Although, truthfully, she wasn’t sure what was making her sweatier: the weather, or the thought of asking Will Thatcher for help.
But Brynn was nothing if not practical. AAA wasn’t nearby, and she knew firsthand that Will was just a few hideous steps away. She’d seen him preening in front of his kitchen window that looked directly into hers.
She avoided looking in the direction of his house as often as possible, but the occasional glance had been inevitable. Best as she could tell, Will Thatcher did not seem to own a shirt. He probably enjoyed the reflection of his own pecs too much.
Brynn started marching toward his front door. If he wanted to torture her by living next door, she’d just let him see exactly what it meant to be neighborly.
She should have been prepared for it when she opened the door, but she still gaped. “For God’s sake, Will, put some clothes on. You’re going to scare the neighbor kids.”
Will stretched and leaned against the door. “Yeah, but their moms will be happy.”
“Gross,” she muttered, scooting past him into the air-conditioned home, being careful not to brush against his impeccably carved chest.
He made a valid point, though. The soccer moms would be drooling if they could see him. The man was wearing only black boxers, and the rest of him was nothing but golden skin and defined muscles.
“Why are you all shiny?” she asked with a sneer as she gingerly scraped a nail down his bicep. “You look like you just got done with a wrestling playdate with Hercules and Achilles.”
“Is that your way of saying I look like a Greek god?” he asked as his fingers locked on her finger. She jerked her hand back. She hadn’t meant to touch him.
“That’s my way of saying you need a shower,” she snapped. “And would you quit with the flexing? You look like you’re having seizures.”
“Can I help you with something or did you interrupt my workout just to come ogle me?”
Right. Keep your eye on the prize. And not that prize. Do it for the mayor’s daughter.
Brynn tried to let her eyes go soft while maintaining her smile. It wasn’t easy when she had the irrepressible urge to strike at him. Or maybe pull him closer. Or maybe…
“Brynn?”
“I need help,” she blurted out.
His cocky grin abolished all traces of the sexual awareness she’d been feeling a second earlier. Or mostly abolished them, anyway. If only he’d put a shirt on…
“I have a flat tire,” she said, trying to keep her voice helpless and innocent. “And I called for help, but it’ll be a while, and I have an important appointment at work, and I know you hate me, but if you could just be a decent human for like thirty seconds out of your entire year—”
“Sure,” he said, interrupting her plea-slash-demand. “I can help.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised by the lack of a fight. “Thanks…You know about cars, right?”
“Seems to me all women assume that men being born with a cock somehow correlates to auto-mechanic expertise, but in my case, you’d be correct.”
She gave him a bland look. “Were you just looking for a reason to say ‘cock’ just now?”
He grinned. “Maybe. Probably. Let me put pants on and I’ll come take a look.”
“Don’t forget a shirt!” she called after him. “I wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed when all of the neighborhood dads see your beer belly!”
She let herself out the front door and headed back to her own driveway, where she called her partner to let her know she’d be late, but that she wouldn’t miss the Blanton appointment.
At least she hoped she wouldn’t. If Will could use his hands on her car like he had on her body…
Firm palms bracketing her waist, pinning her to the mattress as his head dipped lower, licking and loving…
“Ah!” Brynn rapped her knuckles against her head in a futile effort to erase the mental images from her mind. It had only taken her an entire year to forget how good it had been between them. Taken her two more years to remember all of the reasons why they should never ever do it again.
She was not a savage.
She was a lady.