Long Time Coming. Rochelle Alers
have a parking ticket I need you to fix for me.”
Micah went completely still. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not,” she replied, her voice even and her expression deadpan.
“I can’t help you. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
A hint of a smile touched Tessa’s lips. Micah Sanborn had just gone up several more notches in her approval category. He was no doubt quite ethical.
“And I wouldn’t want you to.”
He lifted black expressive eyebrows. “Then why did you ask me to help you?” His gaze narrowed. “You were testing me,” Micah said intuitively as she placed a hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles. Tessa nodded. “And did I pass?”
Lowering her hand, she placed it on his shoulder, feeling the heat from his skin through his shirt. “Yes, you did.”
“What do I get as a prize?”
She angled her head. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll come up with something appropriate.”
“If you can’t come up with anything, then may I make a suggestion?”
Sobering, Tessa kept her features deceptively composed. Seeing Micah in the light, albeit artificial, had changed her opinion of his looks. He was handsome and very sexy, the combination having a lethal effect on her senses. Before the loss of electricity she hadn’t been able to glimpse the attractive slashes in his lean cheeks, the stubborn set of a strong chin and the smooth texture of his close-cropped hair.
“What?” The single word came out in a breathless whisper.
“Let me return the favor of you cooking for me by taking you out to dinner.”
“I…I can’t,” she stuttered.
“Why can’t you? It’s only dinner.”
She flushed like a nervous schoolgirl and remained silent for several seconds, pondering how she was going to reject Micah’s offer when she knew she would continue to come into contact with him until his sister’s wedding.
“I don’t date.” The three words rushed out of their own volition.
“You don’t date?”
The heat in her face increased. “What I mean is that I don’t date or get involved with a client or anyone associated with that client. It’s not good for business.” Her gaze was drawn to his teeth when he smiled. “What’s so funny?”
Micah dipped his head. “You are,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m not asking you out on a date or to get involved. I just want to repay you for your very gracious offer. You didn’t have to share your food with me.”
“What did you expect me to do? Show you the door?”
“You could’ve, but you didn’t.”
There was a spark of some indefinable emotion in the dark eyes staring at Tessa, and in a moment of madness everything she professed about maintaining a professional perspective toward her clients was forgotten.
“Okay. I’ll go out to dinner with you.”
Micah wondered why it sounded as if Tessa were doing him a favor when he’d felt as if it were the reverse. He did want to repay her for sharing her dinner, but what he couldn’t admit to her and didn’t want to admit to himself was that Tessa Whitfield fascinated him.
She was beautiful, intelligent, reserved and confident. At forty-one, he’d known his share of women, but there was something about the wedding planner that was different from any other woman he’d ever known.
He inclined his head. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? It will be at your convenience—of course.”
Tessa visually traced the outline of his mobile mouth and said, “Of course.”
She felt the heat of Micah’s midnight gaze on her back as she went in search of Irena Cleary, silently berating herself for breaking her own rule. She’d lost count of the number of men who’d tried coming on to her since she’d established Signature Bridals with her sister and cousin—men she normally wouldn’t have met if not for her business.
Once burned, twice shy.
She’d gotten in over her head with Bryce Hill, but swore it would never happen again with another man.
Tessa found Jackson’s wife Irena in the kitchen. Pregnant with her third and what she claimed was her last baby, the elementary school teacher was engaged in a heated conversation with her preteen daughter, who wanted to know why she couldn’t invite her friends over to the impromptu cookout.
Turning on her heel, Tessa retraced her steps. She didn’t want to witness what was certain to become a volatile confrontation between mother and daughter. She remembered her own disagreements with her mother, but it always ended with Lucinda declaring, I had you, not the other way around, so that makes me the boss of you. And it wasn’t until she’d matured that Tessa realized every decision her mother had made on her behalf was for her daughters’ benefit and protection.
Returning to the backyard, she saw Micah with Jackson Cleary, the two men standing apart from the others and deep in conversation. She was stuck in the dark with a former New York City police officer who’d taken an oath to protect and serve.
She smiled.
How lucky could she get?
Hours later, Tessa unlocked the door to her home and found the dark silence eerie. It was after eleven; the block party had wound down and her neighbors had retreated to their darkened residences.
She handed Micah his suit jacket, the lingering scent of his cologne still wafting in her nostrils. “You’re welcome to hang out here until the power comes back or sunrise. Whatever comes first,” she added.
Raising the flashlight, Micah stared at Tessa, photographing her with his eyes. Slowly, seductively, his gaze slid downward to the hollow of her throat, where a runaway pulse revealed she wasn’t as composed as she appeared.
“Thank you.”
“Come upstairs with me.”
He didn’t move. “That’s all right. I’ll hang out down here.”
“You can’t hang out down here because there’s no place for you to lie down, and I don’t think you’d want to spend the night sitting up in a chair.” Tessa extended her hand. “I’m going to need the flashlight.”
They climbed the staircase together. There was only the sound of their footsteps muffled in the carpeting on the stairs and the rhythmic ticking of the massive grandfather clock in a corner at the top of the staircase. The narrow beam of light illuminated the Oriental runner on the second-story parquet floor hallway. Tessa led the way into her bedroom, stopped and turned to face Micah.
“You can sleep in here.”
He frowned. “Where are you going to sleep?”
“I’ll be in one of the guest bedrooms.”
“Why can’t I sleep in the guest room?”
Her frown matched his. “Are you always so contrary, Micah?”
His frown deepened. “You think I’m contrary?”
“Yes,” she countered. “Everything I suggest, you refute. I’m offering you my bedroom because it has the largest bed and I believe you would be more comfortable sleeping in a king rather than a full-or twin-size bed.”
Micah’s expression softened. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your hospitality, but I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Everyone affected by this blackout is inconvenienced. We’re lucky because we could’ve been trapped in a subway tunnel