Find My Way Home (Harmony Homecomings) by Michele Summers

psychedelic patterns. This isn’t the Dog.”
    “Not even for Maddie?” she challenged, tossing paper napkins in the garbage. She turned and Keith stood mere inches in front of her. Only a sliver of air separated her lacy tunic from his black polo shirt. His musky, outdoorsy scent filled her head.
    “Maybe,” he said slowly. “How good are your skills of persuasion?” Keith brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
    Bertie cleared her throat and her head at the same time. “Well, I’ve made a few selections…and…the drawings…” Her voice sounded breathy. Yikes.
    Keith moved back, a sexy smile played around his lips. “I’ve signed your proposal with a few revisions, and there’s a check on the counter for your retainer.” He grabbed a set of keys from a bowl on the counter and turned to leave.
    “Hey…we’re not done here. You need to make some final decisions.” He kept moving toward the door. “I hope you like mauve. I plan to bathe your entire bedroom in it,” she said, following behind him.
    Bertie let out a squeal as Keith turned suddenly and backed her against the bare dining room wall. He leaned forward, planting his hands on the wall beside her head.
    “If I see any mauve anywhere in my house…including Maddie’s suite, I can assure you, you will not like the consequences.” He bared his teeth in a wicked grin.
    Okay. Time to show him that he really didn’t intimidate her—or at least, time to pretend he didn’t. She plastered a bored look on her face. “I know plenty of men who like the color mauve.”
    Keith’s hips pressed into her stomach and Bertie started from the shock. Christ on a cracker. He was hard…again.
    “Do I need to prove to you that I’m not gay, Ms. Anderson?” he rumbled close to her ear, making her light-headed.
    “N-n-no. I’m good,” she said, as she pushed at the brick wall that made up his chest. Keith didn’t budge. His gaze lowered to her mouth and remained for several long moments. He shook his head as if breaking a spell and dropped his arms.
    “Another time, perhaps?” he abruptly turned to leave.
    Why not now? Oh, shut up. “I need your approval…where’re you going?” Bertie called to his disappearing back.
    “Bride hunting. Where else?”

Chapter 6
    Inside the coffee shop at the Barnes & Noble in Raleigh, Keith flipped through a book on the economic crisis of the twenty-first century. He’d read the first chapter at least two times, not because he didn’t understand the theories, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about Bertie. Her luscious body and her big eyes that flared whenever he got near her, or touched her—or almost kissed her. Fuck. He needed to stay away from her, not think of ways to be inside her. He had a job to do. He needed to find a wife. No. Correction: a suitable mother for Maddie who would also happen to be married to him. Someone plain, simple, and sweet. Someone who liked to clean, bake cookies, and watch Disney movies with his daughter. Someone calm who wore Keds tennis shoes and cardigan sweaters buttoned all the way up with a strand of pearls around her neck and a black velvet headband in her hair. Not someone who looked like she could salsa all night in spandex and stilettos. Flashes of his late wife, Adriana, laughing and swirling around with a mojito in her hand burned inside his head. Not that again. No fucking way.
    Tension tightened every muscle in his body. After all the domestic battles and accusations with Adriana that had spewed forth as though from a broken sewer pipe, he used to think of Maddie and calm down. Knocking up Adriana may have been a mistake, but making his baby was the best thing he ever did. Whenever he was home, he’d take the tiny bundle in his arms and rock her to sleep, holding her well into the night. Calmness would flow through him and fill in all the gaping wounds. If he was on the road, he’d pull out Maddie’s pink, stuffed lamb named