and when he did….well, where would they all
go? Worst case scenario, Megan sold the ranch—he bought it with the money his
dad gave him from winning the bet—giving him the right to kick her out on her
ass as soon as this was all over. No, that actually sounded pretty damn good.
“Consider it taking one for the team. Unless …you’re
thinking she might not give in to your charm? Is that why you’re in such an
uproar? You’ve lost your confidence with this one? I assumed the apple doesn’t
fall too far from the tree, or does it?” For the first time ever, Jonathan
Mackenzie sounded worried.
Drew’s entire life he had waited for his father to say “I am
proud of you.” Couldn’t he be a normal father for once? Was that too much
to ask?
“Come on Son, make me proud.”
“You really do need to go see a shrink,” Drew muttered hitting the
end call button and chucking his cell halfway across the yard. Shit. His
relationship with his father had reached an all-time low.
*****
Megan watched the sexy man before her: the way the muscles in his
back rippled underneath his tight shirt as he worked. Her bottomed leaned
against one of his sawbucks. She strangely felt insecure and exposed without
her makeup. Her voice came out as small as a mouse, “You’re awfully good, you
know?”
Holding the pencil he used to mark measurements in-between his
teeth he pulled down on the handle of the chop saw. Her eyes blinked and ears
rang from the overwhelming high-pitched noise as the saw blade ripped through
another piece of wood. Sawdust spit out behind Robbie. He grabbed at his
pencil, pulled out his tape measurer, and made another mark. Repeated the process.
She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. This time she came close to
shouting, “I said… you’re good at remodeling! Did you go to school for it?”
He acknowledged her with a pleasant smile, and a wink.
Well, this was really quite boring. She drummed her fingers. What
was it going to take to show him she was ready to move things along in a more
satisfying direction? More satisfying for the both of them. She smoothed the
wrinkles of her Ghostbuster graphic T-shirt that had a scoop neck and hung off
one shoulder. Didn’t Emma own anything sexy? The cabby hadn’t answered any of
the hundreds of messages she’d left on his answering machine. She suspected he
never would.
Robbie came toward her, all sweaty and hot. He stopped, leaned,
his breath light as a feather on her cheek. “I just need…”
“Need?” she urged for more, “What do you need?”
His chest rubbed against her nipples as his hands snaked around
her, the tips of her breast hardening in response. Oh dear God! She inhaled
deep wanting to memorize the tantalizing smell of a sexy man.
“The lead in my pencil broke, sugar… I just need a new one,” he
said as his fingers fumbled for the one lolling behind her. The pencil
clattered over the lumber boards stacked on the saw bucks, but then he finally
got hold of it bringing it around in front of her face. He stuck the pencil
over his ear and remained where he was, with their bodies almost touching. An
edge of his mouth quirked up as his hands went to her waist. He took a step
forward, fitting his hard, sculpted body up against hers, his mouth hovering
over hers, breathing warmth on her parted lips. “What were you thinking? That
maybe I’d…” and then he kissed her. His lips felt dry and stiff moving over
hers. Robbie was a neat kisser, neat as in tidy: there was no nipping, no
slurping, no sucking… just his tongue “neatly” circling hers.
Boring and predictable.
She’d at least thought his strong hands would take possession of
her, but they kind of just laid there limp on her sides. Something wasn’t
working. Megan shifted, adjusted the position of her head thinking a different
angle might help. It was the pencil breaking her focus, wasn’t it? She kept
catching glimpses of