms are you?”
Hayes’s question pulled her from her thoughts. The way he studied her from across the room had her wondering if he always stared with such intensity.
“No, no.”
Silence settled heavy between them and Alexa didn’t know how to keep this situation from getting more uncomfortable.
Smoothing her damp hair away from her face, Alexa met Hayes’s steady stare. “Don’t let me get in your way,” she told him. “I can sit here and drink coffee and you can do...whatever it is that you do.”
He continued to stare, not showing an ounce of emotion. “I don’t do much other than renovate this place when I’m not working on the ranch.”
He worked? Like, manual labor? Alexa knew the Elliotts were well-known ranchers, but she figured they handled the glamorous side of things and hired out all the work.
“Well, point me toward the coffee mugs and I can take it from there. I’ll just wait for the storm to pass.”
Hayes stared another minute, then turned to the cabinet to pull her down a navy mug. He set it on the counter and walked out of the room.
Alexa simply stood there, staring at the now empty hallway. Apparently Hayes wasn’t in the hosting mood. Oh well, she’d told him to go about his business and clearly that’s what he intended to do.
Fine by her. She didn’t want to annoy him any more than she apparently already had.
Hayes flattened his palms on his desk and blew out a sigh. What the hell was he doing?
Not that he had much choice in what to do next with his unexpected guest. He might want to be left alone to battle his demons and renovate his home, but he couldn’t be a jerk. That’s not how he’d been raised. The Elliott boys had been taught how to treat people, and women were always treated with the utmost respect. His father had handled his marriage as if Hayes’s mother was royalty.
Which was why Hayes had had to walk out of the kitchen. Because Alexa standing there in his clothes was too damn tempting. He respected her, even though she was driving him insane. Walking away was his only option.
While he wouldn’t mind a little stress reliever in the most primal, old-fashioned way, something about her screamed innocence and vulnerability. He could find a better use for that sassy mouth of hers, but yet again, that desire waved every red flag inside his mind.
Yes, he wanted the hell out of her, but that was just lust. Alexa didn’t seem like the type to give in to lustful feelings.
Unless properly persuaded.
He deliberately turned his thoughts to the storm. The rain pounded against the windows and the thunder continued to roll every few minutes. Thankfully, it wasn’t booming. An occasional streak of lightning flashed across the sky. No, this storm wasn’t letting up anytime soon. He’d thought for sure it wasn’t going to do anything until tomorrow.
His eyes landed on the piece of mail he’d attempted to ignore. The governor had chosen the wrong recipient for the Man of Honor award.
This was a new award and apparently Hayes had been the first choice. When they’d called him last week to inform him, he’d been numb, shocked, then angry. Hayes didn’t want a damn award for serving his country. He didn’t want to be recognized because he’d been the only one in his platoon to survive. His busted-up knee was nothing compared to what his brothers had gone through.
Pushing away from his desk, he turned and headed out of his office and down the hall to the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was to see that damn gold-embossed invitation.
