When the door suddenly opened, she was caught with that outrageous grin still on her face. And Harry, all six feet five inches of him, looked disgruntled. He was—she gulped—wet, and wearing only a towel. The dogs were now quiet, peeking around Harry’s bare knees.
His eyes narrowed when he saw her. “Perhaps you’re not aware of it, but you’re leaning on my doorbell.”
Charlie, never to be confused with an idiot, widened her eyes and quickly stepped away from the bell. “Oops! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Harry stilled, then slowly looked her over. His gaze lingered on her hair, her breasts, then skimmed down to her feet. She stared back. He stood there blocking his doorway, wearing only a towel, clean shaven. Droplets of water clung to the hair on his chest and trickled through the silky line of hair leading from his navel downward. He smelled of delicious male scents that made heat bloom and curl in her belly. She delicately sniffed the air, breathing him in, then sighed.
His voice was gruff when he said, “You certainly look different out of your male apparel.”
Charlie glanced down at her slim-fitting, well-worn jeans, her lace-up brown work boots. Donning a soft, cream-colored sweater was as far as she’d been willing to go to try to impress him with her less than apparent femininity. Anything more, anything as ridiculous as a skirt, would have been too obvious. She wasn’t altogether certain she even owned a skirt.
Besides, any efforts to make her look more ladylike would have come across as asinine. She just didn’t have the heart for it.
Harry reached out and touched her hair, tugging one curl through his fingers. His cheekbones flushed and he whispered, “Like silk. Warm silk.”
Charlie wanted to melt. Oh, the man had a way of saying things that hit the pit of her stomach and radiated out to make her shaky and hot and… She sighed again. If he’d wanted her to, she’d have stood there all day letting him play with her hair. But then his fingers touched on her bullet earring and he suddenly stiffened and stepped back.
“Good heavens. Come in before someone sees you.”
“Me? You’re the one who’s nearly naked.”
She walked in, thoroughly greeted by the dogs who went all out by jumping and shaking and appearing happy to see a new face. Harry, however, was already stalking away. He waved vaguely toward the kitchen. “Go make yourself at home and I’ll be right back.”
Charlie admired the view of his retreating backside. His shoulders were wide, hard, his spine straight, muscles evident all over the place.
She’d have admired the view even more if he’d dropped the towel. “Don’t dress on my account!”
“Brat.” He galloped up the steps without looking back. She heard a door slam.
Well, well. He certainly was grouchy this afternoon. Charlie slipped off her lightweight jean jacket, laid it over a chair, and went to investigate the kitchen. The dogs followed on her heels and their nails tapped-tapped on the kitchen tile floor as they danced around her.
She wasn’t surprised to find coffee just finished brewing. Remembering how Harry had taken his, she fixed his cup as well as her own. Then she spotted Ted, glaring at her from his seat at the table. She shrugged. “Don’t mind me. I’ll sit way over here. You won’t even know I’m around.”
Sooner howled, as if he found that hilariously funny.
Harry returned only seconds later wearing suit pants and buttoning up a blue dress shirt with one hand. In the other hand he carried shoes, socks and a tie.
Charlie raised a brow. “What? You didn’t trust me alone in your kitchen? Or did you think Ted and I would be brawling? You had to rush back half-dressed?”
He slanted a frown her way and picked up the coffee cup for a healthy sip. “At least allow the caffeine to penetrate my brain cells before you start sniping. I’ve had very little sleep, certainly not enough to counteract yesterday’s adventures.” As if by rote he opened the back door and the dogs darted out.
She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, either. She’d spent most of the evening staring at the ceiling and thinking of that last kiss. She doubted he’d done the same. Maybe he just slept late when he needed to. She, however, didn’t have that luxury, not with the bar to run. “Uh, Harry, are you on your way out?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, so perhaps it would be auspicious for you to explain this unexpected visit?”
“Auspicious, huh? All right, don’t get red in the face. I found out some info on our villains.”
He froze with the cup to his lips, then slowly lowered it. “I assume you’re referring to Floyd and Ralph?”
“Aren’t they the only villains we know jointly?”
He frowned, took a large drink as if to fortify himself, and she continued.
“They’re going to drop in on Pops again today, so I figured I’d follow them when they leave, just to see where they go, and I wondered if you’d want to tag along to keep me company—”
Coffee spewed across the table, making Charlie jump back a good foot. She growled. “Damn it, Harry, you do seem to have a problem with coffee, don’t you?”
He thunked the coffee cup down and took two menacing steps toward her. Ted raced past her with a vicious hissing complaint, but since Harry seemed the bigger threat, she didn’t dare look away from him. She widened her stance, braced herself and waited.
Through gritted teeth, he said, “You’re not to go anywhere near them, Charlie, is that understood?”
She fetched forth her most direct, intimidating look, and must have succeeded, given his stormy expression. “Uh, Harry. You’re not trying to give me orders, are you?”
He stepped closer still, until her neck felt like it might cramp from the drastic angle it took to meet his gaze and his breath hit her face with the force of a puffing bull. “Yes,” he said succinctly. “I’m giving you an explicit directive to stay the hell away from anything and anyone that has to do with Ralph and Floyd.”
He was so close, she couldn’t resist, and leaned just a scant inch closer to smell him, her nose almost touching his chest.
Harry leaped back as if burned. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You smell so good, Harry. If I could bottle you, I’d make a fortune.”
He flushed, blustered for a moment, then started in frowning again. “You’re trying to distract me, damn it.”
Actually, distracting him had never entered her mind. Charlie examined her nails. “They kidnapped me, Harry. They threatened me. You can’t expect me to just let them get away with that.”
“I told you I’d take care of them.”
“Terrific. I’ll go along to see that you take care of them right. I haven’t forgotten you’re the one who was too chicken to push Floyd off the truck.”
He looked nearly apoplectic. “You bloodthirsty little…it would have killed him! I do believe I can handle things without resorting to murder.”
Charlie sniffed. “He’s too mean to die. He’d probably have just gotten his hard head bruised a little.”
“Charlie.” He clasped her shoulders and shook her lightly. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”
She wanted to play with him, but he didn’t look overly receptive to the idea at the moment. No, he looked like it took all his restraint not to choke her.