Read Attitude for Free Online Page B

told him he wasn't interested in selling, Ian kept harping on it. Trouble was, there was too much of Ian's money in the business and not enough of Cal's. And if Ian really wanted out, there wasn't much Cal could do about it. It bugged the hell out of him.
    He pushed the worry aside. He'd deal with Ian if and when he had to. Tonight he wanted to deal with Ginger.
    Where her house sat, the road ended in a dark patch of fir and tall hemlock. Moonlight exposed a sprawling old cedar-shaked house. A black carriage lamp dangled precariously on a tilted fence to cast a yellow light on the driveway entrance.
    Even though it looked as if every light in the house was on, it was well after nine o'clock. Cal knew there was a good chance she'd slam the door in his face, but even that would be fun.
    He stepped out of his Cherokee into the chill of a September wind coming in off the ocean. He shuddered; after months in the Pacific Northwest, he still wasn't acclimated to the cold night air.
    He looked for a bell or button but didn't find either, so he knocked.
    The door opened, abruptly and wide, and Ginger stood in a fall of light, her face pale under a mass of loose, disheveled honey-red hair that rested on bare shoulders. She wore black sweatpants so big Cal figured she picked them up at a heavyweight boxer's garage sale, and a white cotton muscle shirt so small it must have come from a Barbie dress-up kit. The skimpy shirt showed off straight shoulders and long elegant arms leanly muscled.
    Whoa... Cameron did have a body. And more.
    She had breasts.
    Cal's jaw didn't drop but his gaze sure as hell did—well below the line a sexually correct modern male's should.
    Beautiful breasts. Firm and peach size. And a waist he could span with his hands. Hell, this was more than he bargained for—as was the stirring behind his zipper.
    She looked shell-shocked. "Beaumann?" She immediately reached behind the door, came up with a ratty old navy cardigan from the same garage sale she'd found the mega sweatpants. In seconds the breasts and tiny waist were enveloped in sagging wool. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
    For a second he couldn't remember; his mind was still processing measurements. "I thought I'd come by and see how you were making out."
    She attacked the cardigan buttons with shaking hands. "It's late."
    "I know."
    "You should have called."
    "You're right."
    "Being agreeable doesn't make it okay," she said and fumbled with another button.
    "So do I stand here until it is okay, or are you going to invite me in?"
    She closed the last button, tugged the sweater down around her hips, and stepped back. "Come in, then—but next time call."
    He raised his left hand, crossed his fingers. "I promise."
    A smile lifted her lips, and he was surprised when she let it stay. Cameron wasn't much into smiles. "You're a real piece of work. Do you know that?" she said.
    "And I'd say, speaking as a man who's just had a glimpse of paradise," he toyed with her top sweater button, "you're a pretty special piece yourself."
    She slapped his hand away. "Do not lech after me, Beaumann. For your information, I have legs like tree trunks and an ass the size of Wyoming."
    "I don't think so. From that much too brief preview, I'd guess everything is in just the right proportions."
    "Previews, as you should know—being in the movie business and all—do not tell the whole story."
    "True. But they sure as hell pique the curiosity."
    She rolled her eyes. "Men. One boob sighting and they're set to ready."
    "One?" He cocked a brow. "I could swear I saw two." He moved toward her. "Maybe I should do a recount."
    "A Neanderthal to his bones. Lucky me." She backed away from him.
    He grinned, watched her guard go up. He decided to switch gears before she booted him out. "Come up with any ideas for the website, yet?"
    "Let's go to my office," she said, and this time the look she gave Cal bordered on triumphant. "You're in for a surprise." She started down a hall. "Follow