Her eyes widened and she forced herself to look away. What was she doing? She was done with men, and she was especially done with this man. She couldn’t stand him. So why on earth would she be admiring his…
Her eyes strayed back to him and that very nice derriere. Just because she was through with men didn’t mean she couldn’t recognize nice assets—no pun intended—when she saw them. And she did have to admit he did have some pretty nice assets. Too bad they all disappeared as soon as he opened his mouth.
“Hi.”
It took a few moments for Marty to realize that mouth had spoken to her.
Her eyes snapped up to discover Nathaniel was watching her over his shoulder. An irritatingly relaxed smile curved his lips.
Nate fought to keep his smile from widening as Marty’s cheeks colored a deep pink. But to her credit, she recovered quickly, crossing her arms across her chest as she leaned against the doorjamb. “What are you doing?”
Again he tried not to grin at her surly tone. Man, she disliked him.
He lifted the frying pan off the stove and tilted it so she could see the yellowy contents sizzling away. “I’m making eggs. Want some?”
She frowned at him.
It was a good thing her smile had been documented on the covers of magazines; otherwise, he wouldn’t have believed she ever smiled. Of course, her glower was as attractive as her smile. Not many people looked lovely when they were shooting daggers with their eyes. Marty did.
“They’re good,” he said cajolingly, waving the pan toward her. “And I made toast.”
He could see her hesitation, and although there were no overt signs of nervousness, he still got the feeling she was very wary. Again, he wondered why.
She didn’t say anything but, to his shock, she did move to sit down at the large kitchen table.
He returned the frying pan to the stove top and flipped off the burner. After scooping the eggs onto two plates, he headed toward the table.
Marty stared, watching his approach and the way he walked, the hitch of his gait. Her eyes moved down to his knee, then she seemed to realize she was being rude and looked away. Embarrassment colored her cheeks again.
He didn’t take offense at her stare. His limp was hard to ignore. Not to mention that he’d also done too much on it this morning, so the limp was even more pronounced than usual. Doc Hall would give him hell at his next physical-therapy session.
“These were supposed to be omelets,” he explained as he set a plate in front of her, feeling the need to ease the awkwardness. “But it’s surprisingly harder than you’d think to flip those suckers. So they ended up scrambled.” He smiled at her again and was met with a cool glance.
“Thank you,” she mumbled and picked up her fork.
He nodded and took the chair across from her.
They both ate in silence for a moment, until he said, “I don’t really like eggs. But they are a good source of protein, and if I add enough cheese, they’re tolerable.”
“There are other sources of protein,” she said, the words clipped.
“Did I mention that eggs are easy to cook?”
“Except omelets,” she reminded him.
He chuckled. “Exactly.” Wow, had that been a joke? Maybe she would loosen up with him yet.
“So you’ll be able to get into your house tonight, right?”
Or not. “Yeah, I should be able to get Derek Nye—you remember Derek, don’t you?”
She nodded, a slight, indifferent dip of her chin that clearly stated that if she did remember Derek, she didn’t care for him any more than she cared for Nate.
“Well, anyway, he has a plow, so I should able to get him to clear out my road.”
She nodded again, never taking her attention off her breakfast.
Nate took advantage of the moment to study at her. Her short, dark hair was tousled, one side sticking out prominently from where she’d slept on it. Her baggy, red sweatshirt completely hid the lithe, willowy body that had graced so many magazines. There was no hint of make-up on her smooth skin. Sitting in the morning sun, she didn’t look like a supermodel. She looked like a real woman, her features more striking than beautiful. Although her big, dark eyes and wide, lush lips were pretty darn gorgeous.
But again, he couldn’t help noticing that her pale complexion wasn’t totally natural. And the sunlight also revealed the purplish smudges under her eyes and the tense set of those full lips.
She was definitely stressed about something. And despite her dislike of him, Nate believed it was something more than his presence. He just wasn’t helping her stress level.
He took the last bite of eggs and pushed back from the table, stretching out his long legs. His knee protested. He massaged it, feeling the ridges of scar tissue even through his jeans.
When he looked up, Marty was watching his hand on his knee intently. But she didn’t say anything.
“So, are you staying through the holidays?”
She stopped watching his hand, but still didn’t look at him. Instead she reached for a piece of toast. “Yes, maybe longer.”
“Well, I know your sisters will be thrilled.”
She raised an eyebrow, although her attention was still on her eggs. “It seems you know my sisters quite well these days.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been hanging out with Mason and Chase quite a bit lately.”
She nodded, again all her tenseness masked with a look of indifference.
“Okay,” he sighed, realizing that she had no intention of warming up in any way. “Well, I guess I’d better get these dishes washed and head to the shower.”
“I can do the dishes.”
He had no doubt that a sink full of dirty dishes was far more appealing to her than his company.
“Okay, if you want to, have at it.” He rose and limped toward the door. Then he turned back to her, his tired muscles reminding him. “Oh, your car is all dug out. And the driveway too, if you want to move it off the street.”
“You shoveled the driveway?” she asked, shocked.
“Yeah.”
“That had to have taken hours. When did you do that?”
Nate shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well be doing something.”
“You were out there shoveling in the middle of the night?”
He shrugged. “Nah, more like early morning. Fiveish, maybe.”
If he had expected a thank-you or even a look of appreciation, he didn’t get it. Instead she frowned again. “That’s crazy.”
A dry laugh escaped him. “Yeah, I’m getting that a lot lately.” In fact, it was one of the things he was getting a little tired of hearing. He ran a hand through his hair.
Marty’s eyes widened just slightly as she stared at a point just to the right of his eyes.
She hadn’t noticed the scar, he realized. His hair must have hidden it. That probably mixed with the fact that she hadn’t really looked at him all morning. Not his face anyway.
The combination of the crazy comment and the reaction to his scar suddenly annoyed him. He stood there for a moment until he knew she felt uncomfortable with his stare. Then he said flatly, “A steel-toed boot was the doctor’s best guess.” He didn’t elaborate more, but just left her there with a stunned expression.
Here