Boom - Sabrina Stark Page 0,56

arms were glistening with perspiration. The muscles in his arms were gloriously defined, not just by the sheen of his skin, but also by the lingering after-effects of whatever he'd been doing.

He was majorly pumped.

And so was I – but in a totally different way.

As I watched, he lifted the hem of his T-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his face.

The movement shouldn't have been sexy. I mean, who liked sweat, right? And yet, I couldn’t help but notice how his abs glistened, and how the tendrils of his damp hair curled on the very ends.

He looked so "donkable" that I felt myself swallow.

When he finished, I gave him an annoyed look. "What were you doing, anyway?"

"When?"

"Before you walked in," I said. "Like why are you all…" I made a vague fluttering motion with my hands. "…hot and stuff."

And just like that, my cheeks were flaming.

I cleared my throat. "And just so you know, I said hot and stuff. Not 'hot stuff.' That's totally different."

His lips twitched at the corners. "So you think I’m hot stuff, huh?"

Damn it. He was goading me again. "That's not what I said, as I just explained. And you never answered the question. What were you doing?"

"Working. What else?"

"Doing what?"

"I was ripping out some plaster."

Speaking of ripped, I could totally envision it, except in my visions, his shirt wasn't just damp. It was gone entirely, leaving him naked from the waist up. In my mind's eye, his muscles bulged, and his body glistened as he went to work on the house, hammering at something or other. I didn't even know what. I just knew he looked very good doing it.

As the image lingered in my brain, my tongue brushed my upper lip. Oh, boy. The vision was very thought-provoking.

Double damn it.

I shook my head and tried to focus on something that didn't involve my nemesis half-naked. "But wait," I said. "Does that mean you started working on the house already?"

"Some."

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "But doesn't that ruin the 'before' footage?"

Broody shook his head. "They finished it today. Remember?"

"Oh." He was right. That was, after all, part of the reason they'd taken me through the house and filmed my reaction to the damage. It was to showcase how terrible the house looked now, before its upcoming restoration.

Still, there was something I didn't understand. "But don't you have crews to do the plaster ripping and stuff?"

"Sure," he said. "But I wanted to see what was under there."

"Under where?"

His eyes filled with amusement, although for the life of me I couldn't imagine why.

I asked, "What's so funny?"

"You said underwear."

I stared up at him as the urge to snicker warred with my better sensibilities. In the end, I decided to stick with the facts. "No. I said under and where – two different words."

He gave a slow nod. "Oh. Like hot stuff."

My gaze drifted to his pecs. Oh boy. He was hot, alright, as he damn well knew.

With renewed horror, I jerked my gaze upward. "No. Like hot and stuff, as I already explained." As I said it, I snuck a teeny glance at his mid-section. "And you're just trying to distract me."

"From what?"

Well, not from your amazing abs, that's for sure.

Oh, for God's sake.

Stiffly, I replied, "From that peep hole, that's what."

"If you want an apology," he said, "forget it."

I made a sound of protest. "But that was so intrusive!"

"No kidding," he said. "But hey, you can apologize any time."

"For what?"

"For breaking into my house."

"For the last time," I gritted out, "I didn't break in. I had a key."

"Not anymore," he said.

"What?"

"They're changing the locks tonight."

Crap. "Why tonight?"

"Because the real work starts tomorrow. So if I were you, I'd be ready."

Ready for what, I didn't know. And I never had the chance to ask, because just then, Waverly walked in through the side door and stopped short at the sight of Brody standing in the kitchen.

Her lips parted, and her eyes smoldered. She eyed him up and down like he was good enough to eat.

For some stupid reason, I didn't like it. Without thinking, I blurted out, "So, who wants dinner?"

Dinner? I hadn't been thinking of dinner. But hey, it was dinner time. And besides, if I flung Waverly a biscuit or something, maybe she wouldn’t start munching on Brody's ass, because she totally looked like she wanted to.

Waverly smiled like I'd just suggested a Brody butt-munching marathon. "That sounds like an excellent idea," she said, looking to Brody. "Dinner for two?