Read Online When Bruce Met Cyn by Lori Foster - Free Book Online Page B

he’d decided to become a preacher, had he felt such volcanic sexual need. Back then, he’d have talked the girl into going to the gravel pit, or the drive-in—anyplace that ensured privacy where they could indulge their healthy desires. He’d been young and undisciplined then, like most testosterone-ridden youths.
    These days, his healthy desires were well under control. Or at least they were the day before.
    He started to edge past her. “I’ll head to the kitchen and get breakfast going.”
    She didn’t move out of his way. “Shouldn’t it be my turn to cook?”
    â€œDo you know how?”
    Amazingly enough, her face colored. It was the first time he’d seen her blush. “Not really. But I’m not stupid. I can read directions.”
    He was close enough to kiss her—scratch that. He managed a brotherly smile. “Next time, okay?”
    Her brows lifted the tiniest bit. “Next time?”
    He had to put some distance between them before he did something even dumber than coddling her. “Sure, you can pay me back. You’re not leaving Visitation anytime soon, right?”
    â€œI don’t plan to leave ever.”
    God help him. “There you go.” He stepped past her, and his chest brushed against the lush fullness of her breasts. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to look at her again. “Don’t linger too long, okay? I don’t want your pancakes to get cold.”
    As he trotted down the stairs, he felt as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Lust had no place in his life right now, but he had a feeling that as long as Cyn hung around, he’d be dealing with it.
    He had the table set and a platter of buttered pancakes ready when he felt her presence. He looked up, and his breath caught.
    Silly girl.
    Did she really think dowdier clothes could mask her appeal? She wore the sweater set, dark green and high-necked and a size too big, over loose-fitting khakis and slip-on shoes. Her long hair was still damp and had been woven into a thick braid. She wore no makeup and her eyes showed her uncertainty.
    Bruce straightened and crossed his arms, pretending to survey her when in fact his gaze had devoured her the second she appeared. “Very nice. Very professional. I expect you’ll get hired on the spot.”
    â€œRight. Don’t overdo it, okay?” Her words were teasing, but couldn’t hide her discomfort.
    It broke his heart and made him desperate to reassure her. “Definitely.”
    She held out the hem of the cardigan and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “It’s… blah enough?”
    A surprised laugh escaped him. Miss Cynthia Potter couldn’t be blah, even when so obviously trying. “No, not blah at all. I’d say…classy. Sedate.”
    â€œI don’t look like a tramp?”
    His breath caught. “No.” Anger at her, and at himself, rippled through him. “Why would you say something like that?”
    â€œBecause I usually do, no matter what I wear. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” She pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Dressing down isn’t what I’m used to. I had a hell of a time picking out these clothes.”
    They needed to explore her awful declaration, but Bruce couldn’t help but be grateful for the change of topic. “When did you shop?”
    â€œBefore hitching here. I had to toss out a bunch of my old clothes.” Her nose wrinkled. “I figured anything spandex, animal print, or fake leather had to go.”
    He sat opposite her, forked pancakes onto both their plates, and did what he knew he should do. He encouraged her to talk. “What kind of job are you hoping to get?”
    She picked at the edge of one pancake, her gaze averted. “I don’t care, as long as it’s a real job.” Her eyes lifted to lock with his. “A legitimate job.”
    Before Bruce even knew what he