He heard a chair being dragged behind him. The object of his thoughts sat down heavily, the glaring heat from her stare boring into his back. Brody grinned but still didn’t turn around, staying instead at the Coleman stove, cooking the omelets he’d whipped up using eggs he’d fetched from the coop. He’d been only moderately surprised at how well set up Hannah and her family were. Trust her to find a way to ensure she survived and stayed well fed.
Knowing her penchant for good food, he’d gotten up early to surprise her with breakfast. In the past, her good moods had often been linked to eating. What a shame that his previous method of kissing her ‘til she smiled wasn’t yet feasible. He’d spent a restless night thinking of her-how they’d touched and kissed. Brody wanted to curse when his cock got hard; somehow he didn’t think Hannah would be impressed at his lack of control.
Pity I can’t just slap my prick on a plate and offer it to her to eat. It would solve two problems at once.
Hannah watched his broad back shake as if in silent jest and resented the easy way Brody had slipped into her life in less than a day. He moved around the kitchen like he owned it, cooking on the Coleman stove with the window above it and the side door open for venting-and the food smelled heavenly too, the jerk. Leave it up to him to prepare something she hadn’t truly eaten since the power had finally given out a year or so ago.
She had yet to master the art of camp stove cooking without burning their meal. Thank god for the propane center in town they could use for refills. She just hoped she never saw it run out or they’d have to resort to a true firepit. The only thing she knew how to cook on those was marshmallows.
At least running water had never been as issue as they’d always had a well, but she did worry about the septic system one day overflowing out in the yard, a problem she hoped lay many years in the future. That and running out of toilet paper.
Watching him cook-a skill he’d acquired since his departure-she wondered what other things he’d learned while he’d been away. If Brody had actually been serious about staying, which she highly doubted, there were many things she could use help with, as much as it galled her to ask. Even if she had no interest in hooking up, it wouldn’t hurt to milk him for all the practical knowledge and muscle he had to offer in the meantime.
“Oh my god, Hannah. Did you finally learn to cook?” Beth came in looking fresh and cute in short shorts with a blouse tied at her midriff that made Hannah gnash her teeth. Since when did Bethie come to breakfast dressed like a tart?
“Hope you’re hungry,” said Brody, turning to face them with two steaming plates. With a wink for Hannah and a smile for Beth, he laid the plates on the table and turned to fix a third.
Hannah hopped up to grab the plate from Brody to take Fred who found mornings hard, but Beth beat her to it. With a simpering smile, she took it from Brody and sashayed away, her pert butt swinging in shorts that Hannah could have sworn were longer last week.
To his credit, Brody didn’t watch Beth’s little show; instead he dumped the rest of the food he’d made into a pile on his plate and sat down at the table-a table which suddenly seemed too small.
Hannah tried to ignore him, shoveling the delicious eggs into her mouth with enthusiasm, but she couldn’t help the awareness that crept through her body, causing her to flush. She refused to look at him though, even when she felt his curious gaze upon her.
Beth flounced back into the kitchen and flopped into her chair. In between forkfuls, she chattered inanely, and Brody, seeming preoccupied, answered her. Hannah did her best not to react to his rumbling tone, but tingles ran up and down her flesh, sensitizing her.
Annoyed, she rudely interrupted their pointless conversation. “If you’re going to be sticking around then you’re going to need to pitch in.” She finally looked him in the face when she said this and saw his blue eyes twinkle with mirth.
“I fully intend to do my part. I told you, I’m here for the long haul. Anything in particular that you’d like me to start with?”
“Chain saw.” Hannah blurted the word out and then blushed at his puzzled look. “We need wood, and I can’t start the damned thing. We’ll need several cords for the winter.”
“What have you been doing up ‘til now?” he asked.
“We had enough to make due the last winter since we’d stocked up before everything happened. When we exhausted it in the spring, I started raiding other homes for firewood and furniture,” she admitted. “But I had to stop ‘cause the Jeep died and our gas supply was getting low.”
“Then cords of wood you shall have. I promise to keep you
Not feeling in control, Hannah excused herself and went to check on her uncle, but she couldn’t stop thinking very naughty thoughts of Brody. She couldn’t hide for long though. Brody came looking for her.
“Why don’t you show me the chain saw that’s been giving you problems?”
Hannah led him to the bane of her existence, a brand-new, gas-powered Ryobi she’d taken from the local hardware store. It was actually the third one; the first two hadn’t survived her frustration.
Brody turned the stupid thing over in his hands, opened the gas compartment for a sniff, then looked at her with a smile. “It’s a two cycle.”
Hannah pursed her lips, annoyed at his vague statement. “And?”
“You forgot to mix it with oil.”
With deft fingers, he dumped the gas reservoir into an empty oil container and then mixed up what he called a ratio fuel mixture. He spoke words like “priming the carb” and “setting the choke,” jargon Hannah couldn’t quite follow, but the result when he’d done his prepping and gave it a few pulls was a growl as the machine started, it’s chain whirring.
Hannah made a face at the ease with which he’d started it and walked away to take care of other chores. But like the planets that circled the sun, she kept revolving back into his vicinity, unable to stop herself.
By late morning she finally admitted something to herself-she still wanted him. Who in their right mind wouldn’t?
The day had turned really warm, and Brody had been hard at work. He’d lost his shirt at one point, and his tanned and corded muscles rippled as he handled the chain saw. His hard abs also glistened enticingly, slick with sweat, making Hannah almost go cross-eyed with desire. His jeans hung low on his lean hips, drawing attention to the vee of hair that arrowed down his chest and disappeared beneath the waistband. Hannah licked her lips more than once and drank way too many glasses of water trying to ease the slow fire burning inside of her every time she saw him.
As if he could read her mind, he kept glancing over at her and giving her lazy smiles, the kind that made her panties wringing wet. Hungry but settling for food, she made him a plate of edibles and carried it out to him. Partially burned biscuits, canned tuna tossed with celery, onion, and green pepper, and homemade ice tea sans ice. Not exactly a feast, especially since the tuna salad could have really used mayonnaise, but a lack of creamy flavor always won over food poisoning. They had a small fridge that ran on propane, but their biggest problem with things like mayo was they’d all gone past their “best by” dates.
Brody stopped the rumbling saw and, grabbing his discarded shirt, mopped at his brow and chest. Hannah stumbled with the tray of food and would have fallen had he not grabbed her arms to steady her. The instant heat made her knees sag. With a knowing grin that encouraged her tummy to perform gymnastics, he helped her sit on a stump.
She hated how he still seemed to read her like an open book.
They didn’t talk while they ate and when Beth came bouncing over in her still too short denims, Hannah both resented and welcomed her sister’s cheerful intrusion.
“It is so nice to have a man around here,” gushed Beth, batting her lashes at him. “We appreciate your hard
