Excerpt from Hard to Handle
Excerpt ThreeIn a snowy white undershirt, black boxers and thick white crew socks, he seated himself in a fancy padded chair at her round dining table. Wind continued to whistle outside; inside, the fragrance of burning wood and warm cookies created a coziness unfamiliar to him.
“Do you have heat other than the woodstove?”
“Same as you,” she said. “I have electric space heaters. But I like the scent of a wood fire better. Problem is, the heat from the wood stove doesn’t warm my bedroom enough, so sometimes, when it’s really cold, I crash on the couch.”
Harley glanced at the couch, pictured her curled up there in something soft and warm, and said, “I’d never fit.”
Her laugh drew his attention back to her.
“You weren’t invited,” she said, “but no, I don’t suppose a man of your size would have room to stretch out on the couch.”
Rather than put a filled mug on the table in front of him, Anastasia went to the trouble to fill a decorative tray with a carafe, cups, saucers, cream and sugar, cookies, spoons and cloth napkins. The formality of it surprised Harley, yet he sensed it was routine for her.
“Cream and sugar?”
“I take mine black.” He waited while she served him like a proper little host, then he sipped the coffee. “Perfect. Strong, the way I like it.”
“Me, too.” She lifted the plate of cookies, but hesitated. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Can you have cookies while training?”
“You know I’m in training?”
She tipped her head. “Was it a secret?”
“No.”
“Everyone around here knows it, Harley. You’re a celebrity.”
“I doubt that.”
“Now, come on. There’s no need for modesty. You know you have a recognizable name.”
“Maybe to some sports fans, but it’s a limited audience.”
“If you say so.” She let it go with a shrug. “So tell me, will a cookie blow any special diets?”
Harley was fanatical about staying in shape, even when not training, but he wasn’t stupid. “I’m not about to turn down warm fresh cookies.”
She smiled so big, her deep brown eyes twinkled with golden lights. “Good. Then I’ll give you three.”
For several minutes, they ate and sipped coffee in comfortable silence. That in itself was odd, because other than relatives, or his friends’ significant others, Harley didn’t indulge platonic relationships.
And that meant other than during sex, which was seldom quiet, he didn’t indulge comfortable silences with women. But with Anastasia, it felt... okay.
Probably because she acted just as his female relatives did: disinterested in him as a man.
The sun broke free of the clouds, glaring through the windows extra bright as it reflected off the ice.
“Speaking of your training...”
“Were we?” He ate another cookie. Heaven.
“As often as you’ve stayed here, I never realized you got up so early to train.”
“I keep irregular hours.” Harley caught her in his gaze, and lowered his voice. “But this morning, I wasn’t training.”
“Oh, I just assumed...” Realization hit her, and she ducked her face to hide her smile. “Never mind, then.”
Harley watched her. She looked very sweet and enticing in the pink sweatshirt. He never prompted an intrusion on his privacy, but now, he couldn’t help himself. “Why does that amuse you?”
“It’s just that I should have known.”
She acted coy, not quite blushing, but close. It intrigued him. “Known what, exactly?”
Propping her chin on a fist, Anastasia grinned at him. “The town is small, hardly a town even, and not much goes unnoticed. Someone like you definitely wouldn’t be overlooked, which means everyone pays attention to you, and... well, you’ve gained a... certain reputation around here.”
Harley liked the way she teased – though he’d be willing to bet she had no solid information on him. “A reputation, huh? For what?”
“Being a lady’s man, of course.”
As he thought: no real idea at all. Harley lifted his coffee cup to sip. “Have you been listening to gossip, Anastasia?”
“Gossip? No, more like bragging.” She chuckled. “In the grocery store.”
Curiosity got the better of him. Harley set his coffee cup aside and crossed his arms on the tabletop. Giving
Anastasia all the intensity of his stare, he said, “Tell me.”
“Oh no.” This time, she couldn’t hold back the blush. “Not verbatim I won’t. It was a little explicit for that.”
“How explicit?”
She shook her head. “One woman wanted to know if anyone knew where you lived.”
“Who?”
“They weren’t women I recognized, so I assume they must be vacationers here for snow skiing.”
He slowly straightened. “Did you tell her?”
“Of course not. I respect your privacy.” When he relaxed again, she said, “None of the women seemed to know much about you, Harley, so you have nothing to worry about.”
What the hell had she heard, and which woman was looking for him? He always made his intents clear upfront; he’d never made any false promises.
“Forget about it, Harley. Other than that one question, I can promise you that all the chit chat was flattering.”
Because Anastasia watched him, he said, “That’s a relief.”
She laughed out loud. “Come off it, Harley. You could care less what others are saying about you.”
Harley noticed that even in harsh sunlight, her skin looked soft and smooth, and free of make-up. After her efforts outside, her hair was a little messy, and somehow sexier because of it. She had very white teeth, full lips, and a habit of wrinkling her nose when she laughed.
Odd that he’d never noticed any of those things before.
But more than that, more than his sudden attention to her physical attributes, her insight surprised him. “You think so, huh?”
“Absolutely.” And with confidence: “I’m a very good judge of character.”
“Yeah?” Harley settled back in his seat, prepared to enjoy himself. “Says who?”
Anastasia sent him a smug look. “Many satisfied clients, that’s who.”
His left brow lifted an inch in disbelief. “Clients?”
Wrinkling her nose again, Anastasia nodded. “You didn’t think I only rented out a single cabin as a living, did you? I would never be such a slug.” She curled one leg up under her. “The rental brings in a respectable income, but it’s not enough for me live the way I want to.”
“No?”
“No.” Coy again, she said, “When you’re not here, I seldom am either.”
Both brows went up over that disclosure. Confessions? Suggestions? Harley just didn’t know. But he considered hitting the road – in his boxers – right now.
Anastasia took in his expression and laughed. “Relax. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not hitting on you, Harley.”
No, she never had. He sighed. Questions popped into his mind, one right after the other, but he’d found that silence brought answers quicker than queries.
Sure enough, after a thirty-second pause, Anastasia continued. “I don’t make a habit of being here for you specifically. We just happen to share a similar appreciation of the seclusion of the place. So while I’m here, I rent out the other cabin, and you always have it on hold for this time of year, so you get it.”
“What happens the rest of the year?”
“I have a real estate manager who rents it out for me. As a life coach, it’s worth my while to travel for the job, so I do. Often.”
How had he known her three years, and never heard of this? “A life coach, huh? That’s...different.”
“I guess.” She leaned closer. “Are you familiar with the concept?”
“Not really.”
Appearing anxious, she asked, “Shall I educate you, then?”
Harley could tell she wanted to, so he shrugged. “I’m all ears.”