welcome.” Ben tugged one of her pigtails.
Her elbows resting on the cart handle, Kezia watched their interaction with an “aw, how touching” look on her face. But bent forward, she unintentionally exposed the curve of her breast and a sliver of black lace beneath her top’s low neckline. The lust-stick walloped him upside the head, and the corner of his mouth tugged up in a goofy smile.
His gaze tracked upward to the thick sweep of her lashes, which almost touched her pinked cheeks. She straightened, severing their sizzling eye-contact and murmuring in Italian to Zoe.
Busted...but come on. Couldn’t blame a guy for looking at such a beautiful woman.
Maybe he could learn to appreciate shopping after all.
***
Kezia dropped the shopping bags with the day’s spoils in her kitchen corner, and the girls disappeared into Zoe’s bedroom. Ben had helped them disembark on the wharf and returned his boat to its mooring spot, while she walked with the girls to her place to get them out of the cold.
With the kitchen warm and welcoming, bliss oozed through her veins as she stuffed her feet into comfy slippers. After tying an apron around her waist, she stoked up the wood burner and unpacked her groceries. While Russell’s grocery store in town provided the basic necessities, no one turned down the opportunity to load up on luxuries when they visited a mainland supermarket.
A knock sounded at the back door.
Her fingers clutched tight around the last jar as she slipped it into the pantry. “Come on in.”
She wiped her palms down her apron. Ridiculous—the man had been in her home many times. Granted, she was often out when Ben came by to see his sister, but still…
Ben kicked off his black sneakers and strode barefoot into the kitchen, a knot of shopping bags clutched in each hand. He placed them alongside hers in the corner. “The girls okay?”
“In Zoe’s room with a board game.”
“That’s good. Sorry I took so long.” He wandered over to her wood burner and cranked open the door.
Such a guy. Drawn to fiddle with anything on fire, as if it were his Neanderthal duty.
“Fire’s going well. It’s warm in here.”
He wrestled his fleece hoodie up and over his head. His tee shirt crackled and rose with static, exposing muscle-ripped abs. A dusting of black hair traced a line south of his stomach and disappeared beneath his faded jeans. Her gaze slipped lower—oh yes, much lower. Down below his waistband to the faded denim cupping him so intimately.
OhgoodLordhavemercy.
It really was a lot warmer in here now.
Kezia crossed to the row of cabinets beside the stove and retrieved a glass with shaky fingers. She filled it with water, ignoring the rustle of Ben’s clothing being adjusted as she sipped.
“Sexy slippers you’ve got there, Kez.” His voice, low and intimate, came from almost directly behind her. “They suit you.”
A little water got sucked up her nose and she coughed. Kezia took another calmer sip, narrowly avoiding a coughing fit, and looked down. The grey slippers, shaped into the 3D face of Shrek’s Donkey, were hardly a turn on. Not that she wanted to turn him on. Ben was a friend, well…kind of friend—more like a friendly acquaintance.
Then why had she changed her clothes five times that morning? If she’d gone to Invercargill with Ford, Oban’s mechanic, or Kip, Due South’s barman—men she also considered friendly acquaintances—she would’ve tossed on th e first outfit in her wardrobe.
Idio ta woman. Vanity, that was all.
Blushing and choking was a normal feminine rea ction to an attractive male while wearing cartoon slippers. The glass rattled against her teeth, and she returned it to the counter before she hurt herself.
“Are you calling me a donkey, Ben Harland?”
His grin revved her pulse rate. “Now Ms. Murphy, would I do that?”
He moved out of her personal space and helped hi mself to a glass. “I know how ruthless you can be when