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Authors: Claire Robyns
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teenager. He didn’t want another one-night-stand that
ended in disaster. For what he had in mind, he’d need a couple of
weeks of long summer afternoons and even longer summer nights. “You
need to eat.”
“Only dinner?”
A frown pulled her brows and tugged at the edges of her mouth. “It
smells like a truce to me.”
Amusement
quirked his mood. “Would that be a rosy scent or skunk?”
“Things have
been a bit crazy between us lately.” Laughter fed into the creases
of her frown. “Okay, dinner, but not tonight. I’ve already got
plans.”
Any plans that
involved Kate, Finn or Isobel was always an open invitation along
the sentiment of, ‘the more, the merrier.’ He waited another
heartbeat, but there was no offer forthcoming. His amusement dried
up. “Intimate plans?”
She rolled her
eyes. “None-of-your-business plans.”
He took a deep
breath to push down the wave of anger he had no claim to. “I
disagree. After the way you came on to me last night—”
“After the way
you turned me down flat last night,” she cut in, her voice cool and
even, “why don’t we just agree to disagree?”
“A lot went on
before I turned you down and none of it was flat.”
“You know what
I mean.”
His jaw
clenched. They’d gone from lazy summer nights of endless pleasure
to Megan dating another man in zero seconds. How the blazes had
that happened? He rubbed his jaw. Pushed a hand through his hair.
“Do I look like a man who knows what you mean?”
Green flashed
in her eyes as she wrenched her body away from the car. She threw
her hands up, then shook her head on a long-suffering sigh.
“You know
what? You—me—” She brought her hands down to her side and stalked
off in a huff. Halfway to the kitchen door, she spun back around,
pointing a finger in his direction. “You look like a man who
doesn’t know what he wants, Jack. That’s what.”
His gaze raked
over her, starting at that plush lower lip, over the Lycra imprint
of her breasts and down onto the best set of legs in the South West
Peninsula.
“Oh, I know
what I want.” He didn’t hold back the hunger and need that
thickened his blood and heated his gaze. She’d have to be a blind
stone to miss the desire pulsing off him. She could go on that
date, but she’d do so with her eyes wide open on what was waiting
at home. “I’m just considerate enough to think twice before I take
it.”
“And I’m
not?”
“I never said
that.”
Fists curled
at her side. “You didn’t have to.”
There were a
good couple of yards between them, but he took a further step back
and put a hand out. What had her so riled up now? He’d never
accused her of taking— Wait, had she been serious?
“Does this
have to do with what you said last night? Of me being afraid you’d
wake up sober and want more than I was willing to give?” She hadn’t
just been venting, then. She’d actually thought that. And not just
last night, he realised. “Megan, that was never it. You deserved
more than I was able to offer. There’s a difference.”
She managed to
take offence to that as well. “How about we pretend I’m a fully
functioning adult and capable of making those decisions for
myself?”
He winced at
the stinging delivery, then again as she stomped inside and slammed
the kitchen door hard enough to rattle the eaves. She made a fair
point, though. He’d already had the same argument with himself and
lost.
She was
entitled to enjoy a fling. She didn’t need lowered inhibitions to
enjoy sex for the sheer hell of it. She wanted to burn through the
passion.
He was fully
onboard with any and all of those decisions and he intended to make
sure she knew that before she went on her lousy date. He started
forward.
The kitchen
blinds drew up and the window flew open. Megan stuck her head out,
cheeks mottled red and eyes blazing. “I’m about to make myself a
percolated coffee. Do I need to ask permission, Jack, or is that
just for wine and
ended in disaster. For what he had in mind, he’d need a couple of
weeks of long summer afternoons and even longer summer nights. “You
need to eat.”
“Only dinner?”
A frown pulled her brows and tugged at the edges of her mouth. “It
smells like a truce to me.”
Amusement
quirked his mood. “Would that be a rosy scent or skunk?”
“Things have
been a bit crazy between us lately.” Laughter fed into the creases
of her frown. “Okay, dinner, but not tonight. I’ve already got
plans.”
Any plans that
involved Kate, Finn or Isobel was always an open invitation along
the sentiment of, ‘the more, the merrier.’ He waited another
heartbeat, but there was no offer forthcoming. His amusement dried
up. “Intimate plans?”
She rolled her
eyes. “None-of-your-business plans.”
He took a deep
breath to push down the wave of anger he had no claim to. “I
disagree. After the way you came on to me last night—”
“After the way
you turned me down flat last night,” she cut in, her voice cool and
even, “why don’t we just agree to disagree?”
“A lot went on
before I turned you down and none of it was flat.”
“You know what
I mean.”
His jaw
clenched. They’d gone from lazy summer nights of endless pleasure
to Megan dating another man in zero seconds. How the blazes had
that happened? He rubbed his jaw. Pushed a hand through his hair.
“Do I look like a man who knows what you mean?”
Green flashed
in her eyes as she wrenched her body away from the car. She threw
her hands up, then shook her head on a long-suffering sigh.
“You know
what? You—me—” She brought her hands down to her side and stalked
off in a huff. Halfway to the kitchen door, she spun back around,
pointing a finger in his direction. “You look like a man who
doesn’t know what he wants, Jack. That’s what.”
His gaze raked
over her, starting at that plush lower lip, over the Lycra imprint
of her breasts and down onto the best set of legs in the South West
Peninsula.
“Oh, I know
what I want.” He didn’t hold back the hunger and need that
thickened his blood and heated his gaze. She’d have to be a blind
stone to miss the desire pulsing off him. She could go on that
date, but she’d do so with her eyes wide open on what was waiting
at home. “I’m just considerate enough to think twice before I take
it.”
“And I’m
not?”
“I never said
that.”
Fists curled
at her side. “You didn’t have to.”
There were a
good couple of yards between them, but he took a further step back
and put a hand out. What had her so riled up now? He’d never
accused her of taking— Wait, had she been serious?
“Does this
have to do with what you said last night? Of me being afraid you’d
wake up sober and want more than I was willing to give?” She hadn’t
just been venting, then. She’d actually thought that. And not just
last night, he realised. “Megan, that was never it. You deserved
more than I was able to offer. There’s a difference.”
She managed to
take offence to that as well. “How about we pretend I’m a fully
functioning adult and capable of making those decisions for
myself?”
He winced at
the stinging delivery, then again as she stomped inside and slammed
the kitchen door hard enough to rattle the eaves. She made a fair
point, though. He’d already had the same argument with himself and
lost.
She was
entitled to enjoy a fling. She didn’t need lowered inhibitions to
enjoy sex for the sheer hell of it. She wanted to burn through the
passion.
He was fully
onboard with any and all of those decisions and he intended to make
sure she knew that before she went on her lousy date. He started
forward.
The kitchen
blinds drew up and the window flew open. Megan stuck her head out,
cheeks mottled red and eyes blazing. “I’m about to make myself a
percolated coffee. Do I need to ask permission, Jack, or is that
just for wine and
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