Larger Than Life by Alison Kent (bill gates books recommendations .TXT) 📗

was real." Candy rambled on, looking at her coffee while she doctored it up. "I was there last night when he drove up like some badass Lone Ranger. His arm might be in a sling, and he might be walking like a duck, but that man is like no man I've ever seen before. And when he climbed down from his ride"—she shook her head, clicked her tongue—"you could see Holden and Yancey trembling in their boots."

Oh, yes. A moment worth reliving. Neva had done so at least two dozen times. "Holden doesn't wear boots, Candy. What have you been smoking?"

Candy pointed over her shoulder towards the hall. "Obviously not the good stuff because for the life of me, I can't figure why you had that sexy thing spend the night in your guest room with no one but you in the house. You don't even know the man."

"He wasn't in any shape to drive. Like you said, he can barely walk." Though she wouldn't have compared his hobble to a duck's, the "sexy thing" tag fit. Boy, did it fit, Neva thought, and sighed.

"He could've bunked in the Barn."

"With you?"

"No, Neva. Upstairs. In one of the dorm rooms."

Neva narrowed her eyes. "No one knows about the dorm rooms, Candy. You know that. Having a stranger staying there hardly makes sense."

"Yeah, but still. You should've had me come up and sleep on the sofa. Make sure that locked door of yours stayed locked." Cradling her mug in both hands, Candy raised a questioning brow. "Though with all the lady's protesting, I'm beginning to wonder if your guest was the only one sleeping in the guest room."

"Yes. He was. Unless you count the dog."

At Mick's voice, Neva cringed, glared at Candy, then turned. This morning he wore a black T-shirt and loose khaki fatigues. That was it. His bare feet made her smile. "Good morning. Did we wake you?"

He shook his head. "The dog did. He needed out. Plus, I thought I smelled coffee."

Candy got to her feet. "There. Sit." She pointed to her empty chair. "I'll pour you a cup. Black, right?"

Mick was still rubbing at his eyes. "How'd you know?"

"You look like a man who likes it black."

Neva buried her face in her hands, peeking at Mick from between spread fingers, and taking hold of her coffee again at his grin. "You'll have to excuse Candy. As the token black woman in town, she takes her role seriously. Thinks it's her duty to embarrass us ignorant pasty types."

"Only the ugly ones," Candy said amiably, setting Mick's coffee in front of him. "You, I was flirting with."

Mick's deep laugh rumbled straight through Neva, more effective at waking her up than the caffeine. From the appreciative gleam in Candy's eyes, she wasn't immune to the jolting thrill, either.

Neva glared up at her best friend. "Don't you have work to do?"

Candy blinked, then returned the carafe to the burner. "Sure I do. We both do. But all work and no play makes for one cranky bitch." On her way out of the kitchen, she paused at the doorway with a final word for Mick. "Think you can do something about that, mate?"

I'll kill her, Neva thought, her face heating.

Once Candy was gone, Mick glanced over. "I don't want to keep you from your work." He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "I've got plenty of daylight and time to find a motel or campground. Say the word and I'll hit the road."

If he'd said one word about playing, she would've booted him out on his ass. But his expression was carefully blank. And she didn't want him to go. She'd examine why later. "You could do that. Or you could stay in bed and catch up on the rest your body needs."

"I won't be in your way?"

"As long as you stay out of my office, I don't see how you could be. Unless ..." She sipped at her coffee.

He sipped at his. "Unless what?"

She threaded the fingers of one hand back through her hair, pushing it away from her forehead. "If you felt up to it, I could use a hand finishing up the packing and shipping Liberty never got done. They're small boxes, nothing you'd have to lift."

"Sure. Sounds like the perfect job for the walking wounded. Pay off a bit of this room and board."

She frowned. "Mick, I don't expect payment in return for a kindness."

Mick set his mug down on the table, left his hands there, his fingers spread wide. "All the places I've been, all the people I've known, I don't think I've ever run into anyone as kind as you are, Neva Case."

Dear Lord. That was not how she wanted him to see her. Not at all. "Don't make me out to be a saint just because I let you kiss me. I'm anything but."

"What are you then? A rescuer of road kill and runaways?" He looked up, the light in his eyes stopping her before she could answer. "By the way. I was there for that kiss. You were the one kissing me."

"She wasn't a runaway. Just a confused young girl. But yes. I do have a soft spot for anyone suffering misfortune." She waited . .. waited .. . went for it. "Even men who don't understand the subtleties of a kiss."

He almost choked. "You thought that kiss was subtle?"

"That's not what I said." Oh, but he was good. "I said there were subtleties involved."

"Seemed pretty straightforward to me."

"Of course it would. You're a man."

That had him frowning. "It's not the terminal condition you're making it out to be."

"See? Subtleties." He might be good, but she was better. "I happen to love men. Men make the world go round."

Mick shook his head, huffed. "That's because trying to figure out women keeps us spinning. Some of us keep doing it from the grave."

"Ha." She sat back, crossed her arms. "If anything has you spinning, it's all the exaggerating you do."

His head bobbed as he thought,