A Buckhorn Bachelor. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
and sincere.
Enjoying her, Adam loomed over her. “You expected something more intimate from me?”
Eyes twinkling, she whispered with a smile, “Silly me.”
How had he missed the length and thickness of her dark brown lashes, or the faint sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose, or how her mouth, always free of lipstick, looked so full and soft? “Maybe I should explain the path of my thoughts.”
“The path that led to sunscreen? Oh, I can’t wait to hear it.”
The ever-stirring breeze carried a baby soft tendril of fiery hair across her face. Without giving it enough thought, Adam used one fingertip to brush it back, tucking it behind her small ear.
Isabella’s gaze smoldered.
From such a simple touch? And if so, how would she be when he had her naked and touched her all over? He gave a low growl that she answered with fast blinking, as if coming out of a spell.
Breathless, she asked, “What was that?”
He knew what she meant, of course, but said only, “What?”
“That macho sound you made.” No hesitation from Isabella.
As if unsure, he suggested, “Reaction?”
Excited by the prospect, she came up to her elbow again. “You growled at me.”
“I growled at my unruly imagination.”
Her eyebrow lifted. She glanced at his mouth then back to his eyes, and breathed, “Tell me.”
Tell her that he’d visualized her naked, in bed—with him?
Not a great idea. Yet. Shoot, they’d only just started the whole flirting business.
Twirling one finger, Adam took the safer route. “Let’s rewind to my thoughts.”
She made a face. “You gonna ask me about my last dental appointment?”
Damn, but she confused him.
“You know, since staring down at me made you wonder about sunscreen?” She flapped a hand. “There’s no tellin’ what you’re thinkin’ now.”
He trailed a finger over her silky shoulder, across to her collarbone, then up to lift her stubborn chin so those pretty blue eyes focused on him. “I was thinking about this soft, pale skin of yours. How fair and delicate you are. That’s what made me worry about the sun.”
Dubious, she shifted her gaze to her own shoulder, rolled it, and said, “I don’t know about delicate, but I do burn easily. So yes to the sunscreen. And now...about that wicked imagination of yours?”
A shadow fell across them and Adam looked up to see his cousin, Amber, staring down at them. Hands on her hips, a frown on her face, she chastised him with nothing more than a look of extreme disappointment.
Knowing he was caught, Adam sat up, winced at the new tightness in his shorts, and dropped his elbows to his knees. “What’s up, Amber?”
“You’re causing a spectacle.”
Issy, too, sat up. “We are?”
“He is.”
“I’m with him.” She gave a slow smile. “And honestly, Amber, I sort of like the idea of bein’ a spectacle for once.”
ADAM PACED IN front of the grill where fresh corn on the cob filled the air with mouth-watering scents. People lined up twenty deep, waiting to buy an ear. His cousins Shohn and Garrett ran the grill, but in five minutes he’d take over for Shohn.
Where was Isabella?
He’d had to leave her alone with Amber, and God knew no good would come from that. He adored Amber, everyone did, but the girl did like to meddle. Big time. And she’d looked disapproving, so heaven only knew where her unwelcome meddling would lead this time.
Naturally he knew why she’d been disapproving. Amber had a favorite, very insulting narrative she used to describe his preference for variety.
“You skate through women like it’s a sport.”
How many times had she given him that complaint? Usually he laughed at her.
He didn’t feel like laughing this time.
Would she encourage Isabella to find a different guy? One more settled? A man who’d be better relationship material?
If Issy even wanted that.
Picking up a leftover guy at a town carnival didn’t sound like anything serious to him. But he’d never gotten the impression that Issy was the “fast and easy” type, either. Everything about her screamed “nice girl,” the type you brought home to meet your mom.
Adam knew his mom would love her.
He shouldn’t care about Issy’s plans, but he’d already worked himself up about it and—
Shohn shoved an apron at him. “Your turn.”
Drawn from his thoughts, Adam eyed the utilitarian apron and shoved it back at Shohn. “I’m ready.”
Shohn looked him over, caught his arm, and dragged him a few feet away to say, “I heard you were making out with Isabella Presley right in front of God and sundry.”
What the hell? “We weren’t making out.” He scoffed. “We were talking.”
“Horizontal talking? With you stroking her face?”
Snatching the apron back, Adam tied it on just to give himself something to do other than look guilty. “Horizontal, yes.” As Shohn’s eyes widened, Adam clarified, “On a picnic quilt, resting in the shade. But I wasn’t stroking her.” He’d wanted to. All over. With hands and lips...
But he’d managed to refrain that much.
“We were talking, period.” About getting laid.
Or maybe it was laying each other.
Issy had put him into such a blind tailspin, he couldn’t even remember everything he’d said.
“All right, don’t blow a gasket. I just wondered.” Shohn smiled at an elderly couple who strolled past, then laughed at two grade school boys who flew by with blue cotton candy faces and excitement in their eyes. “If I hadn’t heard about her shaking off the old-maid mantle, I might not have thought anything of it. But word has it that Isabella is looking to take a turn on the wild side.”
Adam stared at him, horrified, suspicious, and damn it, a little jealous. “What are you talking about?”
“Rumors, that’s all.” Shohn whacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t give it another thought.”
Like he’d be able to think about anything else now? “Where’d you hear these so-called rumors?”
“From Amber.”
Well, that explained nothing. Everyone knew Amber had very odd ideas about things—and often saw what others didn’t.
His thoughts churning, Adam watched Shohn walk away.
“Hey, a little help here?”
He turned to see Garrett overwhelmed with a hungry horde looking for corn. “Right, sorry.” With the apron in place, he stepped in and for the next half hour they served over a hundred ears of corn. Finally, once the band started playing from the stage at the other end of the lot, the crowd headed in a new direction.
“Wow.” After dousing his face in icy water from the cooler, Garrett used a hand towel to dry off. “Between the heat of the grill and that broiling sun, I’m feeling as roasted as the corn.”
“Yeah.”