Clear as Glass

half-renovated bachelor pad full of mismatched furniture. Cripes, her shoes probably cost more than his ancient kitchen table.
A slender finger tapped her delicate chin. “I don’t see any reason why I can’t stay.”
Mitch snorted. This woman had no idea how much she turned him on. With a Herculean effort, he managed not to drool at her magnificent legs. “Trust me. You’re better off someplace else.”
“But I like it here. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way. On weekends, you’ll have the place to yourself because I’ll be visiting family in Syracuse.” Two eyebrows rose beneath side-swept bangs. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Impossible. I’ve been living by myself for years. I’ll know you’re here.” He couldn’t miss her. She was his type of woman—slender and athletic with a killer smile. Worse, her short chestnut hair did nothing to hide her pretty face and framed the most incredible pair of brown eyes he’d ever seen. Every time he met her gaze, Mitch’s brain dove to his groin. If her personality matched her good looks, he’d be in serious trouble. Better to put her miles away, not a few feet down his hallway. “I’ll find you another place to live.”
She covered her mouth, hiding a yawn. “Could I stay here tonight? It’s a little too late to nose around for an empty bed.” Her hands lowered, bumping against her thighs with a soft thump. “I know this is a huge imposition, but I’ve been in my car all day and I’m beat.”
He would’ve held his ground if she screamed and yelled, but her simple honesty got to him. Shifting his gaze, he glanced out the kitchen window at the smooth silver hood of her coupe. The expensive model looked as out of place as a Ferrari parked beside a tent. “You’ve got Virginia plates on your car,” he observed. “Did you drive up from there?”
“Yes, from Richmond.”
“That’s a ten-hour drive.”
She nodded and clasped her hands in front of her.
The woman standing in the middle of his kitchen looked like a little lost pixie. Any sane person would say she couldn’t hurt a bear like him, but Mitch knew better. Jaye Davis wasn’t like any other woman he’d encountered in months. Heck, make that years.
The instant he spotted her stranded on the side of the road, he knew she was special. Unlike most of the city girls he’d met, this one had the gumption to change her flat tire. She would’ve succeeded if she’d been strong enough to loosen the last two lugs.
Even though she had little reason to find anything funny about being stranded, she’d laughed when he joked about fighting off bears with her flashlight. He was lost the moment her laughter spilled into the cold, dead air.
For a magic moment, he thought she might hug him in gratitude—not for changing the tire, but for making her smile. The memory socked him in the gut. He’d do anything to make her smile again. “You can stay tonight. The extra bedroom is at the far end of the house.”
Her lips broadened into a grin. “Thank you. I’ll just bring in a couple of things from the car that shouldn’t stay out in the cold.”
“Fine.” Mitch hit redial on his phone. This time, his father picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, son. Tell Jayson to meet me in the office tomorrow at nine.”
“Yeah, sure.” Seeking privacy, Mitch left the kitchen. He entered his bedroom and eased the door shut. “We’ve got a problem, Dad. Jayson is a woman.”
“That’s weird. He sounded like a man in his email.”
“Her email, you mean. She goes by Jaye, not Jayson.” Mitch stopped at his window, squinting at the horizon. The bumpy spine of the Appalachian Mountains blocked the lower portion of the starry sky, just the way Mitch liked. The more he could close off this valley, the better. “I was willing to let a guy live in my spare bedroom. Not her.”
His father chuckled. “How cute is she?”
Mitch’s gut tightened, but he refused to admit Jaye knocked the air out of him every time he looked at her. “I just want to be alone.”
“Right. Everyone knows not to set foot in your house.”
Mitch gritted his teeth. “Does your wife know anyone who needs a roommate?”
“All of Elise’s friends are married with kids. None of them have extra bedrooms.” Irritation bled into Nick’s voice. “One of the single girls in town might share a room with Jaye, but you’ll have to strike up a conversation in order to find out.”
Mitch’s headache sharpened. He’d gotten so used to avoiding women, the prospect of calling one sounded as appealing as oral surgery.
He slumped onto the edge of his bed and thought about how quiet his life was an hour ago. “Send Jaye home. We don’t need an online store. We need to expand our product lines.”
“Hold on. Elise wants to tell me something.” Low murmurs produced a chuckle. “Elise wants to get pregnant. She’s ovulating, so I’d better get to work.”
The line went dead.
Mitch tossed the phone onto the mattress and held his head in his hands. Hearing his father talk about sex always made him wince, but the sting felt particularly deep tonight. Rather than come up with a solution for Mitch’s problem, Dad cut off the conversation to screw around with his wife. No big surprise. Every time Mitch talked about the factory, his father found an excuse not to listen.
Hiring Jaye to sell their stemware meant Blake Glassware wasn’t changing. Mitch felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He and his men were capable of making so much more than goblets and wine glasses.
He didn’t know what was worse—this powerlessness at work, or the knowledge his empty home was being invaded by a doe-eyed stranger whose sole purpose was to make his job more tedious.
Rubbing a hand across the thick prickle of hair on his head, Mitch muttered a curse. Every consultant who walked into the factory wreaked havoc—screwing up the inventory, offering useless