Hooked

some milk—she always took milk in her coffee—and any available goodies. Then he stared at the coffeemaker and opened and closed various ports and pressed buttons, trying to figure it out.
    “You live here,” he said to Mickey, who promptly sat down beside him and thumped his tail. “How does this thing work?” The beast responded with an eager, affectionate grin. “You’re no help at all.”
    Finn pushed a button under a screen that said Brew, and with a few groans and gurgles, the machine started to produce a dark stream. He turned to Mickey for a low five, but his gaze caught on a pile of Damon’s bags and a fishing rod lying on a bench by the back door. It must be the stuff she’d purchased at the Lennox mall. His heart skipped as he picked up the rod and peeked in the bags. Damn. From the looks of the gear, it was intended for her.
    Stephanie Steele fishing. A grin spread from ear to ear. Nobody could tell him that he hadn’t figured into that purchase somewhere. After their meeting at Greer Lodge, she’d been thinking about him. So much that she’d paid a visit to one of their stores and bought some equipment…just as he’d arrived in Atlanta to manage the fishing clinic. Talk about timing!
    * * *
    By the time Stephanie came back down, the rich aroma of coffee filled the kitchen. She paused in the archway, staring at Finn’s broad back and assessing the way he’d made himself at home in her kitchen. She conjured a brief vision of him eating waffles at the counter bar, and an ache bloomed in her chest. He must have sensed her presence, because he turned to her with a grin and a fishing rod in his hands.
    “Look what I found.” There was both teasing and accusation in his tone. “Since when do you go fishing?”
    “I don’t. I. uh, thought it might make a good Christmas gift for the nephews.” She reached for it, but he pulled it out of her reach.
    “Yeah. I know you’re insanely organized, Steph, but not even you start Christmas shopping eight months early. Come clean. What are you doing buying fishing equipment?”
    Her face caught fire at the expectant light in his eyes. He could see right through her.
    “Well, after we talked at Greer Lodge, I figured maybe I’d try it again. Fishing. To see if it really does that stuff you’re always talking about. The oneness with nature, the peace, the spiritual communication.”
    “Whoa. I never said ‘spiritual communication.’ It’s transcendental communion.”
    “Whatever.” She lunged for the rod and snatched air again, before realizing the move had brought her much too close to him. She backed up a step and he took a step forward. She backed another step and looked around for the coffee. That was what she needed, a big hot cup of coffee.
    “You thought about me.” His grin broadened. “Admit it.”
    How could she not?
    “Truthfully—” she wrestled with the wording “—I was thinking about those women I saw, and how they seemed to be having fun.” She squirmed under his X-ray vision. How bad could it be to just admit the truth? She had thought about him. He didn’t have to know how much.
    “They were having fun with me .” He caught her gaze for a second and she fled that contact. “Look me in the eye and tell me you weren’t thinking of me when you bought this equipment at one of my stores.”
    “I was just…okay, a thought or two about you might have slipped in there somewhere.” She folded her arms, struggling to raise her defenses, feeling on the edge of something she wasn’t ready for, something she didn’t know how to keep within bounds. “And I decided to maybe give fishing a second chance.” When he looked unconvinced, she lifted her chin. “I have been known to change my mind. It’s a woman’s prerogative, you know.”
    “Yeah. Those pesky double X chromosomes.” He moved closer and she slid down the counter, away from him. “Okay, I thought about you and you thought about me. That’s a good start, I’d say.”
    What she saw in his eyes rattled her to the depths. Wanting . Her throat tightened. When she slid farther along the counter toward the coffeemaker, he followed, and she found herself trapped in the corner.
    “A good start for what?” she said, panicking at the determination in his expression. He closed in, corralling her, with his arms braced on either side. His eyes darkened and his lips parted. She could feel his gaze on her mouth. She was shaking, having trouble drawing breath. She