A sexy new romance in Kristen Proby’s beloved With Me In Seattle series is out this week, and I have a little sneak peek for you.
I grin and slip from the bed. I’m not about to wear the clothes I had on last night, so I find a T-shirt of Kane’s and a pair of boxer shorts, then pad down to the kitchen where there’s a clean mug sitting next to the coffee pot.
No Keurig for this man.
But there is another note.
There’s cream in the fridge, along with yogurt and fruit if you’d like something to eat. I’m out in the barn working. You’re welcome to come out whenever you like.
It seems the reclusive artist is a romantic.
I set the note aside, fetch the cream from the fridge so I can make my coffee, and then pull out some strawberries to munch on.
I quickly scan Kane’s pantry and discover he has all the makings for some muffins, so I get to work pulling together the treats. By the time they’ve finished baking, and Murphy has talked me out of a whole one for himself, I’m ready to go outside.
I even found a pair of shoes that sort of fit me. I think they’re women’s shoes, but I’m trying not to dwell on that too much. He has sisters, after all.
I pile the hot muffins on a plate, grab a fresh cup of coffee, and head out the back door, admiring the sunroom just off the kitchen.
“Oh, Murphy, I could hang out back here.”
Murphy flashes me a doggy smile, hoping for more handouts, and joins me on the short walk to the barn. I can smell the ocean and hear it beating against the cliffs. The view is breathtaking.
Yes, I could spend some time here.
Smoke billows out of the chimney of what Kane calls the barn. I’m sure at one time that’s what it was, but it’s been remodeled and looks more like an industrial space now. I open the door and slip inside. And stop cold.
Holy shit, Kane’s hot when he’s working.
And not just because it’s sweltering in the barn. He’s sexy.
“Shut the bleeding door,” he yells, snapping me out of my trance. I hastily shut the door and wait as he turns a long pipe with a bulb of molten glass at the end of it. He blows into the pipe and turns the rod again, then reaches down with a thick, heavy towel and rubs it over the hot glass.
I can’t take my eyes off the man.
He’s sweaty from head to toe, his T-shirt sopping wet, and his hair molded to his cheeks.
It looks damn uncomfortable.
But from the expression on his handsome face, he doesn’t give a shit. He’s too consumed by the glass to notice.
Murphy and I wait for a while. At first, I worry that the heat from the room might trigger my asthma, but so far, so good.
I didn’t even need my inhaler at the pub last night, which makes me happy.
Finally, Kane puts the glass in what looks like an oven, turns off the furnace, which immediately extinguishes the flames inside, and spins to look at me.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I told you to come out,” he says simply and walks to me. “You look better in my clothes than I do, and that’s the truth.”
I feel the blush creep up my cheeks. “I needed something clean.”
“If you think I won’t collect them from you later, you’re dead wrong.” He nods down at the plate in my hands. “What’s that you have there?”
“I didn’t have any strawberry muffins.”
“You had all of the ingredients for them, so I baked.”
His green eyes shoot to mine. “You made us muffins? Out of basically nothing?”
“You make it sound way cooler than it is.” I smile when he bites into one, chews, and then moans in happiness.
Murphy whines, so Kane tosses him a small bite.
“These are amazing.”
“Thanks.” I eat a muffin and nod in satisfaction. “Not bad. Could’ve used vanilla, but you didn’t have any.”
“I’ll put it on the grocery list then,” he says with a smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. This is impressive. I’ve never watched anyone blow glass before.”
“No? Well, if you’re good, I’ll show you later. For now, I need a shower, and we have somewhere to be.”
“I can’t go anywhere.” I laugh as I follow Kane out of the barn. “I don’t have any clothes.”