Page 26 of The Love Fix (The Sunrise Cove #8)

“Lexi.”

“No.”

“Lex.”

“Shh,” she mumbled, burrowing deeper into her bed. “She’s sleeping. And turn off the light.”

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Heath’s husky male voice finally penetrated, and she froze. In direct contradiction with her suddenly pounding heart, she

let her tone drip with sarcasm. “My, Ashley, how your voice has changed.”

But nothing. No more words. She cracked open an eye, and yep, found the last person on the planet she expected to see. “Why

is it still dark?” she groaned, rolling to her belly, hiding her head beneath her pillow.

“Ashley got a late-night email. She sold a set of her saw blades, but the woman needs them today for her husband’s birthday,

so Ash offered to deliver them to San Francisco. She left a few hours ago, before dawn, so she wouldn’t hit work traffic.

Didn’t she tell you?”

Lexi lifted her head. “She sold what?”

“She hunts down big saw blades that are discarded from overuse, and then paints Tahoe landscapes on them, turning them into

wall art. She uses the back corner of my grandpa’s garage. She sells a bunch of stuff on Etsy and other places. Don’t you

two ever talk?”

“Hey, Mr. Judgy-ass, I’ll have you know—” She rolled to her back and... fell right off her childhood twin bed to the hardwood

floor. Staring up at the ceiling, she sighed.

Heath came around the bed and crouched low, offering her a hand. “You okay?”

Instead of answering or taking his hand, she grabbed the pillow that had fallen with her and covered her face. “Just leave

me here.”

He tossed the pillow aside, then studied her, from her no-doubt-flushed face, to her bedhead hair, then southward. His frown

vanished, replaced by an almost smile.

Which was when she remembered that her pj’s were nothing but a T-shirt that said nope, not today... and a pair of itty-bitty bikini undies. “Well, this is embarrassing.”

He grabbed the blanket off the bed and tossed it over her. “That’s not what I’m feeling. And you have no idea, do you.”

“About what?”

“How beautiful you are.”

With a snort, she staggered upright, wrapping herself in the blanket. “I need at least an hour to even approach almost pretty.

And at the risk of repeating myself, why is it still dark outside? Why are you here? Why don’t I have caffeine?”

“It’s dark outside because it’s five a.m., and I’m here because I’m your partner in crime for the third envelope delivery today.

You don’t have caffeine because I’m a very stupid man who woke you up before making coffee.

I’ll go rectify that right now. But first.

..” He scooped her up like she weighed next to nothing—which was most definitely not the case—and set her on her feet, holding on to her hips for a second until she was steady.

Their gazes locked. The second turned into a bunch of seconds as the air seemed to do that crackle thing again. “Static electricity,”

she said.

He gave a slow shake of his head.

His hair was damp, probably from a very recent shower if the citrusy, woodsy scent wafting off him meant anything, so tempting

that she nearly buried her face in the crook of his neck to get a better whiff. But he was... shaking? She pulled back.

“Are you... You’re laughing at me .”

He reined in the amusement, but the smile remained. “Cute.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You did hear the part where I’m not caffeinated yet, right? Laughing at me in this state is dangerous

to your health. So is calling me cute .”

He outright grinned at her now. “I’m laughing at us ,” he said. “We don’t want to want this, we don’t want to want each other, and yet you just inhaled me like I was your first

coffee of the year and I’m—”

“Still touching me.”

They both looked down at his hands, most definitely still on her, her barely dressed, him in jeans and a button-down, sleeves

shoved up past his elbows. Standing there in almost nothing, with him fully dressed, made her quiver in a ridiculous way.

In a ridiculously good way. Way too good.

“Shit.” Yanking his hands from her, he strode to the other side of the bed.

Her mouth twitched. “You think that’s far enough?”

“You don’t want to know what I think.”

Actually, she did, she really, really did, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. Ugh. “Just give me today’s envelope and get out.”

“Trust me, I’d love to get out, but Ashley’s got the truck.”

She stared at him, then shook her head. “Whatever. I’ll take a rideshare.”

“We’re going to Santa Barbara. It’s a seven-hour trip. That’s fourteen hours on the road, not counting however much time is

spent with the recipient.”

Seriously? What was up with her karma? “Fine,” she said. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow.”

“Ashley’s giving a three-day workshop at the city college starting tomorrow.”

Lexi crossed her arms, not wanting to delay that long, not wanting a reason for having to stay a day past six weeks. “This

is ridiculous. Daisy’s gone. We could be mailing these, she’d never know.”

He at least looked sympathetic as he said, “It’s not what she wanted. She wanted contact made in person.”

“Fine. Can I borrow your car?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll rent one.” Her credit card would cry, but so be it. She wasn’t willing to postpone doing this, because that would

extend her stay even further. And she was starting to worry that every day she stayed was another little string from her heart

to Sunrise Cove.

And the people in it.

“You don’t need to rent a car,” one of those very people said.

She raised a brow. “Why not?”

“Two people make the deliveries, always, for safety reasons.”

“Oh come on,” she said. “Daisy really dictated that?”

“No, I did. Daisy knew these people, but we don’t. We’re trying to follow her wishes by delivering in person without advance notice, as she asked, by spreading them out with a week between, like she asked, but I’m not willing to send either of you out there alone.”

“We’re grown-ups, Heath. If I want to go alone, I can go alone.”

“I understand that,” he said. “But there’s no reason for you to when I’m willing to go with you. Get ready. We need to leave

in the next fifteen minutes to avoid traffic on the Eighty.”

And then he was gone.

Ugh. She took a shower, blew her hair dry, and dressed with more care than she had in... She didn’t know how long. Hell,

she even put on mascara.

Her armor.

But also, she wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to know what he was missing out on. Childish? Yes. But there was something

about Heath, about his easy calm in any situation that made her want to ruffle his feathers. She wanted to see what he had

beneath his own personal armor.

She found him outside, leaning up against his car as he thumbed through his phone. “That was thirty minutes” was all he said

as he pushed off the car and slid behind the wheel.

She flipped him off behind his back.

“I saw that,” he said, and hit the gas.

A few minutes later, she saw the post office up ahead. “Stop!”

He pulled over and glanced over, but she was already hopping out of the car and dropping an envelope into the big blue mailbox

on the sidewalk. When she slid back into the passenger seat, he raised an eyebrow.

“Margo’s check.”

“You... mailed it.”

“I did.” She lifted her chin. “I put a stamp on it yesterday. We’ve already made contact, so I didn’t break any rules.” She

stared at him, waiting for him to object.

He put the car in drive, pulled away from the curb, and said with impressive sarcasm, “As long as you didn’t break any rules.”

“I actually like rules.” She liked order. “And you?”

“Rules were made to be broken.”

She had no idea why that scraped at something low in her belly. They spent the next half hour in silence. Her feeling a little

discouraged, not exactly knowing why. Him in his driving zone, dark sunglasses and no expression on his face, cool and calm,

thoroughly ignoring her.

Which only made it all the more confusing when he pulled into a drive-thru and ordered himself coffee and a breakfast bagel.

He glanced her way.

Word hoarder .

But she caved because she wasn’t stupid, and she absolutely was hungry. “Same,” she said. See? He wasn’t the only one who

could hoard words, thank you very much.

Thirty minutes later she’d eaten her bagel and finished her coffee. She had to pee, but she planned to drown in it before

admitting any such thing. Instead, she was on her phone, scrolling through Instagram when she stilled in disbelief and irritation.

Heath glanced over.

He still hadn’t spoken, and she absolutely hadn’t wanted to be the first one to crack, but... “Ashley’s not in San Francisco.

At least not anymore.”

Another glance.

She just met his gaze and raised a brow. If he wanted to know, he was going to have to use words.

Playing hardball earned her a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it quirk on one side of his mouth. “Where is she, then?”

Aha! Four whole words! “She’s in Berkeley, at an aerial acrobatics camp! She just posted some pics. What the actual hell?”

She couldn’t say she’d ever seen him surprised, but his eyes widened slightly. “Maybe it’s an old post.”

“Her caption says ‘GUYS! THIS CLASS IS THE BEST!’ all in caps. She posted it an hour ago.”

Heath just kept driving, going ten miles per hour over the speed limit, probably to get there faster and avoid any extra minutes

with her. She hoped he got a ticket. “No comment?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Well played.”

“Why aren’t you angry?”

Another shrug. “Anger is an unproductive emotion and a waste of energy.”

“So you’re smug on top of being a know-it-all?”

He nearly smiled, she could tell. Then he said, “If you want to know what she’s up to so badly, why she saddled us with each

other today, just ask her.”

“You know what? I will.” She called Ashley on speaker.

“Hi, this isn’t Ashley’s phone. You’ve reached Sisters’ Anonymous, a gentle help service that brings sisters back together,

especially when one sister’s wrong—cough, you , cough—and the other sister’s just trying to bring joy to her older sister’s life. Don’t blame her, because—”