Wasn’t unreasonable, but then… He wouldn’t want to be judged by his brothers’ behavior all the time either.

He slipped out and stepped behind Jaxi, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Okay, since it seems you think you run my life as well as Blake’s, tell me. If I agree that Hope is not her sister, and that I can be friends with her, then what does my friend need right now?”

Jaxi poked him in the chest. “Well, you might try asking her that question yourself, but since I know she’s as stubborn as you, I suggest you go over and tell her you’d like to do some repairs around the shop.”

He bit back a groan. “Like building shit?” She narrowed her eyes and he backpedaled. “Fine, makes sense. She won’t take money for the stuff that got lost, right?”

Jaxi shook her head.

“But I can go over and fix things.”

“Because that’s what friends do. They help each other.”

“Still want to know why you think we’re friends.”

Jaxi grinned, all her disapproval wiped clean now that he’d agreed to do her bidding. “Because either you’re friends or you’ve got the hots for her, and I figured you’d be more comfortable with friends for a while.”

She was far too intuitive. “That offer of tanning your hide still stands, girl.”

She stuck out her tongue cheekily. “All my spankings are saved for Blake.”

“Oh God, thanks for that image.” Matt hugged her tight for a minute then shoved her toward the door. “Go bother someone else for a change. Squeeze the babies for me or something.”

She waved then left him.

Left him alone with thoughts that were on a whole lot different path than they’d been when she walked in thirty minutes earlier. Family. Wrapped themselves into your lives and refused to let go.

And that was both a bit of heaven and a slice of hell.

Chapter Five

The bell over the shop door rang, and Hope looked up from her organizing, optimism rising. A couple more sales would go a long way to making her quota for the day.

When she spotted Matt, she wasn’t sure if it was exactly disappointment that rolled through her. He wouldn’t be buying any supplies, she was fairly certain of that.

The flutter of constant sexual interest she fought whenever he was around made it easy to smile at him. The tough part was making sure she didn’t look hungry at the same time.

“Mr. Coleman.”

Matt glanced over his shoulder. Hope laughed before she realized he hadn’t done it to fool around. He was actually blushing when he turned back, his cheeks flushed from more than coming in out of the cold.

“Sorry, but that’s my father’s name, and I couldn’t figure out how the hell he got into town faster than me when last I saw him…” He faded off then simply grinned. “Hi, how you doing?”

“Good. You doing your Christmas shopping?” There was a possibility, although she’d probably discount the sale too far to actually make any money if he was buying something for Marion. Guilt and desire were bad companions to private enterprise.

“Actually, I’m here to apologize. I was thinking about when I rescued you, and I messed up badly. I’ve been feeling terrible about it ever since.”

What? “You’ve felt guilty for rescuing me?”

Matt pulled off his gloves and coat, hanging them on the rack beside the quilting table. “Of course not, but the way I rescued you meant some of your supplies got damaged. There was no reason for that—I had a chain and could have hauled you clear easy enough. Now, I’m willing to pay for what—”

“Oh no.” Hope shook her head vigorously. “No bloody way. It was an accident, and you’re not responsible for anything except pretty much saving my life. I could have frozen to death if you hadn’t come along when you did.”

He wasn’t listening. Instead he was rolling up his sleeves, firm forearms coming into view, the dusting of hair over the muscles making her hyperaware of his every move.

She had it bad when even a glimpse of his arms was enough to get her wet. She crossed her own arms in self-defense and attempted to concentrate.

“What are you doing?” He paced the store, and she followed, dragging her gaze off his ass just in time as he spun around, wide smile beaming down.

“Just checking out the place. You’ve got some neat stuff in here. I mean, I already knew you had quilts, but there’s a lot of different projects.”

“Anytime you want to take up sewing…”

He leaned a hip on the cutting table, and the broad surface slid away from him. Matt stood rapidly as she grabbed for the edge and rebalanced it.

“Shit, sorry about that. I usually stand in the middle and brace it with my knee when I cut.”

He held out a hand. “I can fix that for you.”

Suspicion snuck over her. She turned and examined the bucket he’d had in his hands. The one he’d placed on the floor that she’d ignored while distracted by all the rest of him. It was filled with hammers and screwdrivers and other tools. “Matt, what are you doing here?”

He glanced around, feet shuffling in place like a naughty kid caught in the act. “Just thought I might offer you a hand. You know, brace the table, adjust shelves, anything that you need help with.”

“And you would do this because…?”

“I want to?”

Yeah, right. “Sure. You got up this morning and decided ‘I have nothing better to do today. I should volunteer my services to Hope.’ Is that it?”

Matt shrugged. “Well, I had a coffee first, but then yeah, that was pretty much what happened.”

Hope laughed. “Aren’t you a shitty liar? Don’t worry, you don’t have to feel guilty about anything getting ruined when I went off the road. I got everything back and most of it survived the adventure. It’s good, and frankly? Being saved from that ditch—you were right. It was just stuff and neither of our lives was worth risking. Please, put your guilt aside.”

The door opened, the bell ringing sweetly through the shop. This time it was a customer, so Hope waved farewell at Matt and went to help the woman.

Only, he didn’t leave, or not for good. At one point he headed out the door and she thought the strange visit was over, but before long he was back, coat once again on the hook, light tapping noises coming from the cutting area where he popped up and down like a broken jack-in-the-box. The entire time she pulled embroidery floss from the cupboard and helped her customer gather items for a project, he was there in the background. After the third time she’d forgotten what number thread she was going for, she steadfastly ignored him.

A few more people wandered in, and Hope got busy serving and chatting with the ladies, admiring projects and pictures of completed gifts they’d already mailed off to relatives for the holiday season.

It was over an hour later before she realized she was alone with him in the shop. It was obvious, no matter what she said, he was going to do whatever he pleased.

She wasn’t sure if that pissed her off or if she liked his stubbornness.

After filling a mug with coffee, she brought it over and placed it in front of him. “If you’re planning on staying much longer, you should know I will drape a display quilt over your back.”

Matt stood, pausing to brush his palms against his thighs before picking up the coffee and taking a long swallow. He closed his eyes as he hummed in approval, and she allowed herself one brief fantasy of kissing her way across his firm jawline, tasting his lips.

She snapped her gaze back up to meet his, attempting her most innocent expression possible.

He was grinning. “Am I in your way?”

She shrugged. “Not really, but I still don’t understand what you’re up to. Go home, Matt. If you don’t have chores to do, you certainly don’t need to waste a day off in my shop.”

He moved aside a basket full of patterns for Christmas ornaments and sat on the stool he’d cleared. “Yes, I’ve got some time off today, but I don’t consider it a waste to spend it here.”

Bloody fool. “What the hell is going on? Just tell me.”

“I want to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for help.”

“But you said we were going to be friends.”

Hope opened her mouth to respond and nothing came out. Friends. The night she’d offered that word to him rushed back. Her brain flooded with too many erotic images. Him stripping down, his cock tenting the front of his boxers. She might have had her eyes open a tiny crack as he stripped, and her penance was that now she had a good idea exactly what size equipment he was packing.

The sight of him, the feel of his hard body underneath hers in the tub—all of it rendered her speechless to respond.

Friends?

Good Lord. She was going to die right there in the shop.

He waited, sipping the coffee, one hand resting lightly on his thigh. The way the man filled out a pair of jeans ought to be illegal.

And while she had been the one to propose the friendship business, it had never been intended as anything more than a situation-saving comment. Friends with Matt? Bullshit on that, unless he meant the wave-to-each-other-across-the-street type of friend. That was the only safe kind considering how her body reacted to him.

Hope had to get out of this, and fast.

“Okay, friend, I don’t need any repair work done right now.”

“Fixed your table.”

She reached for the edge instinctively and attempted to move it. Nothing shifted, not even when she used two hands.

His grin got wider.

“Okay, great. Thank you for that—I appreciate it, and I’ll appreciate it even more the next time I have to cut some fabric and don’t have to do an octopus imitation to keep everything vertical.”