Night Maneuvers - By Jillian Burns Page 0,18
rotation for at least three weeks. With his day schedule, he’d never see her. Maybe that was a good thing.
He glanced at his watch, shoved his tray away and stood. “Got a class.” He nodded at Grady and turned to go.
“McCabe!” Hughes called after him, and he glanced back.
“Don’t forget. My place. This weekend.”
Her place? He blinked as an image of them rolling across her bed shortened his breath. Had she changed her mind about—
“I’ll bring my extra rollers and trays,” Grady said.
Oh yeah. Her new house. They’d promised to come help paint. “I’ll be there.” He shook his head. “Jeez, Hughes, you wear a dress once and turn into a nag.”
He’d taken three steps when an apple thunked him on the back of the head.
Damn, that felt good.
ALEX’S HANDS SHOOK as she reached for her sandwich again. She could feel Grady’s stare on her as she took a bite.
“Just a prank?” he said quietly.
“Good one, huh?” she answered around the food tucked in her cheek.
She took another bite of her sandwich as he continued to watch her with the intensity of a raptor closing in on its prey.
“What?” She slammed her sandwich down. “You gotta admit he deserved it, after the hundreds of women he’s left in his wake.”
Grady merely raised one brow.
“You don’t seriously think I have the hots for Mi— McCabe?”
His eyes widened. “Never thought of that.”
Great. Now she’d planted the idea in his head.
“We’re friends. That’s all.”
He picked up his soup spoon. “Whatever you say.”
Alex shot to her feet. “Come on, Grady. You know me.”
Seemingly unaffected by her fuming, he shrugged and ate his soup.
She unclenched her fists and took a deep breath. She protested too much. And Grady knew it.
As long as no one else did.
6
SITUATION REPORT—DAY TEN: under control.
Tuesday afternoon around five, Mitch found himself in Hughes’s office, leaning against the doorjamb as she finished filling out forms.
After shoving a stack of papers in her out-box, she glanced up. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks, I’m trying something new.”
She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Celibate less than two weeks and it’s already giving you bloodshot eyes and dark circles.”
Yeah, that must be what was bugging him. He hadn’t slept well—or much at all—the past couple of nights. He’d twisted in his sheets, confused and…unsettled. But he’d rot first before admitting that. He grinned, pushed off the doorjamb and came into her office. “Think how the ladies will love to soothe my fevered brow.”
Shaking her head, she suppressed a smile. “You’re hopeless.” Getting to her feet, she grabbed her jacket and briefcase and took a step toward the door.
“Thought we’d grab a couple of beers.”
She stopped in her tracks and stared up at him, her expression inscrutable. “Uh, I can’t. The Mustang. Needs new brake pads.”
“Great. You provide the Shiner Bock and I’ll bring the pizza.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, spun on his heel and sauntered out the door.
AN HOUR LATER Alex heard Mitch’s Jeep pull up and squashed the urge to run into her house and change clothes or wash off the grease. This was McCabe. He’d seen her greasy before. Once he’d even held her head while she puked up her guts. What was the big deal?
But the truth was, greasy or not, she didn’t want to be around him right now. Curse her slow brain this afternoon. Any excuse would’ve been better than working on her Mustang. They always helped each other with car repairs.
Mitch’s boots appeared at the edge of her vision. “You started without me?” The aroma of pepperoni and melted mozzarella drifted to her nostrils.
Alex rolled out from underneath her ’Stang and took his waiting hand to pull her to her feet. But Mitch didn’t let go. His gaze lowered to her chest and remained there.
She looked down. What? She was wearing the same thing she always wore when they worked on their cars. Ratty jeans and an old T-shirt that had once been her brother’s. And no bra.
This had never been a problem around Mitch before. But between the cool fall air and Mitch’s gaze on them, her nipples had tightened to the point of pain. Act normal, Hughes. But her breathing was erratic and her heart was pumping hard.
Mitch’s Adam’s apple fell and rose as he swallowed, and then he licked his lips. He finally met her eyes, and she could read the hunger mixed with confusion in his. Briefly, she considered kissing him again. But if she did, she might not stop this