Midnight Kiss (Virgin River #12)(36)

Not that she was the One, of course. No, his ideal woman was still out there somewhere and he would keep looking.

But in the meantime, he could help her, this hard-edged woman who had likely never cared for a house-plant, much less gardened. She probably lived on take-out. As for baking bread…the mere image of Jordan Parrish with flour dusting her apron and her hand buried in dough…

That made him laugh out loud.

He was quite clearly insane, of course, for getting involved. Between his inability to resist a challenge and his weakness for strays, he was, as him mum would say, a complete pudding.

But Jordan Parrish most definitely needed someone to be kind to her, to teach her that her cynicism was misplaced. That there were men with whom she could be real, men she could trust.

He wouldn’t let himself get too deep, however. To get caught up in a woman like Jordan would be insanity, pure and simple. He might be a wee bit soft in the head, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Yes, he felt more alive around her, on the edge of his seat to see what she would do next. Jordan was few things he wanted and many he did not.

But she was definitely never boring.

He chuckled again as he parked his truck in the deserted entertainment district, unloaded not only his tools but a sack of groceries. He’d been up for hours, but he’d bet his granny’s soul Jordan was still sleeping, so he’d come prepared not only to fix her faucet but feed her, as well.

He pressed her buzzer once, then again with no answer. He set down his toolbox, already peering around him for pebbles to toss at her window.

“Oh, hell, it’s you,” came the irritated voice from the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?”

Will grinned. “Let me up, darlin’. I come bearing breakfast.”

“I don’t eat breakfast,” Jordan muttered.

But she hit the button.

JORDAN UNLOCKED THE DOOR, then sank back into the nearest chair and curled up, already half-asleep.

Will strode through it seconds later, whistling.

Jordan muttered and refused to open her eyes. “Go away.”

“Now, darlin’…” She could feel, actually feel the blasted man grinning at her. She picked up the pillow beside her and covered her face with it. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up at, what, dawn?”

“It’s hardly dawn. I’ve been up for hours.”

She threw the pillow in the direction of his voice.

Something heavy rattled, then thumped on the floor. Footsteps sounded, along with something being set on her counter. She curled in more tightly on herself and wished just then that she’d thought to grab a blanket. It was freaking cold, and she only wore a camisole and boxers.

More footsteps, then a blanket settled over her. He even tucked it in around her legs, then pressed a kiss to her hair. “Sweet dreams,” he murmured.

Then the blasted man started humming.

Jordan dragged the blanket over her head and tried to shut him out, but how on earth did you ignore a very large man clomping around your apartment, especially if the tune he was singing was quite lovely?

Then the coffee grinder kicked in.

“I hate you,” she shouted.

“Hmm? What was that?”

I’m going to kill him. Dead. Worse than dead. As Jordan plotted the ways she could make Will die a slow, painful death, he blithely continued humming and clomping, pausing to chuckle now and again.

Then she smelled the coffee.

And whimpered.

Another chuckle.

Jordan was torn between plotting…and pleading.

Coffee won. “Please…” She stuck one arm out from beneath the blanket.

“In a bit. Anything good is worth the waiting. You mustn’t rush things.”

“Gimme.”

She heard him approach. Then…nothing.

Her eyelids fluttered. The suspense was killing her. “Well?”

The blanket was peeled back. Will sank to his haunches, blue eyes alight with humor and a trace of pity. “Not a morning person, are you?”

“Coffee. I’m begging.”

His smile widened. “And what would be the magic word?”

“I said please already.”

“So you did.” He swooped in for a quick kiss on her nose. Then he proffered a mug that smelled absolutely heavenly, holding it just out of reach. “Would this be what you’re whimpering about?”

“I don’t whimper.” Much.

“Oh, darlin’, I beg to differ. Now, what, a man has to wonder, would a creature in such dire straits be willing to give in exchange?”

“It’s too early for sex.”

A quick flash of very white teeth. “Oh, my…you certainly are out of sorts, aren’t you? It’s never too early for sex—but that wasn’t what I meant.”

“You’re going to make me beg.”

“Not exactly beg.”

“I did say I hate you, right?”

“That you did. But I know it’s simply that you’re cross, in the way of a child.” And all the while, the delectable scent of that coffee was wafting into her nostrils. “You don’t really mean it.”

“I might.”

“No, you don’t. And lucky for you, my price is quite simple and easily met. A simple ‘Good Morning, Will,’ that’s it.”