A Home of Her Own. Brenda Novak

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A Home of Her Own - Brenda Novak Mills & Boon Cherish

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But donning Mike’s clothes seemed rather personal, considering who they both were, and his sweats were way too big for her. She decided to pull on one of the layers of clothes she’d peeled off before getting into the tub. She thought it might help her remember that she needed to keep up her defenses, that Mike was not her friend.

      “There you are,” he said as she entered a large country kitchen with wood paneling and flooring and a table that could seat at least twelve people.

      His eyes flicked over her stocking-clad feet, faded jeans and burgundy sweater; if he noticed that she’d chosen not to wear his sweats, he didn’t comment. “Hungry?”

      She was famished but also leery of his sudden hospitality. “You didn’t have to cook,” she said.

      “What have you had to eat?”

      “Some trail mix, an energy bar and sunflower seeds.”

      “That’s it? Since when?”

      “Noon yesterday.”

      “God, you must be starving.” He motioned to the table. “Sit down. It’s almost ready.”

      She looked around as she made her way to the table, feeling as though she’d just infiltrated the enemy camp. She’d often wondered what Mike’s place would be like. While hiding in the barn, she’d seen people come and go from here, imagined it’d be rustic and comfortable, and she wasn’t disappointed. In a word, his house was quality, yet nothing seemed ostentatious or even new. The kitchen, with its big circular rug, white cabinets and stainless steel appliances—indeed the whole house—was simple, masculine, lived-in and clean.

      “Where are your brothers these days?” Mike asked as he put a heaping plate of bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns with onions in front of her.

      “Sean is married and living in Seattle.”

      “Ketchup?”

      She nodded and reached for the bottle.

      “And Kyle?”

      “Kyle’s married, too, and living in Spokane,” she said, keeping her focus on the ketchup she was squeezing onto her potatoes.

      “They both wound up in Washington? What took them there?”

      “It wasn’t here.”

      He capped the ketchup for her, then watched her eat, which made her so nervous she could hardly taste her food. At least the potatoes she shoveled down stopped the hunger pangs.

      “Why didn’t you follow them?” he asked after a few moments.

      “To Washington?”

      “Yeah.”

      She’d always been an outsider, in one way or another, and that held true even with her brothers. They were male, closer in age, less sensitive, and had the same father. They’d weathered their childhood by sheltering together while she’d forged on alone. For whatever reason, the quiet closeness and understanding they shared seemed to exclude her. “I don’t know,” she said. “I visit them once in a while, though.”

      “You seem to visit lots of places. You just never stay for long.”

      She thought she heard censure in his tone and couldn’t help bristling. “Maybe I like to travel,” she said flippantly. But it was a lie. She hated the lack of direction in her life, the temporary nature of everything she did. She just didn’t fit in anywhere, had nothing to cling to. What else could she do? Mike, on the other hand, had no reason to leave Dundee. He had family here, a thriving business, many friends, respect. He had a home.

      Silence fell and she looked up to find him watching her closely. “What?”

      “I wasn’t criticizing you.”

      She swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “What were you doing?”

      “I guess I was asking why you haven’t settled down.”

      “I’m…still young.” She searched for a more credible reason, but she had difficulty coming up with one. Bottom line, Morris’s money was both a blessing and a curse. Because she didn’t have to earn a living, she didn’t need to keep a job or go to school, two major activities that kept other people from rambling around the way she did. “And…I like to travel.”

      He leaned back and crossed his booted feet. “You mentioned that.”

      “Right. Well…” She shrugged.

      “No men in your life?”

      “Aren’t you going to eat?”

      “Is that an attempt to dodge my question?”

      “What do you think?”

      “I think moving so often must be hell on your love life.”

      “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not seeing anyone right now.” She’d never really had a serious relationship. She ended up comparing all the men she met to a cowboy she’d once seen kissing a woman in a barn—the same cowboy who was feeding her right now.

      “That surprises me.”

      She played with her toast. “Why?”

      He didn’t answer right away. When she glanced up, she could tell that the tenor of the conversation had changed.

      “Isn’t it obvious?” he said.

      Unless she was mistaken, she read appreciation in his eyes—the same kind of appreciation she saw when she crossed a crowded nightclub and a man at the bar turned to watch her. Maybe Mike didn’t like her, but he found her attractive. The chubby, ugly girl who’d mooned over him all those years had finally caught his eye….

      Lucky’s heart started to pound at the realization, and she put down her fork. Their eyes met, and he gave her a sexy grin that went to her head quicker than a whole bottle of champagne.

      Oh, God! He was flirting with her. On one level, she knew she shouldn’t be surprised. A lot of men tried to pick her up. The fact that she was so aloof, that she protected herself too well to let anyone close, seemed to draw them. They liked the challenge—but the idea of responding to any of them left her cold.

      That wasn’t the case tonight.

      But this was Mike Hill. His entire family would hate him just for being seen with her. And a man with Mike’s good looks, sharp mind and impressive accomplishments wasn’t single at forty without being hard to catch. Especially in Dundee, where life was all about getting married and having babies. Obviously, he had commitment issues. She had problems, too: deep down she was still the same little girl who secretly worshipped him.

      She had to be careful, play it safe. Otherwise an already difficult visit to her hometown might become intolerable. “It’s late,” she said, looking away. “We’d better go to bed.”

      He stood and gathered up her dishes. “Right. You can have the spare room you changed in before your bath.”

      “Thank

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