Page 4 of See It Through

I reached inside, licking my lips with anticipation. Before I could slide it out, my office door swung open, slamming into the wall behind it.

There, standing in the doorway, was a man.

A very wet, very naked man. Chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides, his wild eyes bounced over me. I backed up a step, and he tensed like he was about to pounce.

My spine iced over, and my limbs became heavy with the dread of what might come next, but I didn’t let the fear paralyze me. Blindly feeling around on the desk beside me, paper crinkled under my hand. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do.

Before I could think better of it, I reared my arm back and threw my muffin at him.

Chapter Three

Remington

Something soft bounced offmy forehead, stopping me in my tracks.

“What the hell?” I bit out. The offending object rolled across my foot. “Why are you throwing muffins at me?”

“It was one muffin, and you have to leave. This is private property,” the intruder commanded in a high, quavering voice. “If you need clothes, I’ll throw them out the window once you’re outside.”

Next thing I knew, a desk chair launched toward me. The thick rug on the floor slowed it down. By the time it reached me, it was barely rolling. I gripped the back, keeping it between me and the woman now brandishing a keyboard like a baseball bat.

“Clothes? Why would I—?”

I looked down, shocked to find myself naked, though I wasn’t sure why. I’d been getting ready to take a shower when I’d heard movement and a voice coming from downstairs. My instincts had carried me down here without a plan…or clothes.

Too many years of living and working in dangerous situations kept my guard up, even though the angry bull facing me down didn’t strike me as a true threat. The longer we stared at each other, the more familiar she looked.

“Why are you still standing there?” she raved, the keyboard poised, ready to smash my head in. It wasn’t a heavy weapon, but it might do the trick. The scar running along my temple twinged. “If you don’t get out of here right now, I’m not going to bother giving you pants. You can fry your pasty ass off in the sun.”

I kept the chair strategically in front of me—and not because I was modest. I didn’t trust this woman not to make mincemeat out of parts of me better left intact.

“Seeing as this is my dad’s house, and you’re not him, I’m thinking you should be the one to get out.”

She barked an incredulous laugh.

“Nice try, bucko. This is Graham Town’s house. His son hasn’t been heard from in more than a decade.” Her fingers flexed, and those feral eyes roved over my face. “The asshole,” she muttered.

Now that I had been able to take a nice long look at the intruder without adrenaline coursing through me, I knew exactly who she was. When I’d left town, she’d been around fifteen or sixteen. She’d done a lot of growing up since then, but there was no denying those chocolate-brown eyes. They were a Kelly trait through and through. Same as her height, which had to be nearly six feet. I remembered her being coltish, like a newborn horse getting used to its gangly limbs. She’d filled out since then. In a black tank revealing long, tan arms defined with muscle and well-worn jeans clinging to strong, endless legs, there was no doubt Hannah Kelly was all woman.

She was also the second Kelly who’d forgotten me in the span of twenty-four hours.

“Don’t think it’s right to call me an asshole just yet, considering I haven’t been around to earn it,” I said.

Her big brown eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about? And why are you still standing in my office buck naked?”

“Which question do you want me to answer first?”

Groaning, she let her eyes roll heavenward. “None of them. Get outta here right now before I call Henry. He might be old, but he’s fast, and he’s a prepper. He’ll come down here with a cannon if I tell him some naked perv broke into the house.”

Her office? Interesting. Now that she’d said it, this room did have a distinctly feminine touch. Not that there were any pink or roses, but it smelled slightly sweet and a whole lot fresh, and artistic pictures of horses and landscapes hung neatly on the wall. Graham hadn’t been much of a decorator back when I was around, and I didn’t figure that had changed.

“Didn’t break in.”

She raised her chin. “Yeah, you did. I remember locking the door behind me.”

I winged a brow. “Do you?”

The tension in her arms eased as her eyes slid to the side. Like she was searching her memory, doubting herself.