Motor City Fae Read Online Free PDF Page B

as if he was reading her mind. “Can I come in? Please? I brought coffee.”
    She couldn’t refuse him, damn it. He sounded too sincere and his kiss had been too darned hot. “Oh, all right. I’ll be down in two minutes.” She slammed the phone down and dragged on a pair of red running shorts, which probably clashed horribly with the orange and blue Detroit Tigers T-shirt she’d been sleeping in. She shook out her snarled-up hair and sighed. There was no way she was going to be able to untangle it without a shower.
    Grabbing an elastic band, she pulled the curling mess back into a haphazard ponytail as she scrambled down the stairs. She paused in the bathroom long enough to use the facilities and brush her teeth.
    “Only salesmen and other psychos are up this early. You’d better not be an axe murderer or anything,” she grumbled as she opened the door after disarming the alarm. “If you kill me, I swear I’ll haunt you and make the rest of your life miserable. Same goes if you try to sell me life insurance.”
    He paused on the threshold, clearly fighting a laugh. “I hope that’s an invitation, of sorts. I come bearing gifts.”
    True to his word, there were large take-out cups in both hands. A paper grocery sack with handles dangled from one wrist. He looked too good to be true, even dressed more casually than the day before. His jeans were well worn and fit perfectly, showing off more of his sleek physique than yesterday’s chinos. The dark green polo shirt looked as soft as silk and molded his chest like he was the model the designer had intended it for.
    He was so well put together that she felt even rattier by comparison, damn it. No one should look that good this early.
    “All right already. Come in, already. Sheesh, what are you, a vampire?” He was certainly good looking enough and weren’t they the ones who had to wait for permission to enter a house?
    Nah, couldn’t be. It was a bright, shiny summer morning. Yuck.
    He gave her a brief, twisty grin. “No, merely a guy who knows he has ground to make up after running off on you last night.”
    Her traitorous cat was twining about the man’s ankles, rubbing his head on Ric’s faded jeans.
    She stepped aside to let him in and he handed her one of the cups. “Smells good. Too bad I can’t stand the stuff.” She handed it back.
    His eyes widened in horror. “You don’t drink coffee?”
    “Nope.” She sent him a nasty smirk, enjoying his momentary discomfiture. “Love the smell, hate the taste. Thanks for the thought, though.” She waved him through her tiny living room into the even smaller kitchen. “You go ahead and get started; I’m going to make some tea.”
    Glowering, he preceded her into the kitchen.
    “Things-You-Didn’t-Know-About-Meagan 101,” she announced, following him through the archway. She grabbed the teakettle off the stove, ran fresh water into it before putting it back on the burner. “Meagan hates coffee. Violently. Also, I am not in any way a morning person. At all. In my reality, civilized conversation does not occur before noon. Ever.”
    “But you said you had an early meeting this morning.”
    His height and the intensity of his presence filled the tiny room, crowding her, even though she was several feet away.
    He didn’t seem to notice. He plunked the bag and cups on the table and dropped into a chair, looking as comfortable as if he’d been there a hundred times. He didn’t seem to mind when the cat hopped into his lap. He stroked the furry beast’s ear as though they’d been friends forever.
    After setting the kettle on the burner she turned to glare at him, hands on hips. “I lied.”
    “Okay.” That didn’t bother him either. Jeez, what would it take to get a rise out of this guy? She couldn’t handle him before caffeine, that much was certain.
    She turned her back again to dig mug, strainer and tea leaves out of the cupboard, and spoke over her shoulder.
    “The orange furball is named