Chapter Six
Bits and Pieces Computer Repair was Ellie’s first order of business after breakfast on Monday morning, but didn’t see Mike anywhere. She had her apology cookies in hand, ready to let bygones be. Sure, Mike hadn’t exactly been an angel toward her, but two wrongs didn’t make a right, and she knew it.
Plus, that gossip column yesterday from Miss Know-It-All did not paint her in a favorable light. Over the past twenty-four hours, the columnist’s words had popped into her head, making her wince every time.
Former Bad Girl Ellie Willis Goes Full-On Drama Queen!
Ellie Willis, who had been turning over a new leaf from her former troublesome ways, is backsliding big-time. Last night she made quite the scene at Buck’s Shot Bar. Did she cross a line when she targeted resident favorite Mike Stevens about an overheard comment? I believe the word sexist was tossed out at one point. Normally this wouldn’t be gossip, but moments before Ellie had alluded to another bystander that there was a hookup between the two. So, was this really about feminism, or is Ellie a lover scorned?
Blurting what she had at the bar was a stupid move. If she’d known how many questions about Mike she’d spend her weekend fielding, she would’ve kept her mouth shut. It had been impulse. Definitely not jealousy.
Right?
When she’d stopped off to grab breakfast at The Local Bean, Mrs. Andrews hadn’t had a problem telling Ellie that she’d probably misheard Mike and that he was a good man who’d never insult a lady.
Ellie had resisted the urge to laugh and tell her he already had. Because then Mrs. Andrews would probably tell her that she wasn’t a lady.
Who cared, anyway? Being proper and ladylike was overrated.
Yet here she was, doing the right thing, hoping she could catch Mike today before he decided to take revenge on her computer or, worse, follow through with not fixing it at all.
She stopped alongside Mike’s desk, looking toward a closed door. “Hello?”
Nothing.
Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Or he’s hiding because he doesn’t want to see me again?
Mike didn’t come off as a coward, though. He hadn’t backed down the other night, that was for sure. She didn’t like that she had noticed a vein swell in his forehead and that his eyes had seem to darken to ink-black when he was angry.
It was insanely hot, but she didn’t want to think it was.
Ellie bent over Mike’s desk, eyeballing the pictures he had scattered about. There was one of him and an older couple, probably his parents, and another that looked like a high school dance group shot. Ellie squinted at the faces and was pretty sure she recognized Gracie and her best friend, Gemma Bowers, among the couples. Her gaze returned to Mike, who had longer hair in the picture, and his shoulders weren’t as wide, but he still had that beautiful smile and wore a pair of black-framed glasses.
Ellie set the plate of cookies down and reached out to pick up the frame to get a better look, but she bumped a pile of files in the process.
“Shit.” She gathered them and as she put them back a tiny black notebook grabbed her attention.
Curiosity made her fingers itch.
Don’t look. It’s none of your business.
Unable to resist, she picked up the book and flipped it open to the first page.
This book is TOP SECRET. If you haven’t been given it, do not read it!
Ellie rolled her eyes and turned the page.
Never show fear. Women want a man who is confident and takes charge without being an asshole. They don’t want a guy who’s unsure or who hesitates. Ask her if she prefers Japanese or Italian. When she answers, say, “Great, I know the perfect place.” At the end of the night, if you want to see her again, lean down and leave your lips just above hers. If she sways your way, keep going. If she hesitates, say something like, “I don’t want to move too fast, but you’re so beautiful, I’m dying to kiss you.” 90% effective for first date kiss. 30% effective for being invited inside.
Ellie was laughing so hard, she almost didn’t hear Mike come in from the back, loudly singing…
Michael Jackson?
“Cause I’m bad. I’m bad. Shamoan!”
Ellie dropped the notebook on his desk and tried to act casual as he came around the corner with his headphones in. The minute he saw her, he stopped dancing and stared at her like a deer caught in headlights.
This was not how she imagined repairing the rift between them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—s”
“What?” Mike said, jerking out his headphones, his handsome face tomato-red. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here. Were you waiting long?”
“No, it’s fine. I was just coming by to say, well…I wanted to apologize for the other night. What I said was out of line.” Why the hell was she stammering like an idiot?
Mike ran his hand over his face and head, messing up his slicked hair. “At least Miss Know-It-All didn’t mention that I may have herpes, so it could have been worse. The headline could have read, Mike Steven Is the Perfect Candidate for A ‘No Glove No Love’ Poster.”
“I don’t think anyone would use that headline. That phrase hasn’t been used since the sixties,” Ellie said.
“Well, my dad used it in his birds-and-bees talk to me, so I guess it stuck” Mike said, laughing.
With the short strands of his hair looking mushed, she had the strangest urge to step into him. Run her fingers through it lightly, combing them back into place, their faces pressed closely together. Eyes locked, lips parted—
Holy hell, she was losing her damn mind!
Ellie’s giggle joined his. “That must have been awkward.”
“It was better than my mother’s threats of castration if I got a girl pregnant.”
“Ouch. Your mom sounds like a ball-buster. Literally.” Ellie noticed that when he relaxed and smiled for real, his eyes crinkled up at the corners attractively and she hated herself for enjoying it so much.
“She is,” Mike said. “I actually need to apologize, too. I have been a jerk to you, and it isn’t right. I should have just told you I was flattered and let you down easy.”
She cocked one eyebrow at him. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. You weren’t even tempted to take me up on it?”
Mike’s ears turned bright red. “I wasn’t in the head space to go home with anyone. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time when I was feeling pretty low about women. And I’m very sorry I took it all out on you.”
His apology warmed her toward him. A little. “Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s in your little book, but not calling women dumb should be rule number two at least.”
Mike’s gaze flew to his desk where the notebook sat, and Ellie wanted to bite her tongue off.
“Shit, you read that?” Mike walked over to the desk and shoved it into his pocket. “Do you always go through people’s desks?”
So much for calling a truce. “Would you believe me if I said it fell open and my eyes had a will of their own?”
“I make it a habit not to trust people who say ‘Would you believe me if.’”
“Fair enough,” Ellie said, wondering why she was trying so hard. He was exactly the type of person she avoided. Too nice. Too good. Too perfect. So-called perfect people always covered up something. Human beings were meant to be imperfect messes, and no one was ever good all the time.
But people in Rock Canyon genuinely liked Mike Stevens, even if Ellie wasn’t convinced by his good guy act, and his opinion of her mattered. The people of Rock Canyon still weren’t convinced she wasn’t rotten to the core, despite all of the good she’d been trying to do. Having Mike as a friend, or at least, not an enemy, could completely boost her image.
Ellie realized she’d spaced out when Mike started talking again. “Look, the book is just a gag,” Mike said. “Drew gave to me as a joke and I just haven’t thrown it away yet.”
Okay, that was just lame. “Right.”
He scowled at her.
“Well, I can see I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so here are my apology cookies.” Ellie pointing to the plate on the desk. “Will you still fix my computer? I miss him.”
“Him?”
“Yeah, I call him Howey, and he’s been with me for three years. He even has a pretty jeweled sleeve.”
Mike shook his head. “Are you sure the computer didn’t die of embarrassment?”
“Haha. Please, will you fix him?”
“Sure.” He sat down, and she bit her lip as her gaze drifted to his pocket where the book was. It was a weak attempt to keep from doing something she might regret—such as dispensing unsolicited advice.
“Ugh, I can’t stand it!” He looked up, obviously startled by her exclamation. “Do not say that cheesy line. Any woman worth her salt is going to see through that and the ones who don’t, you do not want to get involved with. If you’re going to kiss a woman, just do it. Don’t play games.”
Mike sat back in the chair, his expression considering. “You really don’t know how to keep your mouth shut, do you?”
“No, I can’t when you’re going to make a huge mistake. I admit, I think the nice guy routine you put on with the rest of the town is complete and utter bullshit, but I also don’t think you’re a total waste of space. So, if you’ll help me convince them they should give me a chance, I can help you with your little notebook.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Yeah, I know, but you’re also not a pro football player who can get tail by just snapping his fingers. Whatever is in that notebook might not work for you. Wouldn’t you at least like a second opinion?” Ellie couldn’t tell if he was actually thinking about her offer or if he was about to toss her out on her rear. She told herself this was important because she needed him to help her repair the damage she’d caused, but it might also be that she was curious. Why did everyone seem to think Mike needed help getting women? Everyone else liked him and he was handsome with his own business and house.
So, was she right, and he had laundry so dirty it scared girls away?
Finally, Mike asked, “But why your second opinion? What makes you such an expert?”
“You mean besides the fact that I have ovaries?” When he didn’t laugh, or even crack a smile, she sighed. “I’ve been dating since I was thirteen, and I know women. We all want the package deal…a guy who treats us right, who’s also uber sexy, has a few tats, and drives a hot car or motorcycle.”
“I’m just saying that you being a woman doesn’t mean you know about relationships. And you haven’t exactly been a fan of mine, so why should I trust you?”
Okay, he had her there.
“You’re right about the fan part, but I do know what women are looking for in a man, and this pretend nice guy thing is not it.”
“That is the second time in less than five minutes you’ve insinuated I’m not really a nice guy, that it’s all an act. I think I should be insulted.”
“Don’t be. You’re very good, but I know your type.” She ticked off her fingers. “You pretend to be a knight in shining armor until it’s no longer in your best interest and then you screw them over. Unfortunately for you, you’re being too nice and it’s turning the women you’re involved with off.”
Mike stood up and walked over to the shelf to grab what looked like a tool box. “So, if you think I’m just going to screw over whoever I date, why help me?”
“Because I need something, and I’m not afraid of making a deal with the devil.” Dramatic, but it broke the tension.
Mike laughed, shaking his head. “You’re cr—”
She narrowed her eyes and he coughed.
“I was going to say, creative,” he said.
“Right. Look, do we have a deal?”
Mike tilted his head, watching her with those Golden Retriever brown eyes and she fought the urge to squirm. Finally, he held out his hand. “Deal.”
Ellie took his hand with a grin, a plot already forming. “Come by Buck’s after work and we’ll get started.”
Mike stood outside Buck’s Shot Bar just after five, wondering what in the hell had possessed him to agree to this. Ellie and he hadn’t even been able to stay in the same room without insulting each other and now they were going to be in cahoots? Partners in crime?
He would have told people she was okay, just because he wanted to make it up to her for the way he’d treated her. But when she offered to help, some part of him kept yelling for him to say yes. To do it. To crack through all the bullshit and rumors and figure out who Ellie was. He couldn’t help it—she fascinated him.
Because she’s beautiful and fiery and doesn’t think you’re genuine?
He had to admit, he found it interesting that she didn’t believe he was a good guy, that he was just putting on an act. Granted, he hadn’t exactly shown her his best side, but still, people sometimes didn’t click. It didn’t mean they were faking it.
Suddenly the door swung open, and Ellie stepped out. “Are you going to stand out here staring at the door or come inside?”
“I hadn’t decided yet,” Mike said. “How did you know I was here?”
“A little birdie told me, and I’m deciding for you.” Ellie took a step toward him, and grabbed his hand boldly. Heat shot out across his skin and up his arm as he allowed her to drag him inside behind her, too surprised to ask what she had planned for him. He caught the sweet smell of her perfume, and, despite his best intentions, he got a semi.
“I’ve been thinking about our problem with your ‘lack of credibility,’” Ellie said.
“My lack of credibility?” Mike echoed as they passed by the bar toward one of the booths on the wall.
“Eric, I’m taking a break.”
Eric scowled at her from behind the bar. “A break? You just got here!”
“Technically, I’ve been here for over an hour, and we’re dead anyway.”
It was true. Only a couple of men in their forties sporting ball caps and farmer’s tans were in the place.
“You’ve got ten minutes,” Eric said.
“That’s all I need.” She slid into the booth across from him with a grin. “That’s what she said, am I right?”
Mike burst out laughing. “Did you just make a dirty joke?”
“Hey, it broke the ice.”
“I guess it did,” he said.
“Great, now that we have that out of the way, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty.” She gave him a once over, and he pulled at the collar of his plaid shirt. “We need to give you a less…stiff image.”
“I look stiff?” He’d gone home to clean up before coming.
“Let’s see. You’re wearing khakis that actually appear to be ironed, a button-down shirt with a collar so crisp I’m confident it will never lose its shape, and your shoes are shinier that my lip gloss.” She pursed her lips as if to give him a better look. “Stiff. You look like a math tutor.”
He’d thought changing into fresh clothes would be seen as a good thing. “I’m guessing that’s bad.”
“Very. Women do not want uptight nerds, although nerds are hot if they are presented the right way.”
Mike couldn’t remember anyone, besides maybe Gracie, calling him a nerd since high school.
“So, how do you make a nerd look cool?” he asked.
“First off, keep these”—she pulled his glasses from his pocket—“on your face.”
“My glasses? Seriously?” He’d had Lasik surgery years ago, and used them only for working and reading.
“Deadly.” She leaned over the table and slipped them over the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with her finger. This close, his gaze wandered over her thick eyelashes, smooth cheeks, and back to those shiny lips.
“Next, don’t slick down your hair. Leave it messy, maybe with a little gel in it. Your hair is just the right length that when it’s a little tousled, women want to run their fingers through it.”
“You can’t know that—”
“Yes, I can. Because I did.”
That gave him pause. “You did?”
“Yeah. Earlier when you kept running your fingers through it and messing it up. All I could think about was getting my hands in your hair and fixing it.”
He grinned, thinking if she was a friend, he would be teasing her about thinking he was sexy.
As if she could read her thoughts, she groaned, “Oh, for God’s sake, let’s not make a big deal out of it. You’re a hot guy. Own it and play it to your best advantage. Even if a woman can’t stand you, she might still hate-fuck you if you work it just right.”
A bark of laughter escaped before he could stop it. “I don’t think I’ve ever hate-fucked anyone.”
“You should. Angry sex can be way hot.”
Damn, he kind of liked that she spoke her mind without seeming to care if he judged her or not. In fact, he found her openness…sexy.
Ah hell, now I’m thinking about angry sex with her.
Trying to get back on track, he cleared his throat. “Okay, so I’m wearing the glasses and looking like I just rolled out of bed. What else?”
“Hmm, I’m going to have to inspect your closet, but I think we’re going to need to go shopping.”
He grimaced. He hated shopping.
“Also, have you ever thought of buying a motorcycle?”
“God, did you and Gracie join forces or something?” he asked.
She cocked her head, bewilderment written all over her face. “Huh?”
“She told me the other day I should get one.”
“So, why don’t you? They are totally hot. Plus, the gas is cheaper and—”
“Yeah, I got the speech from Gracie.”
“Yo, Ellie, time’s up!” Eric hollered from the bar.
Ellie sighed and waved at him. “Why don’t I bring over Chinese tomorrow and we’ll discuss the rest of my evil genius plan.”
“I believe the evil genius part.” Why was he doing this? Did he really think she was going to be able to help? What if she was just trying to make him look like an idiot as some revenge plot for his asshole behavior and he was going along with it?
Because I will always be that pathetic high school nerd who can’t say no to a pretty face? Weak, Stevens.
“Oh, and I need the little Pickup Artist book so I can make notes.”
“Yeah, no, I’m not giving it to you,” Mike said.
“Why not?” Her tone was sickly sweet, and didn’t help his suspicion. “Don’t you trust me?”
“As much as I’d trust a mouse in my cupboard.”
“Come on, I promise I won’t show anyone.” She rolled her eyes when he hesitated. “If we are going to have a professional work relationship, you gotta take a leap of faith and trust me. I promise, I will not make you look like an idiot.”
And just like he when believed Felicity Marshall when she’d promised to go out with him if he did her science homework, he said, “Okay.”
Once a sucker, always a sucker.