“I kissed you, Yvette. Not a friendly, token peck either.” And she’d kissed him back with enthusiasm—until she’d caught herself. He narrowed his eyes, determined to make her accept the truth. “My tongue was in your mouth, and we both liked it.”
More heat stained her cheeks; a pulse went wild in her pale throat.
Interesting. “You had to know.”
Worse than denying it, she said, “It doesn’t matter.”
The hell it didn’t.
Intrigued by her reaction but not overly concerned, Cannon tipped his head to study her. One way or another, he’d win her over. For the foreseeable future he’d be under the same roof with her, in close proximity. Anything and everything could happen.
He’d see to it.
Eventually he’d find that girl who had adored him, the one who’d wanted him enough to rely on him, to trust him completely.
But for now, he hoped to wade through her denials without scaring her off. “It matters to me.”
“Cannon, please.” She pressed fingertips to her temples. “You’re throwing too much at me at one time.”
True. She’d just lost her grandfather. Moved from California. Inherited a house and a business.
On top of all that, he’d moved in on her. To the world he could claim friendly, caring motives. The need to protect her from fear, from ugly memories, definitely existed.
But being honest with himself, he had to admit his intent centered mostly on getting her in bed. If he weren’t so raw with needing her, if it didn’t feel as if he’d suffered three years of heavy foreplay, he might have backed off, given her some space.
But he couldn’t.
He could, however, slow things down and give her a little more breathing room. “Let’s start with exchanging info.” After she got comfortable with having him around, then they could move on to exchanging more. A lot more. “If anything comes up with the legality of the property, we’ll need to be able to find each other, right?”
“What would come up?”
No time like the present. He only hoped he could steer her in the right direction. “Mindi Jarrett called.”
With a barely perceptible glitter, her eyes went from wary to antagonistic. “Who?”
Jealousy sounded in the tight query. Nice. He hated suffering alone. “The lawyer’s assistant.”
“Oh.” For a brief second, her thick lashes swept down as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she muttered, “Sorry.”
Hiding his chuckle wasn’t easy. “She has an offer for us.”
“An offer for...?”
“The pawnshop. I didn’t ask how much. She wanted me to come meet her but I told her I’d talk to you and we’d both go. I’m supposed to call her back.”
She pushed out of the chair to pace. “I didn’t expect an offer so quickly. I’ve only driven by there once. I don’t really know what it’s worth or...”
“Or if you want to sell?”
She flagged a hand in the air. “We have to sell.”
Maybe. Leaning back against the table, Cannon crossed his ankles and watched her nervous stride around the small kitchen. “What is it you do?”
“Do?”
“For a living.”
“Oh, right.” She went to the sink—as far from him as she could get without actually leaving the room. Leaning back in a pose similar to his own, she said, “I’m an eBay vendor.” Without him asking, she explained. “I learned a lot working at the pawnshop, and eBay seemed like an easy way to use what I know. I take things from other people and auction them with a commission paid to me. But I also buy stuff at yard and estate sales, and overstock items to resell.”
“You make a living doing that?”
“I wasn’t getting rich, but I was able to live on my own and save for a rainy day.” Restless, she pushed off from the sink to pace again. “My friend Vanity works with me. We can both do any of the work, but mostly I take care of acquiring and listing the stuff with photos, and she mails off or delivers it after the sale. In fact, she’ll continue to do that with my remaining stock in California.”
“Vanity?” Unusual name for a girl.
Yvette nodded while tracking the perimeter of the kitchen, much like a caged pet. Her long stride drew his gaze repeatedly to her legs and her bare feet. Her vibrating energy was another new facet that he enjoyed.
“Vanity Baker. She’s gorgeous—you’d like her.”
“You’re gorgeous.” And I more than like you.
A smile teased her mouth. “Thank you, but Vanity is different. She’s a stereotypical California surfer. Tall, toned and tanned, with really long blond hair and...well, she’s stacked. She could be a living Barbie doll except that she despises anything pink.”
Not getting the reference, Cannon asked, “Pink?”
“Yeah, you know. Barbie has a pink car, a pink scooter, a pink house with pink furniture and so on.” She wrinkled her nose. “Everything is a Pepto-Bismol shade of pink.”
“Never realized.”
She cast him a look. “Your sister wasn’t into Barbie?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He wanted her to understand something. “However pretty you think your friend is—”
“She’s beyond pretty, believe me. Men stop and stare.”
He shook his head. “They do that to you, too, Yvette.”