Page 13 of Married in Michigan

“Yes sir.” I gesture at the pot. “Coffee pots get run with vinegar after every guest.”

He frowns at me. “Why?”

“It kills any mold or mildew and removes calcification. So each guest who makes coffee gets as clean and new a coffee maker as possible.”

He watches as I wipe down the counters again, and then use glass cleaner on the refrigerator shelves. “You’re pretty fucking thorough, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m paid to be as thorough as humanly possible.”

His gaze is speculative, those lion-golden eyes fixed on me with an interest that makes my girl parts sit up and beg, and my heart and mind retreat behind my walls. “Are you paid to eavesdrop on conversations, too?”

“No, that’s just a perk of the job,” I hear myself say, before my professional filter can stop it.

He snorts. “Allergies, huh?”

I fake another cough. “Yeah, allergies. Bad this year.” I sniffle, for good measure.

His eye roll is a pretty good indicator he’s not buying it.

The coffee maker finishes burbling the last of the vinegar, so I dump the pot, rinse it until the scent of vinegar is gone, and then run the machine again with fresh cold water to rinse the vinegar out of the machine.

“Why the snort? For real?”

I hesitate. “I told you. Allergies.”

I’m keeping busy just to keep away from him and his eyes and his scent and his heat and that stupid shredded body of his—I’m sweeping the kitchen even though it can’t get much cleaner.

I’m not even aware that he’s moved from his place at the table, but his hand latches onto the broom, halting it. I flinch, my eyes floating slowly and reticently upward to his.

“Why did you snort, Miss Poe?” His voice is commanding.

I blink, chewing on my tongue to keep a salty retort from getting me fired. “I…I have to get the rug to the cleaners.”

“Mom’s got that handled. The janitor guy is taking it to a specialist.”

“You mean Rick, head of maintenance?” I say, and immediately wince at the sass in my voice.

Paxton waves a hand. “Whoever. The guy, he’s handling it.” He doesn’t let go of the broom, which somehow prevents me from going anywhere. “Why did you snort, Miss Poe?”

I bite down hard on my lip. “Because sometimes my attitude gets the better of me. I apologize, Mr. deBraun.”

“Answer the question.” He’s closer to me, standing face to face, towering over me, golden-brown eyes commanding and demanding.

“I’m not supposed to converse with guests like this, sir,” I say, edging for the exit, ducking my head to escape those damned sexy, predatory golden eyes.

“I’m not a guest, I’m your boss.”

“With all due respect, sir, your mother is my boss.”

He smirks. “Yes sir, no sir. I like that.” He’s looking at me.Intome.

I only just restrain the urge to smack him across the face. “I have to go,sir.”

“You don’t.”

I blink. “I. Um. Yes—I do, as a matter of fact. Once I’m finished cleaning this unit, I’m done…and I’m done. So, I have to go.”

“You have to answer my question, Miss Poe.”