The full bath had the rustic elegance of those she’d encountered during a trip to the Tetons. Textured sandstone tile covered the floor and a walnut vanity contained two sinks. She turned on the shower and undressed. When ribbons of steam filled the air, she stepped under the spout. Water streamed down her face like hot tears. Her eyes ached with the effort to hold her own at bay. Crying about David wouldn’t solve anything, so Jaye opened her eyes and frowned at the two plastic dinosaurs standing beside a bottle of shampoo, their teeth bared. How had a Stegosaurus and a Triceratops ended up in Mitch’s extra bathroom?
Did he have some weird dinosaur fetish?
She finished showering and got dressed, careful not to make noise as she walked into the living room. Past the empty couch and darkened flat-screen TV, she padded past the brick fireplace. Gray ashes lay beneath the black grate, evidence a fire had filled the hearth not so long ago. She slowed her gait near the hallway leading to the master suite. Mitch’s bedroom door was wide open. Jaye stared like a moon-eyed teen at the unimpeded view of his room.
An attractive dark bureau sat along one wall, facing a massive king-sized bed. Thick, white covers were yanked over the mattress.
“Geez, Mitch. Do you work on Saturday mornings, too?” She scratched her head. “You Buffalo Bills’ fans are gluttons for punishment.”
She strode into the kitchen and placed her phone on the counter in case her father called. There was no time to dawdle. A three-hour drive was needed to get to Davis Software’s headquarters in Syracuse. Her father had scheduled an “informal” meeting so she could begin working with the administrative team.
Perhaps starting a new project would help her forget David’s text.
The kitchen’s back door swung open. Mitch strode in, wearing a dusky brown camouflage jacket and pants. “If you’re cooking breakfast, count me in. I doubt you can top those pork chops you made Thursday night, but I’m willing to let you try.”
“Sorry, I’m just having cereal.” She poured some granola into a bowl. The icy air from outside crept under the hem of her slacks and between the buttons lining the front of her blouse.
He closed the door with a soft thump. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She frowned at him. “Why?”
“Your eyes look red.” He pulled a bright orange knit cap off his head, crushing the hat in his hand. “Have you been crying?”
The cereal box thunked on the counter, throwing a grain of oatmeal against Jaye’s neck. The crumb slid into the neckline of her blouse and stopped between her breasts—as unexpected as his question. She felt her face go bright red, but forced herself to meet Mitch’s forthright gaze. “I received an upsetting text from someone this morning, but I’ll be okay.”
“Fair enough.” He tossed the hat onto the kitchen table.
She swept the bangs out of her eyes. “Were you at the factory?”
“I was hunting.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he headed for the sink.
With a sharp glance out the window, Jaye spotted a brown lump lying in the bed of his rusty blue pickup. “What did you catch?”
“An eight-point buck.” Water ran. The liquid soap dispenser squirted.
She’d seen dead deer on the roads before, but never one someone intentionally killed. The tip of her nose touched the cold windowpane. “Wait a minute. I think I saw the deer move.”
“Not likely.” He ripped off a paper towel. “You didn’t grow up around hunters, did you?”
A self-deprecating grin lifted the corner of her mouth. She turned to face him. “Ever try getting a hot dog at a Patriots’ game during half-time? If that’s not hunting, I don’t know what is.”
“Point taken,” Mitch conceded, filling a glass of water.
Jaye watched him drink, noting that the whiskers shadowing his jaw were dark blond, almost bronze. Judging by the sweat glistening on his forehead, he’d expended a lot of energy hiking into the woods, tracking the deer, and bringing the kill to his truck. The fluid ease of his movements indicated he possessed plenty of reserve energy to resume hunting if he returned to the woods.
The sight of him all sweaty and raw sent Jaye’s imagination spinning. This man was unlike any she’d ever known. The men in her social circle slathered their hair with styling products, but Mitch kept his hair a half-inch long. The buzz cut accentuated the strong, square lines of his face better than any styling product could have. For that matter, the men she knew never got their hands dirty, but Mitch’s broad knuckles were smoke-stained and nicked from blowing glass, hunting for food, and fixing his house.
A flood of arousal prickled low in her groin. What would sleeping with a man who cared more about getting things done than appearances be like?
“I’ve been meaning to ask if you like dinosaurs.” Jaye fiddled with the top button of her blouse, dropping a quick glance to see if she could spot the granola between her breasts. “I keep knocking over a plastic T-Rex whenever I brush my teeth.”
He put his glass beside the sink and chuckled. “Is there a Stegosaurus and a Triceratops in your bathroom, too?”
“Yes.”
“They belong to my brothers.”
“Phew. I was afraid those toys were yours.” She closed the cereal box and glanced toward the window. “What happens next? To the deer, I mean.”
“I’ll take it to the butcher. Some meat will go into my freezer and I’ll send the rest to my father’s house. My brothers are only eight, but they eat a ton.” He took an apple out of the bowl sitting on the counter and bit into the fruit.
“Living in the city makes me forget where all the food in the grocery store comes from.” Jaye placed the cereal box in the pantry and extracted
