Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(32)

Most guys weren’t that interested in the process—they wanted the result. But he’d always enjoyed watching a woman get ready. Maybe he was trying to see where the magic went. All those potions in pots and jars, he thought with a smile.

Isabel put down the mascara, glanced into the mirror, saw him, then jumped and screamed.

She pulled the door all the way open. “What the hell are you doing? You scared the crap out of me.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Your back door was unlocked. How do you like your coffee?” He handed her a mug.

“Black. Thanks.” She took the coffee and then glanced from it to him and back. “You just walked in here?”

“Sure. Like I said, the door was open.”

“I forgot to lock it. I wasn’t inviting you in.”

He grinned. “Yet here I am, all the same.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You’re bored, aren’t you? That’s what this is about.”

“I’ll admit to having a slow day.”

“So typical. My day isn’t slow. I’m expecting several gowns to arrive. Do you know what that means?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Unpacking and then hours of ironing. Want to learn the delicate art of ironing a wedding gown?”

“Not really. But you could thank me for the coffee.”

“It’s my coffee.”

“I carried it.”

She shook her head and turned back to the mirror. “Someone needs to beat the crap out of you.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a girl turned on by violence.”

“I’m not...” She drew in a breath. “Never mind,” she muttered from between clenched teeth.

She pulled out the curlers, sliding the round part back into place on rods and dropping the pins into a plastic bowl. Her blond hair fell to just below her shoulders in loose, sexy curls. The air was scented with some kind of floral body wash and maybe lotion.

He’d spent plenty of time on navy ships and could complete his shower in less than a hundred and twenty seconds. Including shaving and dressing, from the time he walked into the bathroom until he walked out, fully clothed, it was less than five minutes.

Civilian women weren’t like that.

He leaned against the door frame, watching as Isabel bent over at the waist and shook her head, then finger-combed her curls. His gaze strayed to her butt, which pulled at the shiny fabric of her robe.

She was tall and curvy. He liked how she felt when he held her, liked the softness, the warmth. The way she’d kissed him? He was still in recovery. He’d expected to enjoy himself. He hadn’t thought she would take him from zero to sixty in a heartbeat.

If they hadn’t been out in public, he would have been hard-pressed not to try to convince her they had to make love that very second. Maybe she wasn’t as off-limits as he’d first thought, he told himself. Little Isabel was all grown-up and he had to say he was a fan of how she’d turned out.

* * *

ISABEL STRAIGHTENED and discovered that, yes, Ford was still there. Watching her with that almost smile of his. The one designed to drive her crazy.

“Step back unless you want to risk being turned into a woman,” she said, picking up a spray bottle.

He did as she suggested, retreating down the hall. “I’m going to see what you have for breakfast,” he yelled back.

“You do that.”

She finished with her hair, then walked quickly into her bedroom. After closing and locking the door, she finished dressing. She tucked her blouse into her skirt, all the while telling herself she should be annoyed that Ford had simply walked into her house. Yet she couldn’t seem to summon the energy. He was one of those guys women seemed to like, and she wasn’t the least bit immune.

Still barefoot, she went down the hall and into the kitchen. Ford sat at one of the stools at the bar. There was a box of cereal on the counter.

“You don’t have eggs,” he told her. “Or bacon. What’s with that?”

“I don’t eat eggs or bacon in the morning.”

His expression turned suspicious. “You’re not one of those eggs-for-lunch people, are you? Because that’s wrong.”

“You are so strange. Would you also expect me to cook the eggs and bacon?”

“No, but it would be nice if you did.”

“You do realize you have your own kitchen upstairs, right? You could buy your own eggs and bacon and fix them yourself.”

He leaned back in the chair. “It’s better here.”

“I thought macho SEALs liked to be alone. That you were all so solitary.”

“No. We’re pack animals. Work in a team. Hang out together.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way, but understood what he was saying. “So now that we’re fake-dating, I’m in your pack?”

He offered her that sexy smile of his. “Every woman’s dream.”

If he hadn’t made her tremble and want for the first time in her life, she would have laughed at him. But as it was, she could only turn away and wonder if there was a polite way to ask him to repeat the kissing thing. Just so she could confirm it wasn’t a fluke.

He poured them cereal, then picked up a banana and sliced half of it into each bowl. Last he added milk.