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every half hour on the hour.”
    “Mr. Sullivan advises he loves you, will you marry him and you’re out of coffee creamer.”
    “Tell him he’s bonkers, no I won’t and to get out of my refrigerator…and get out of my house for that matter!”
     
    {
     
    Frannie arrived home with tense shoulders, a stiff neck and a bottle of coffee creamer. Her front door was unlocked and the sound of Christmas carols on the all-music channel blared from her TV. The treacherous leap of her heart wasn’t from happiness he was here, she told herself. It was anger. No, it was fury. Yeah, fury is good. Fury would keep her from remembering the taste of his mouth or the feel of his hands.
    Entering her kitchen, she glared at a pair of very well-filled-out jeans sticking out from under her kitchen sink. Last night’s dishes had vanished and the trash had been taken out. Well, at least he’s housebroken. The refrigerator door swung widely under too firm a hand. Jaw clenched, she moved a six-pack of beer she hadn’t bought out of the way so she could put her creamer on the top shelf.
    “I could have you arrested for breaking and entering, you know that? And I never said you could store your beer in my fridge.” At her voice, Jinx’s dark head popped up and he smiled at her. He dried his hands on one of her flowery dishtowels. Her eyes flew to his long fingers and her nipples puckered in memory. A gulp stuck in her throat. She refused to let her eyes drop to the way the denim hugged his thighs when he stood. Nope, not going to look. Too late. Dayum .
    “The beer is yours, I just bought it and I didn’t break anything. I fixed something. Last night I noticed your faucet had a slow drip. So I came over and fixed it. But I dropped the old washer down the drain and had to remove the trap to get it out. Everything’s working fine now.”
    “Wonderful. Just call you Mr. Plumber. Now how did you get into my house?”
    Arms crossed, he leaned on the sink and sizzled her with a sultry look. “You tape an extra house key to the inside of your mailbox, just like I do.”
    “Great. Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass on the way out.” Frannie turned and flounced up the stairs. Each silent step she expected Jinx to follow her, but he didn’t. Changing into a pair of casual jeans and a sweater, she strained to hear any sound he might be making below. She heard nothing over the sound of holiday music.
    Bent at the waist, she peered over the railing on the way down the stairs. Come in, sit a spell, make yourself comfortable, why doncha? Jinx was sitting in her living room reading her newspaper. He’d made himself quite at home. His boots rested on the rug just like last night, his coat lay across the back of her couch and his feet were propped up on her coffee table. Molded to his body, his dark blue jeans and pale gray sweatshirt highlighted every inch of masculine beauty. Lust slammed into her like a freight train and her bones rattled in her skin. The force of desire hit, leaving her bruised and aching with want.
    I so need to buy batteries in the worst way.
    “Hey.” Jinx folded the paper as she entered the room. “Where do you want to eat? There’s a new Thai place down on Markwood Street we could try.”
    “Go ahead. Enjoy it. I already ate,” Frannie lied, determined to ignore him. Like a pesky fly, maybe he would buzz off if she didn’t play his game. She grabbed the romance novel she’d been reading off the corner of the coffee table and curled up in the armchair beneath the lamp. Never once looking in his direction, she buried her nose in the pages.
    “Want to catch a movie?”
    “Nope.”
    “Want to go upstairs and play doctor?”
    “Nope.”
    “How about running off to Vegas for a quickie wedding by an Elvis impersonator?”
    “Nope.”
    At her silence, he grew quiet and studied her. Feeling his eyes, she focused her gaze to the printed page. Although not reading, she turned the page after a few minutes. Hocus