Read Online Heart of Steele by Randi Alexander - Free Book Online

“More beer.” Steele grabbed his guitar, a
music-lined notepad and pencil, and sat at the bar to refill his
beer. May as well turn all this gut-wrenching emotion into a
song.
    ****
    Bright, bright light seeped through Tracy’s
closed eyelids. She squinted at the sun shining in her window.
She’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, and hadn’t moved all
night. Stretching, she stood and looked out at the lake. The sun
had just poked above the mountains and even with the window tinting
growing progressively darker by the second, it was the most amazing
thing she’d ever seen.
    Snowy ski slopes, cabins tucked into the
wooded areas. She looked for the dam, but didn’t spot it. If she
lived here, she’d put a porch along the front of the whole
building, and add French doors to get out onto it.
    Of course, Steele wouldn’t. Someone could
spot him from below with a telescope. She’d do it anyway, and make
him wear a disguise. Like a gray wig, mustache, and buckteeth.
Rolling her eyes, she padded into the bathroom and opened the
toothbrush package, plopped on toothpaste, and started
scrubbing.
    That was her, always pretending. Drifting
away from real life to live in a world of her own creation. Steele
in a disguise? Not very likely.
    She used the hairbrush, and decided to wait
to shower. Coffee first.
    Cracking open her door, she listened for a
few seconds. No sounds. When she stepped out into the hallway, the
smell of freshly-brewed java snuck into her nostrils, making her
mouth water. The smell disappeared as she walked toward the
kitchen. Turning, she headed back toward the open double-doors to
Steele’s bedroom. The scent grew stronger.
    Stepping into his space, her eyes landed on
his bed. The brown quilt was thrown back, and cream-colored sheets
looked all rumpled. Sexy. She inhaled the manly scent of the room;
a combination of his designer sandalwood cologne, and rough, musky
man.
    “You can come all the way in.” He sat on one
end of the sectional sofa, a guitar in his lap, a notebook on the
cushion next to him. He gestured toward a small kitchen area tucked
into a closet space. “Coffee. Help yourself. There’s cereal, yogurt
and fruit in the fridge.” The closet doors had been closed
yesterday, and she hadn’t wanted to peek into his private
space.
    Beside the refrigerator, a microwave, a
dishwasher, and sink, lined the wall. All nicer than the ones in
her apartment.
    “Thanks. Just coffee for now.” She found a
cup and poured it full, then carried the pot to where he sat. “Can
I warm you up?” A phrase from her days as a waitress.
    His eyes darkened and his mouth opened.
    “Your coffee, Mr. McLairn.”
    A half-grin curved his lips and he held out
his cup. “Please.”
    She poured and walked back to the little
kitchen, her toes curling into the thick carpet. “I can’t believe
you have a kitchen in your bedroom.”
    “Doesn’t everyone?”
    Laughing, Tracy strolled to the small window
overlooking the pool. “Some of us don’t, no. Shocking, isn’t
it?”
    “It is.” He set down his guitar and coffee
cup and joined her, looking down into the big space. “We’ll have to
do something about that. Maybe a fundraiser?”
    She smiled at him. “You do a lot of those.
You’re always championing a cause.”
    He stared out. “It’s the least I can do.”
Taking her hand, his demeanor changed dramatically as his face lit,
making him look ten years younger. “C’mon. I’ve got a surprise for
you.”
    She held her cup tightly and jogged after
him. Into the bathroom. “A surprise? In here?”
    He stopped at the bathtub. “Ready to soak?”
He turned on the faucets and a river of water rushed into the
sparkling tub. Picking up one of the seven brightly colored
bottles, he read, “Grapefruit mango?” His face twisted as he looked
at her.
    She set her cup in a holder on the corner of
the tub. “Still not hungry.” The purple bottle next to her cup said lilac . “This one.” Reaching for it, she