Carol Finch - Mr. Predictable - Mr. Predictable / Too Many Cooks

“Hey! What’s going on here!” he boomed.

Jake’s arrival allowed Moriah to shove Robert Fullerton back into his own space. The man had followed her outside for his version of slap and tickle, after she’d managed to dodge his advances in the cabin. Damn, this jerk had a lot to learn about backing off and calming down.

Oh sure, some guests flirted with her from time to time and she had her own way of sidestepping unwanted advances. Robert, however, didn’t respond as readily to the lack of interest she paid to his suggestive innuendoes. If the domineering chump didn’t back off she’d send Tom over to have a man-to-man talk with him. Tom had been called in a couple of times the past five years—usually with miraculous results.

“Buzz off, pal,” Robert scowled when Jake advanced on him. “Sorry, birthday boy, but you’ll have to wait your turn. Moriah and I are getting acquainted right now—Whoa! Calm down, man!”

Moriah gasped in surprise when Jake clenched his fists in the front of Robert’s dress shirt and jerked him clean off the ground. “That isn’t necessary,” she assured him, trying to step between the two men.

“Yeah, it is,” Jake contradicted in a growl, never taking his eyes off the fifty-eight-year-old businessman. “Listen up, Bobby-boy, you behave yourself around Ms. Randell or I’ll be all over you like a bad rash. Are we clear on that?”

Robert shoved himself away and made a big production of smoothing the wrinkles from his silk shirt. “Look, bozo, I happen to be very influential in—”

“I don’t give a flying f—ig where your influence lies in the world outside Triple R,” Jake snapped brusquely. “Around here, you’re a guest and Ms. Randell is your recreational director. You treat her with the courtesy and respect she deserves. Starting now. Apologize.”

Robert’s square chin shot up defiantly. “No, she was stringing me along.”

Moriah opened her mouth to deny the preposterous claim, but Jake beat her to the punch.

“No, she didn’t,” he snarled ferociously. “Apologize!”

When Robert stubbornly refused, Jake pounced like a cheetah to twist the older man’s arm up the middle of his back.

“Ouch, you son of a—”

“Now!” Jake growled down the man’s neck.

“Fine…Ow!…I’m sorry,” Robert yelped.

Jake pushed him away, as if he found physical contact offensive. Moriah knew that feeling exceptionally well. She’d shivered with repulsion when Robert tried to slobber all over her. She had the unmistakable feeling Robert considered himself a regular ladies’ man. No doubt, Robert used his power of position to hit on women in the workplace—and anywhere else he could make a pass.

“Now, beat it, Full-of-Yourself,” Jake demanded.

“The name is Fullerton,” Robert said hatefully.

“I think you and I need to take a long ride up the mountain in the morning,” Jake insisted.

“Be careful you don’t knock him off the mountain-top,” Moriah advised, lips twitching.

Jake grinned wickedly. “Not to worry, Ms. Randell. I’ll make it look like an accident.”

Robert turned tail and scampered, lickety-split, into his cabin. Jake waited until the door slammed shut before he pivoted toward Moriah. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

“That’s okay. I know the way,” she said, uncertain if she wanted his company at the moment. She wasn’t sure she had a secure grip on her emotions. Watching him rise to her defense like her personal knight in shining armor made too great an impact on her. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone standing up for her unless she specifically requested help—and that was always her last resort. Independent though she was, she kinda liked the way Jake defended her honor and discouraged future offenses.

Moriah told herself not to get used to the gratifying feelings that flooded through her, because Jake wouldn’t be around long. He was one of her guests and that was the extent of their short-term relationship, she reminded herself for about the fiftieth time.

He took her arm and steered her toward the lodge. “I’m walking you back so I can apologize all over myself for being an ass when I got here and for…um…that kiss yesterday.”

Moriah missed a step, then hurried to keep up with his long, swift strides. “That’s okay, Jake. I know you didn’t come here of your own free will. As for the other incident, I challenged you and you simply proved to me that you could be a little reckless and impulsive.”

“Apparently, I can be too reckless and impulsive where you’re concerned,” he grumbled. “That’s not a good thing. But I plan to be on my best behavior from here on out and change my rigid lifestyle.”

Moriah pulled up short and peered into his shadowed face. “It sounds as if you’ve been doing some soul-searching.”

“I have,” he confirmed with a decisive nod. “My inner self and I had a chat and we’ve decided I need to change my habits and lose the overly structured routine. I’m going to develop a hobby that’s unrelated to work.”

“That’s wonderful!” she enthused.

He tugged her alongside him. “In a week you won’t recognize me as Mr. Predictable.”

“Good. Your sisters will be enormously pleased.”

“They’ll get their money’s worth,” he promised as he circled around to the back of the lodge. “Now, about Bobby-boy. If he tries to give you any lip—verbal or physical—you let me know and I’ll straighten him out again.”

Moriah chuckled at his vehement tone. “That won’t be necessary. Tom usually handles incidents like this when I ask him to.”

Jake’s brows jackknifed. “This happens on a regular basis?”

“No, only a couple times when corporate-executive Don Juans think I should be part of their recreational activities.” Moriah sailed past him to climb the wooden deck that led to her apartment. “Well, thanks for the help. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.”

She glanced back to see him standing there with his hands stuffed in the hip pockets of his jeans, his gaze intense. A shiver—born of a source she refused to acknowledge—rippled through her body. She had the impulsive urge to hug the stuffing out of him for coming to her rescue and gallantly walking her home. But she knew she couldn’t stop with an appreciative hug. It was becoming alarmingly evident that her feminine body threw off sparks when she got within ten feet of him—which was good reason to keep her distance. Something deep inside her called out to him, needing and wanting things—like desire and passion and romance—that had been missing in her life.

Gad, she was being ridiculous! She didn’t need those things to make her happy. Her life was rewarding and fulfilling, just the way it was. Stiffening her resolve, Moriah reminded herself that she intended to have a talk with Jake, too, so they could return to solid footing.

“Come in a minute,” she invited as she pushed open the door.

“No, I don’t think that’s such a hot idea,” he mumbled.

Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Why not?”

He shifted restlessly from one booted foot to the other, then stared up at the moon, as if it suddenly demanded his undivided attention. “Because, for all my good intentions, I’m still attracted to you. Seeing Bobby paw at you made me feel too protective, territorial and possessive, even when I felt like a damn hypocrite for practically giving you a tonsillectomy…and the other stuff…yesterday morning.”

Moriah felt herself moving instinctively toward him, even when that warning voice inside her head yelled, Keep your distance! You know these kinds of relationships can get tangled up if you let them. Besides, you don’t know squat about interactions and social dynamics between a man and woman. You flunked Romance 101, remember?