Yes, she definitely wanted to kiss Luke. She’d been doing her level best not to think of the steamy one they’d shared and how good she’d felt in his arms. How good he’d felt half-naked rubbing against her on their hike. But she no sooner got warm and gooey thinking of those moments than the picture of him toppling to her rug while she’d stood there naked and mortified hijacked hermemory.
If Luke wanted to get her naked again, he’d better memorize that damned book of his, because it was going to take every technique known to man to get her out of herclothes.
She stood in the lobby, clutching his notes for her class. She stared up at the high ceiling of the foyer as though inspiration might be found in the Art Deco light fixture, but inspiration wasn’t hanging from theceiling.
AFTER SLEEPINGlike the dead Monday night, Luke woke midmorning to the knowledge that he was screwed. And not in a good way. Far from masquerading as a Total Moron, he’dbecomeone in front of a woman he wanted more than he’d ever wantedanyone.
Playing shamelessly on her request that he speak to her class, he’d gone out of his way to add some pizzazz to his guest appearance at her high school by browbeating and begging his editor into letting him bring a school tour through. The price for the favor was taking an assignment to write a feature about a breast-feedingclub.
He’d thought the editor was joking, but the photos were already done, the feature slotted for the weekend edition and thepregnant, femalewriter who’d originally been assigned the piece had gone into labor prematurely and was currently in hospital. With anewborn.
Excuses.But he’d said yes so the editor would allow Shari’s kids to submit something—anything—to thepaper.
Still, the price had been a hefty one. An article about breasts now, and he was your man. But breast-feeding? He felt a little squirrelly at the thought of being trapped in a room with a bunch of postpartum women. He’d heardstories.
What if they’d all had terrible labors and turned on him as a representative of all males who make females suffer? They could tear him to bits. There ought to be danger pay attached to theassignment.
He’d tried to get a phone interview, but the editor wasn’t having any of it. Luke had to show up at this breast-feeding meeting next Wednesday night, then write his featureThursday.
The only strategy he could imagine to get him through it was to imagine it was Shari’s breasts they were talking about and him doing thesucking.
When he heard the knock on his door, he knew it had been worth it to promise to write about lactating women. The lure of a newspaper tour and possible article may not have drawn Shari irresistibly to him, but at least she hadn’t canceled their deal as he’d feared. He’d have preferred that it was his manly magnificence that had her banging on the door, except there was nothing manly or magnificent about his recent behavior. Maybe he could write a sequel to his book—Normal Guy to Total Moron in Two Weeks orLess.
He opened his door. As he’d suspected, Shari stood there. She hadn’t even stopped at her own apartment after work. Her schoolbag was still in her arms, along with her mail and his ideas for herclass.
“Hey,” shesaid.
“Hey, yourself.” He opened the door wider and she hesitated beforeentering.
“It’s okay,” he assured her with weak humor, “I ate breakfast andlunch.”
“Oh.”She brushed at the air with his printout, laughing in a breathless spurt. “Don’t be silly. I only came to thank you forthis.”
“Do you think it’s the rightapproach?”
She beamed at him, and he wondered why none of his high school teachers had ever looked so good. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. I’ve tried every year to get the newspaper to give us a tour. How did you pull itoff?”
He shrugged, trying not to think of the ordeal ahead of him next Wednesday night. “The editor owed me afavor.”
She gazed at him quizzically. “Now I guess I owe youone.”
“No.” He took a step toward her, wanting to touch, knowing he couldn’t. “No. I…you were great last night. You fed me dinner, listened to me ramble on about my novel.” Unable to stop himself, he reached out and touched a lock of her hair where it curled like a question mark against her shoulder. “I had a goodtime.”
She looked like she was fighting a smile. “Me,too.”
He felt something crackle between them and he’d bet anything she was reliving their kiss just as hewas.
After a stunned second of staring at him, she blinked a couple of times. “Well, I shouldbe—”
“Did you work out today?” he interrupted, knowing he didn’t want their contact to be sobrief.
“I’m up to seventy-eight sit-ups in the morning and twenty push-ups.”
“Pretty good. Speaking as your personal trainer, I’d say you need to come for a run and then I’ll reward you withpizza.”
“I haterunning.”
He shrugged. “It’s yourwedding.”
