Read Online That McCloud Woman by Peggy Moreland - Free Book Online Page A

that?"
    She
stopped her mopping and shot him a frown over her shoulder. "Past
experience." She snapped her head back around and continued cleaning.
    His
mind churning with a thousand questions, Jack watched her, but soon found his
thoughts drifting to her backside and how with her kneeling and stretched out
so far, wiping up the mess she'd made, her bottom stuck way up in the air. Heart-shaped,
each cheek about the size of the spread of his hand, her bottom swayed from
side to side in rhythm with the movements of her hand.
    Jack
slowly shook his head, remembering the way she'd responded to him the night
before, and wondered where she'd gotten such a crazy notion. Not any good at
sex? Somebody had done a number on this woman, he decided. There was no other
explanation. He'd be willing to bet his truck that she was not only good in bed, but she was great. A woman with as much heart and compassion as Alayna would
have to be. "Well, you sure as hell had me fooled."
    She
sniffed indignantly. "I'm not a tease, if that's what you're
thinking."
    "I
wasn't thinking that at all." He shifted his weight from the balls of his
feet to plant one foot solidly on the floor. He braced a forearm along his
thigh. "In fact, I was thinking just the opposite."
    Opposite? Alayna slowly
straightened, sinking back on her heels. She turned to look at him, her
curiosity getting the better of her. "And what would the opposite
be?"
    His
eyes lit with a devilish grin. "That you are one hot babe."
    Alayna's
mouth dropped open. "One hot babe," she repeated, her eyes wide with
disbelief.
    He
slapped a palm against his thigh and pushed himself to his feet. "Yep. One
hot babe."
    Alayna
stared up at him for a full three seconds, her heart racing, her hopes soaring.
One hot babe? Could it be true? All those years she'd thought— No, she told
herself. Jack was wrong. She knew her sexual abilities better than he did. He'd
had—what? All of five minutes on which to base his assessment? She'd had years.
Frustrating and heartbreaking years to discover her inadequacies, to have them
thrown in her face.
    She
snorted. One hot babe. "Yeah, right," she muttered. She slapped
the wad of soggy paper towels into the bowl and stood, chuckling at the
ridiculousness of his suggestion as she crossed to the sink. "What would
you like for breakfast?"
    Though
Jack was tempted to push the subject of her sexual prowess, he decided it might
be best—for both their sakes—to just let it drop. He didn't want to get
involved with her, and she certainly didn't need the complication of getting
involved with a man like him. "Those scrambled eggs you were whipping up
on the floor looked pretty good to me."
    Alayna
spun. "Oh, but I can't serve you food that's been—" Then she saw the
glint in his eyes, and realized he was teasing her. The tension slowly eased
from her shoulders, and she laughed, relieved to know there would be no
lingering awkwardness from the previous night's fiasco … and equally delighted
to discover that he had a sense of humor buried beneath that gruff exterior.
    "Scrambled
eggs, it is," she agreed with a decisive nod. She shot him a wink,
smiling. "Though I think I'll start with fresh ingredients."
    Dust
motes danced in the shaft of sunlight coming through the attic window, stirred
by Alayna's steps. She stopped beside an old harvest table and pulled back a
corner of the drop cloth that covered it, smoothing a hand over the stained
wood she'd exposed. She smiled wistfully, remembering meals shared with her
family gathered around the table. She didn't know the table's age, but
suspected it was well over sixty years old. Maybe even older. She vaguely
remembered her father mentioning that the table had once belonged to his
grandmother.
    She
didn't know when the table had been relegated to the attic, but suspected that
her mother had ordered it stored there when she had redecorated the house over
twenty years ago. Alayna bit back a smile, thinking of her mother.