Incidental Contact (Those Devilish De Marco Men) by Eden Connor Read Free Book Online Page A

Here,”—he slung her duffle over her shoulder—“put your stuff in the loft. Let me start the fire.”
    See, he’s just acting like a big brother.
    He let his hand slide down her arm. “Then, we’ll see about your first demand.”
    Okay, not like a big brother. Confused as hell, she skirted the sofa. Running up the stairs, she prayed the loft wasn’t where he stored those greasy car parts.
    On the top step, Amy froze, gazing around. A single bed was tucked into an alcove. A quilt made from dark blue and white calico, tufted with thick red twine, covered the mattress. Shelves had been set into the wall on both ends of the bed. A pair of cone-shaped light fixtures mounted over the bed flared to life when she flipped the switch, casting a bright glow. What a great place to curl up and study. The charming nook appeared so serene and restful, her doubts began to recede.
    Though the lack of walls was disconcerting, she didn’t think it was possible to see into the loft from the ground floor. Worn out from weeks spent sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa, she resolved to make this work.
    She tossed her bags on the bed and tiptoed to peer over the railing. Eric knelt before the hearth, chunking lengths of split wood into the stove. With the touch of a long lighter, he lit the fire before looking up. “I put a chicken pie in the oven. Is that okay?”
    “Did Cynda make it?” She wrinkled her nose. “Lila puts mushrooms in hers.”
    He smiled like someone handed him beaters dripping with chocolate icing. “Hell, no. Grams made it.”
    Grams was Cynda’s grandmother. Her chicken pie was worthy of a medal. Amy nearly salivated. Her tummy gave a growl. “How long till that’s ready?” She was torn between starting her studies and going downstairs to be sociable. Ha! Sociable.
    Temperatures had been below thirty all week. If those pretty white flakes kept falling, businesses and schools—especially schools—would close till the weather improved. Her tummy seemed to jackknife over the railing.
    He straightened. “Maybe twenty more minutes. My microwave died. I haven’t gotten around to buying a new one yet. The floors down here have radiant heat. In case you get hungry at night and the fire’s gone out, your feet won’t freeze. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll have the chill knocked off the place.” He moved to the staircase. She could hear him rummage in a drawer while she plugged her laptop and phone in to charge. She set her alarm clock on the shelf and tossed her toothbrush, toothpaste, and comb onto the shelf below.
    Unpacked, there was nothing left to do, other than go downstairs. Besides, she needed to dig clothes for the next day out of her trunk. What could she wear to talk to the mall guy? Her referee’s uniform would work. She didn’t need a damn dress for that.
    He waved a flashlight when she reached the ground floor. “Here ya go.”
    Before she could wrap her fingers around the metal canister, he pulled the light back. “I thought about this all the way home. Our deal can work. I mean, I’ve got ex-girlfriends coming out of my ears. They only wanna get back together so they can help me spend that damn insurance money. And if you’re trying to piss Drew off. I guarantee, I’m the right man for that job.” He drew an X over his heart with his forefinger. “And I will teach you to feel sexy. Cross my heart.”
    Drew bitched whenever Amy spent time with Lila, once he’d learned the widow had moved in with Colton. In fact, he disliked all of the De Marcos. He called them redneck pretty boys and said Eric, in particular, was dumber than dirt.
    Eric might not be ambitious, but she didn’t think he was dumb. According to Lila, he’d designed Colton’s bungalow and this cabin.
    “So... you’re gonna teach me to feel sexy, and I’m supposed to scare off all interested females?” She hoped she sounded calm, but inside her mind, she was screaming. What am I doing? For starters, I can’t hold up my