Larger Than Life by Alison Kent (read the beginning after the end novel .txt) 📕

orders, pay bills, respond intelligently to her programmer's e-mails—and do it all with Mick Savin less than ten feet away.

Even knowing that Candy was working at the far end of the room hadn't been enough of a deterrent for Neva to keep her mind on her work. Her mind had been on Mick. Only Mick. Solely Mick. He was getting to her.

And she was letting him—a fact that made the slip in her armor worse than had he simply loosened the chinks on his own, worked his way in, charmed her, seduced her. But, no. She saw something in him that made her want to help him destroy everything she'd built. Judging by the way her mind couldn't let him go, she was doing a hell of a job.

She'd come back to the house thirty minutes ago to make lunch. She and Jeanne Munroe laughed at how they both seemed to make more sense out of the chaos in their lives when up to their elbows in food. Unfortunately for Neva, Jeanne was a much better cook. All Neva knew how to do was make sandwiches, soup, meals out of the freezer or boxes, and breakfast.

Which was why when Mick and Candy walked into the kitchen moments later, it was to the scent of maple syrup, pancakes, and bacon. "Ooh, girl. Mmm, mmm, mmm." Candy smacked her lips. "I don't know how you manage to get sugar into every meal, but I love you for it."

"Lucky for you, missy, your thighs are much more forgiving than mine." Neva turned to look at Candy. Or started to. Except when looking over her shoulder, she instead caught Mick's eye. It hadn't been but half an hour since she'd seen him, so it made no sense that she'd missed him so much. "How 'bout you, Mick? Do you mind being served sugar three times a day?"

"As long as I'm being served, I'm good with sugar, steak, baked potatoes, pork chops, mashed potatoes, lobster, au gratin potatoes—"

Neva cut him off with a laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll make a trip into town and stock up on meat and potatoes."

Candy's gaze drifted from one to the other. "Does that mean you're going to be staying with us awhile, Mick? Neva doesn't stock up for just anyone."

Neva stared down at the pancake browning on the griddle and waited to hear Mick's reply. She knew he had no real reason to stay, and all the reasons she wanted him to were selfish, not to mention a risk to her cause. Still, she found herself holding her breath, her hand tightly squeezing the handle of the pancake turner.

Mick slowly crossed to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat. "I was thinking I might head out of here soon. Later today. The hospitality's much appreciated, but I need to get out of the way and back to work."

"What do you do?" Candy asked.

"He's an engineering project consultant," Neva answered before Mick could draw a breath to speak. She didn't want Candy to think she'd taken Mick in without knowing anything about him, but she also didn't want to hear how easily he lied.

"Right," he said behind her. "I've been on vacation this week. Checking out a hunting lease in New Mexico."

"Meaning you'll be back this fall when the season opens."

Funny. Neva hadn't thought about that. "You'll have to drive down and say hello."

"Sure. I'll do that."

But Neva knew that he never would, and was certain Candy knew it, too. It was the polite talk of strangers eating breakfast for lunch. And it wasn't productive to think anything about Mick being here would ever be anything more.

She slid the pancake onto a stack of five others, added the bacon, and carried the platter along with a pitcher of warm syrup to the table. "Eat up. I wouldn't want it said I sent an injured man away hungry."

While Mick and Candy served themselves, Neva returned to the stove and poured out two more circles of batter. She needed space, time, separation, whatever to get hold of the ridiculous emotions insisting she knew him enough to trust him when there were a thousand unanswered questions she couldn't ask. He would expect tit for tat, which she wasn't sure she could give. Other lives depended on her discretion.

Thankfully, Candy saved her from doing just that. "So, Mick, where are you headed? Where do you come from?"

Yes! Neva watched the edges of the batter begin to bubble and blessed her girlfriend's nosiness.

"I work in Manhattan," he said, and she looked back in time to see him lift his glass of orange juice and drink. "But I grew up in New Orleans."

"You have family there?" Candy prodded. Mick shook his head. "I was an only child. My parents were already in their forties when I was born. They've both been gone now for several years."

"I'm sorry," Candy said, echoing Neva's thoughts as she flipped the pancakes before turning to face the table.

"Don't be." Mick dug back into his food, frowned down into his plate. "They were great together. A long and happy life. And they died together. A freak auto accident. I doubt either would've survived long without the other around. It was for the best." A shadow of sadness softened his gaze.

Neva's heart melted. "It couldn't have been easy for you, though. Being left all alone like that. And so suddenly."

"I was in the army then," he said, shaking his head. "I never had a chance to be alone."

Yet he worked alone, existed alone. If she hadn't picked him up on the side of the road, he would have died there alone. As far as she knew, he hadn't contacted anyone since. And then it hit her. When he told her the truth, she trusted him. When he lied, she didn't believe a word he said.

He was more of a loner than she was. And she couldn't help but wonder how close they were to being kindred spirits—even though their reasons for their