She bit her lip, but it couldn’t hide that she was laughing at him. And she should. He was pathetic!

“Well . . . thank you. I do try.”

Desperate to stop looking like the biggest loser this side of the Mississippi, Eggie stood and grabbed his empty plate and milk glass. “Guess I’ll get this cleaned up.”

She stood as well. “We’ll do it together.”

“You don’t have to. You did cook.”

“It’ll get done faster if we work together.”

“Okay.” Eggie piled up a few more plates and lifted them.

“Think we can sleep together again tonight?”

Eggie, who could take out a target nearly a mile away with a good scope and in a high wind, nearly dropped the plates, barely catching them in time.

He put the pile back on the table and turned. And damn the woman, she was right behind him.

“Something wrong?” she asked, having the nerve to look innocent and sweet.

“This ain’t fair, Darla Mae.”

“What isn’t?”

“You,” he accused, forcing his gaze to look at anything but her, “smelling nice and looking so damn pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Everyone thinks you’re pretty.”

“Not really.”

“I just can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

He took a step away from her, ended up banging his butt into the dining table. “This. With you. Ain’t right.”

“Why?” She moved in closer. “Because of my sisters? Because they said horrible things to you?”

“No, of course not.” Besides. He was used to her sisters.

“Because they make me look like an idiot?” she asked flatly.

“No and they don’t.” He swallowed. “It’s just you’re . . . you’re . . .”

“What? I’m what?”

“You know,” he shrugged. “Untouched by a man.”

“I wouldn’t say all that,” she muttered.

Eggie frowned. “Pardon?”

“What I mean is, I’m not some innocent, Eggie. I’ve just been waiting for the right . . .” She grinned, nearly killing him. “The right wolf to come along.”

“Well that’s not me,” he told her plain.

Darla didn’t understand this man. Did he want her or not? He seemed to want her one second but then seemed ready to bolt the very next.

“May I ask why you’re not the right wolf?”

Still not looking her in the eyes, which seemed strange since he seemed to use that stare to his benefit most of the time, Eggie said, “Because for your first time, you deserve. . . better.”

“Better than what?”

“Better than a man known for his ability to kill.”

“But isn’t that whatyou’re good at?”

He finally looked her in the eye. “Ow.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she quickly added. “We all have to be good at something.”

He picked up the plates he’d just put down on the table. “I’m going to do the dishes.”

And Darla watched Eggie Smith walk away. Tight butt moving in those jeans. She knew what her momma would say. That he’d come back when he was good and ready and a proper Southern girl would wait.

Yep. She should wait because that’s what nice Southern gals do. They wait.

Eggie had just made it into his kitchen when he was attacked from behind. Well, maybe “attacked” was too strong a word. But whatever the right word, he did have a She-wolf attached to his back at the moment.

Felt kinda nice, too.

“Darla, what are you doing?”

“Well, I know my momma would say nice Southern girls wait for the man to make the appropriate moves, but then I remembered I’m a Lewis and all that went out the window. I mean of five sisters, why am I the only one trying to be the nice one?”

“You’re the nice one?”

“Why am I the only one not going for what I want?”

Eggie laughed.

“What’s so funny . . . wait. That was a laugh, wasn’t it? I’m still trying to learn your different grunts.”

“It was a laugh because you actually believe you don’t go for what you want.”

“I don’t.”

“Says the girl strapped to my back.”

“You were walking away. I had to do something.”

Eggie walked to the sink, Darla still holding onto him. “You sure you just don’t want to get even with your sister?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Come on, Darla. In terms of gettin’ even with your sister, bedding down with me would be the easiest way. Janie Mae hates me. But we can tell her whatever you want while you keep on waitin’ for that perfect wolf who isn’t good at killin’.”

Lord, this man was not going to be easy. Then again, her daddy always said nothing worth having was ever easy to get . . . or something to that effect.

Darla slipped off Eggie’s back and stood at his side. “Put the dishes in the sink,” she ordered and, Marine that he was, he obeyed immediately.

Once the few bits of dishware were safe, Darla tugged on his arm until Eggie faced her. She didn’t bother trying to haul him around. She sensed the wolf moved only when he dang well felt like it. Thankfully he felt like it.

He faced her but the man was six-four. He might as well be a darn mountain. Glancing around, Darla turned and, using a little trick only She-wolves seemed to have, she hopped up and back, her butt landing on the sink counter. She still wasn’t quite at eye level but definitely close enough.