Dealing with Annie Read online

“No kidding,” Thomas said. “You’d lose. Look, you’re a workaholic to the point of not having a life. Now there’s a beautiful woman right across the road, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. You nearly broke your neck earlier watching her. So why don’t you try real hard and see if you can come up with something to do with her rather than work. Hand over your gun.”

  Ian swore, then reached for the gun he’d had stashed in a shoulder harness beneath his shirt. He slapped it into his brother’s hand.

  Thomas set it on the table and put his hand back out.

  “What now?” Ian ground out.

  “Your knife.”

  With an eye roll, Ian bent—and swore again, as that hurt like hell—pulling the knife from his boot. “Happy, Mom?”

  “No, since I know you’re still holding back.” He wiggled his fingers. “Don’t make me strip-search you.”

  Ian stared at him, then pulled another knife out of his other boot and slammed it into the waiting hand. “Give me a week and I swear, I’m going to kick your ass for this.”

  “It’s a date. Now, go smile and make merry with Annie.” Thomas tossed Ian his truck keys. “Think you can drive?”

  “Hell yes, because no way are you chaperoning.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  IAN MANEUVERED HIMSELF carefully down the front steps. At the bottom, he stopped abruptly, eyeing the obstacle standing between him and the truck.

  Augustine.

  He bared his teeth at her.

  She returned the favor, and added that unmistakable I’m-a-pissed-pig noise.

  “Not again,” he muttered.

  She took a step toward him, snout quivering.

  “Look,” he said in a voice that had set the most hardened criminals to whimpering. “Here’s how this is going down. I’m getting into that truck. And you’re not going to stop me.”

  Augustine’s eyes narrowed.

  He wondered how sharp a pig’s teeth were. “Stay,” he told her, pointing at her as he moved toward the truck.

  “I don’t think pigs obey commands the same as dogs” came a laughing female voice.

  Annie. She came from around the back of the truck.

  He stared at her. “How did you get here so fast?”

  “Well good morning to you, too. I walked through the trees, crossed the road, then walked through more trees. It’s not that far.”

  “You walked alone through the woods?”

  “Thought I’d save you an extra step.”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t walk alone.”

  “Ian, this is Cooper’s Corner.”

  He sighed. “Don’t be naive.”

  “Then don’t be grumpy. Or I’ll walk all the way into town.”

  “I’m just saying, you know damn well things can happen anywhere. Wasn’t there just a crazy kidnapper running through this place?”

  “That was temporary,” she sniffed.

  Her hair was down today, long and curly past her shoulders. She was wearing black pants, sans apron, so he could see the material stretching over her curves. Her hooded red sweater beneath her opened fleece jacket was snug and zipped to just between her breasts. The gloss on her lips matched, and suddenly his mouth went dry.

  “What?” she asked, and took a step backward, making him realize he’d been staring at her as if she was dessert.

  I want to eat your lipstick off. Slowly. “You clean up well.”

  “I’d say the same for you, but…” She took in his faded jeans, sweatshirt and denim jacket, all of which had seen better days.

  “I was working with Thomas this morning.”

  “I can see that. How’s your leg?”

  “Fine.”

  “You have a real thing for that word, fine.”

  “Yeah.” Eyeing the pig, he started toward her.

  Augustine stood her ground, nose twitching in anger.

  “Interesting watchdog.” Annie squatted down, holding out her hand for the pig.

  “Don’t. I’m sure you’re fond of those fingers.”

  “Oh, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Isn’t that right?” she murmured to Augustine. “Aren’t you adorable?”

  She was talking baby talk to the ugliest pig who’d ever lived, which made Ian want to growl as loudly as Augustine had. “She’s not adorable, she’s a menace to her race, she—”

  That was the last word he got out before his cane came out from beneath him, and to the ground he went, right on his ass.

  “Oh! Oh, Ian—” Before he could so much as draw a breath to swear with, Annie was on her knees between his splayed ones, her hands running over his body. “Are you okay? What hurts? Your leg?”

  He tried to concentrate on his body, to take stock of what hurt the most, or how the ice was slowly melting into the seat of his jeans, but the truth was, Annie was snuggled between his legs, her hands all over him, and that pretty much worked as a pain blocker.

  Her hands cupped his jaw, tilting his face up to hers. And then she put her mouth to his cheek. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just breathe.”

  Like he could do that with her lips on him. The way she leaned over him, her long hair brushing his face and arms… Her breasts, right at eye level, jiggled beneath the red sweater.

  “Is it your leg?”

  Well, now that she reminded him, yeah, it burned like fire. He was fairly certain when the doctor had told him to take it easy, he certainly hadn’t meant for Ian to be slamming himself to the ground. Shifting just a little made it worse and he let out an involuntary hiss of breath.

  “Oh, Ian…” She kissed him again, closer to his lips this time. “I should back up, I’m probably hurting you more.”

  “No!” He lowered his voice. “You’re fine.”

  Her hands slid to his injured thigh. “Give yourself a minute.”

  He’d give himself forever if she’d keep climbing all over his body and pressing her mouth to his.

  “Does this help?” Gently she started to massage the spot, and he let out another sound, this one of pleasure.

  Yes, it helped. God. It’d help even more if she’d move her fingers a few inches up and over. She was soft, warm, and looking at him with such concern and fear it boggled the rest of his working brain cells.

  On all fours, she leaned over him in an unintentionally erotic position. And then there was that delicious red sweater she wore. The tie for the hood had pompoms on the ends, and they dangled to the tips of her breasts. He stared at the zipper between them and wondered what would happen if he leaned forward and took the metal between his teeth and tugged.

  “Ian?”

  Losing his mind completely, he captured her head in his hands and lined up their lips.

  She mewled a sexy little surprised murmur.

  His fingers tightened on her head and he angled in for a better connection, moaning when she let out another sigh. But after only one mind-melting beat, she pulled back.

  Their lips broke contact with a soft suction noise that shot straight between his thighs.

  “Better?” she whispered, then licked the lips he’d just been tasting.

  “What flavor is your lip gloss, strawberry?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Did you hit your head?”

  “It tastes like strawberry.”

  “Are you hurt?” She eyed him. “You’re not, are you?”

  “Don’t be too hasty,” he said. “I could be dying. In fact, I think I am.”

  She bit her lower lip between her teeth, regarding him from beneath long, black lashes. “What would it take to make you feel better?”

  “I’m thinking another kiss.” He cocked his head and thought about it. “Yep. Definitely another kiss.”

  “I thought so.” She got to her feet. “I should have known you were too hardheaded to get really hurt.”

  “It wasn’t my head that I fell on,” he complained, and started to struggle to his feet as well.

  With a sigh, Annie moved in and slid her arms around him, helping him up. For just a mome