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Nicolette had to fight to tear her gaze from Garth’s chiseled body. She’d thought the guy in the scary movie who could turn into a wolf had been hot. Now that she’d seen Garth without his shirt on, she realized the other guy wasn’t really all that.

The guy before her was all that and more.

Much more.

She nearly bit her fist at the sight of him shirtless. The phrase “wet-panty material”

made a whole lot more sense to her now than it had before. There wasn’t a spot on the man that didn’t seem to be honed to perfection. A myriad of tattoos covered his chest and abdomen. She looked harder at one of the tattoos and tipped her head, trying to make sense of it. When she realized it was a hammer like the god Thor was said to have, she grinned. There was hope she really would get a real live Viking naked very soon.

Garth cleared his throat and Nicolette’s cheeks heated.

“Sorry. I was admiring your, um, tattoos. I’m going to get cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”

She got the wine bottle opener out of the drawer and practically threw it at the man before scurrying out of the kitchen and through the living room. She grabbed her cell phone on the way up the stairs and called Clara at once before she’d hit the landing.

Clara answered on the third ring. “What’s shakin’ bacon?”

“I’m pretty sure I brought a Viking god that I just met home with me to have sex. That was after I cupcaked him.”

Dead silence greeted her.

It ticked on for a few seconds as Nicolette yanked her cupcake-covered T-shirt off and tossed it onto her bathroom floor. “Are you there?”

“Yes. I’m trying to figure out if I had a brain aneurysm or if I heard you right,”

returned Clara.

“Clara!”

Nicolette squeaked. “I need your advice right now.”

“On what part? The bringing-home-a-guy-to-have-sex-with or the Viking-cake bit?”

“Not a Viking cake. A Viking covered in cake—erm, cupcake,”

stressed Nicolette.

“Okay then. I heard that right the first time,”

answered Clara. “I leave you alone for like a day and you’ve already brought a stranger home with you. Girl, for real. An ounce of self-preservation goes a long way.”

“He doesn’t feel dangerous to me,”

Nicolette said softly as she rifled through her dresser drawer for another T-shirt.

Clara sighed loudly. “On a good note, your gut is pretty much never wrong. On another good note, if he’s covered in the cupcakes you ordered for your class, there’s a higher-than-average chance the cupcakes will kill him, and that would mean he’d be too dead to be a threat to you.”

“Not funny,”

snapped Nicolette before huffing and grabbing her go-to favorite T-shirt from high school. She pulled it on and then eased her hair from the back of it. “Am I nuts? I really want this guy in a dirty, dirty way.”

Clara laughed. “It’s about time you wanted a guy that way, but could you wait until I’m in the same country, so someone is close in the event your gut is wrong? Call your uncle and let him know you have someone there.”

“What do you mean in the same country? You told me you were flying to Colorado.”

Clara cleared her throat. “Oh yes. I meant another state. Sorry. I’m still stunned by you announcing you brought a man home with you.”

Nicolette stilled. “Hold on, did you suggest I call my uncle and tell him I’m having a random hook up with a guy I barely know?”

Clara snorted. “When you put it that way, no. Maybe phrase it different.”

“The minute I have a boy in the house leaves my mouth, my uncle will descend upon this place. You know how he is,”

said Nicolette.

“I do. And I know why he is the way he is,”

she said before taking a deep breath. “Question. If you’re on the phone with me, where is the Viking-Cupcake Dude? Tell me you didn’t forget about him like you forgot about opening the window and not closing the door.”

A line of French curses came from her. She’d forgotten Garth was downstairs waiting on her which was ironic seeing as how she’d called Clara in the first place to talk about the man.

“You never used to be this bad. What’s been up with you lately?”

“No idea but I have to go.”

“Text me sex updates. And I’d advise that you refrain from licking any of that cupcake off his body. It could be hazardous to your health,”

said Clara with a laugh.

Nicolette hung up on her friend and put her phone in her back pocket. She then did her best to wash away any remaining cupcake residue from her arms, hands, and the ends of her hair. It was greasier than it should be, and she began to wonder if Garth was right. Had he saved the children from certain demise by ruining their treat?

She stepped back from the bathroom sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror. A stranger stared back. A wild woman who was about to go downstairs and do something totally out of character.

A slow smile spread over Nicolette’s face.

About time.

Another thought hit her, and she lifted her Viking T-shirt to see what bra she had on. She then peeked down the front of her jeans, wondering if her panties and bra matched. As luck would have it, they did. And they were a set that was actually sexy, unlike a number of her panties that had inspirational phrases on them. She’d found a great sale on the under items and had bought the place out. She loved the positive messages.

Clara took every chance she could to threaten to burn them. Apparently, they were anything but sexy to men.

The set she was in now had been a gift from Clara, so they’d work perfectly. She breathed into her hand next, making sure she didn’t have offensive breath. Sinking to a new low, she lifted her arms and sniffed her pits. With all the colliding into hot hunks and speed walking from the square, she wanted to be sure she didn’t smell like sweat.

She didn’t.

She looked in the mirror. “Clara, I’m glad you’re not here. You’d never let me live this down.”

With mustered courage, Nicolette left her bathroom and glanced out the window as she heard something that sounded like thunder in the distance. She went to the window to ensure it was closed tight and then tried to lock it—only to find the lock was broken. Had it always been that way?

She couldn’t remember. She’d never had a need to lock it before. Her gaze drifted to the back corner of the yard, and she paused when she saw the back lights were burnt out again. The things went through light bulbs like they were going out of style.

Something else to add to the list.

Satisfied that if a storm came, rain wouldn’t get in, she backed away from the window and headed downstairs again. She found Garth in the living room, looking at framed photos that adorned the mantel above the fireplace.

He glanced back at her—and then quirked a brow at the sight of her shirt. “What is that?”

She tugged at the shirt. “If you tell me it’s hideous, I’ll make you leave. It’s my favorite T-shirt. I’ve had it for years and I already told you I have a thing for Vikings. It’s old, but it’s perfect for me. Vintage.”

“Kind of like I am.”

He brought his glass of wine to his lips and looked to be doing his best to avoid laughing.

She crossed the room to him and he handed her a glass of wine. Nerves got the better of her, and she gulped it down as if it were water and she a parched man in a desert.

Garth grinned more. “I like a woman who can hold her spirits.”

Instantly, heat flared up her neck. “I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be. Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want to have happen, okay?”

The concern in his green gaze moved her and helped to calm her nerves slightly.

She nodded.

“You don’t have much of a Southern accent. It’s faint and barely there,”

he observed. “Are you from Georgia?”

“I am. Correction, mostly.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I wasn’t born here. I came to live here when I was nearly four. That’s when my uncle, on my mother’s side, was given custody of me. Before you ask, I don’t know what happened to my parents above the fact they passed away. He did mention that I’m named after someone close to him. I trust my uncle enough that if he feels I need to know the details, he’ll tell me. As for my accent, I never really developed one. It’s funny…with how thick my uncle’s Greek accent is, I’m probably very lucky I didn’t develop a Southern accent mixed with a Greek one. That would have been something to hear.”

Garth inclined his head and looked back at the pictures on the mantel. “I take it the other woman in these is your roommate.”

“Yep. That’s Clara.”

“It’s clear to see the two of you are close,”

he returned.

“We’ve known each other for what feels like all our lives. She’s like a sister to me. I’m an only child.”

“Lucky,”

he said partially under his breath before he took another sip of wine.

“Let me guess, you and your sibling don’t get along?”

she asked.

He stiffened. “That is putting it mildly. There are days it feels like my brother and I might kill each other.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He didn’t answer.

“Are the two of you close in age?”

He nodded. “Very.”

“What about you? Where are you from?”

she asked.

He hesitated a bit and then glanced at her. “Let’s go with Sweden.”

“Now who’s the odd one?”

Garth’s gaze collided with hers, and any reservation she might have had about giving herself to the man vanished. Nothing but need remained.

He reached out slowly, his fingers coming just shy of touching the silkscreen print of the Viking on her shirt. “You know this isn’t historically accurate.”

She bit her lower lip as his finger grazed her breast. “Then I should remove it at once.”

He flashed a dashing white smile and set his wineglass on the mantel. “Great idea.”