Free Knowing You by Maureen Child Page B

so defensive?”
    She inhaled sharply and told herself it was the scent of sea air she smelled, not his spicy aftershave. Paul. It’s just Paul. Nope. Didn’t work. Because Paul was no longer just Paul. And now she was babbling even in her own head, and that couldn’t be a good sign.
    â€œBecause,” she said, moving for the door, “everyone’s always telling me that I’m nuts to give away so many baked goods to the shelter. And I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”
    She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Quickly she ran a practiced eye across the kitchen. As always, Sarah Boyd had done an excellent job. Everything was neat and tidy. Counters clean and awaiting the nextday’s work, the scent of blueberry muffins still hung in the still air.
    When Stevie stepped inside, Paul followed her and closed the door after him. She almost gulped.
    â€œI’ve never given you that speech, have I?” he asked.
    No, he hadn’t. In fact, he’d never said anything about her tendencies to give away food or coffee or take in strays. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking it, just like everyone else, up to and including her mother. “No, but—”
    â€œThat’s just who you are, Stevie.”
    She laughed shortly. “Crazy?”
    â€œKind,” he corrected.
    Her heart hiccuped. She looked at him. “It’s not kindness,” she said. “It’s just—”
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” One corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile that tugged at something deep inside her. “Compliments make you uneasy?”
    No, she thought,
Paul
made her uneasy. Which was crazy. He was her friend. Had been her friend for years. And that was something she didn’t want to lose any more than she wanted to lose her closeness with his family. Still, the way things were going, she was bound to lose one or the other.
    Setting her purse down onto the closest counter, Stevie sighed. “Paul, why did you come here tonight?”
    â€œI had to.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œTo tell you that us … seeing each other is a bad idea.”
    â€œI figured that out already. You remember? The lasttime we talked about this?” In fact, she’d spent the last couple of days thinking about little else. But somehow hearing Paul say it again really fried her. “Look. We can’t change what happened, but we can stop it from happening again.”
    â€œRight.” His voice was a caress that dripped along her spine and rolled along her nerve endings, igniting sparks of pleasure that dazzled and spun her head.
    Her breath caught in her throat and darn near strangled her. The light from outside speared through the kitchen windows in wide golden wedges. The only sound in the room was the pounding of her own heart. He took a step closer in the darkness and Stevie could have sworn she actually
felt
waves of heat rippling off his body.
    Nope. Things were way too cozy in here. All of the darkness and pretty, romantic lighting. If they weren’t careful, they might—Stevie walked around him, drew the blinds to shut out the soft lamps, and hit the light switch, flooding the room with safe, bright, unflattering fluorescent light.
    Of course, that only meant that she could see him more clearly. And what she saw in the depths of his brown eyes was enough to make her shiver in raw expectation.
    Paul took his glasses off and hooked them at the neck of his sweater. He probably shouldn’t have come here. He could have done this over the phone.
    But he’d had to see her.
    His gaze moved over her slowly, thoroughly, not missing a thing. Her blond hair was wind-ruffled, but then, he knew she liked to drive with the windows downso she could feel the air rushing past her. Her eyes looked dark and stormy and … haunted somehow. That hit him hard. He’d never meant to push her into a place that created those kinds of