Troublemaker Read online

  His tone was absent. She looked up from zipping her jeans to see that his attention was riveted on what she was doing. His expression was so hungry that her heart skipped a beat and she froze, trying to get a handle on her immediate response to nothing more than that, just an expression. She felt breathless and turned on; a minute ago her wet feet had been cold from the lake water, but one look from him was all it took for heat to wash over her from her toes to her head.

  Her cheeks were hot as she got her shoes. She wasn’t shy but she’d never been a flirt, never wanted to flirt. Why not just be up front and save everyone time and trouble? But now she wanted to tease him and get him as revved up as she felt, though if she went by his actions last night he didn’t need much revving.

  She took a deep breath and composed herself, remembering that he’d wanted a long swim. “If you want to go back in the water, I can hold Tricks to keep her from saving you again. For all I know, if you go back in the water, she might write you off as wasted effort.”

  “She would, too,” he muttered. “But, yeah, I’d like a longer swim. I’m way out of shape.”

  “How long could you swim before?”

  “Fifteen miles or so. Like I said, we trained our asses off.”

  Fifteen . . . miles? He could swim farther than it was from her house to Hamrickville? She said faintly, “Yeah, I can see how just swimming a couple of miles would be disappointing.”

  “The first couple of miles is just fun. After ten miles, it stops being fun and starts being work.”

  She called Tricks to her and held her firmly while Morgan waded back into the lake, made a shallow dive, and began crossing the lake with strong, smooth strokes of his arms. Tricks strained against her hold, whining low in her throat with her dark gaze fixed on Morgan’s disappearing form, but Bo reassured her that he was all right and after a minute she took her cue from Bo’s attitude.

  While keeping a weather eye on Morgan for the raised fist that would signal distress—and, oh shit, she hoped she didn’t have to go into that cold water, though she would if she had to—she began throwing the ball into the lake for Tricks to retrieve, combining her two favorite things, retrieving and swimming. After a while the sun got too hot on her face and arms and she called Tricks out, let her shake, then toweled her off and spread a dry towel next to the quilt for Tricks to lie down on. Morgan had stopped swimming up and down the lake and was gliding toward them, his arms moving steadily, so she guessed the aquatics were at an end for the day.

  He was breathing fast as he waded out. She met him at the edge of the water with a towel. “Thanks,” he said, rubbing it roughly over his head, then swiping at his chest and arms and legs. Going to where he’d dropped his clothes, he stepped out of his wet boxers and pulled on his jeans commando. His movements were economical, not giving her much time to enjoy the view, but she took what she could get and what she got was an eyeful. Boy parts weren’t pretty but good God almighty, Morgan’s were impressive. She felt breathless remembering lying pinned beneath him while he stroked in and out of her body. What was she supposed to do with this feeling? They’d had sex; neither of them had made any promises, however vague, to each other.

  He dropped down on the quilt and lay spread-eagled, his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. “God, that felt good.”

  She supposed some things just needed to be, without any great introspection or examination, so she knelt beside the cooler, opened it, and pulled out a couple of Naked Pigs. “Here, you can celebrate with a beer. Ready for a sandwich?”

  “Or two,” he said, sitting up to take the beers from her and open them while she got out the sandwiches. He turned up his bottle and drank deep. He’d been out long enough that the sun had brought deeper color to the tops of his shoulders and his arms. He sat with his legs drawn up and his arms draped over his spread knees, looking out over the lake with his gaze narrowed against the sunlight glinting on the water, the neck of the beer bottle hooked between two fingers. His posture couldn’t have gotten any more “guy,” and it was startlingly attractive.

  She sat tailor-fashion at an angle to him, getting the food out of the cooler and dividing it between them. She poured Tricks’s food into a bowl, and the sound brought Tricks jumping up from her towel, tail wagging. For a couple of minutes there was silence except for the sounds of man, woman, and dog paying attention to their food.

  Food always tasted better on a picnic, Bo thought, even when the food was just a sandwich and a cold beer. Whether it was the sun, the fresh air, or the peace and quiet, her taste buds were either more sensitive, or more easily satisfied. And she had Morgan, and Tricks—for now, for today.

  Tricks was too tired to try to guilt them out of their food, so she returned to her towel and curled up for a doggy nap, completely satisfied with her day so far. Morgan wolfed down his first sandwich but took his time on the second one. Bo was comfortable with the silence; she finished most of her sandwich, ate a cookie, then stretched out on the quilt with a sigh of contentment. She could take a nap, she thought drowsily, rolling over to pillow her head on her crossed arms.

  “Did I take advantage last night?” Morgan asked, his deep voice taking command and snapping her out of her soporific mood. She opened one eye to study him, found him watching her with that piercing, intent look of his.

  She considered that, rejected the idea that she hadn’t been capable of knowing her own mind. “I could have said no if I’d wanted to. I didn’t want to.” She yawned.

  “That’s kind of how I was looking at it, too, but I wanted to make sure.”

  “I won’t lie; yesterday was a nightmare. I was upset, I was grieving—”

  “Grieving?” He looked surprised at the word.

  She waved it away. She didn’t want to explain that she’d been grieving the loss of her blinders, that now she saw how she’d deluded herself into thinking she could keep her heart and Tricks safe, that every day they were perched precariously on the cliff of chance, and chance could send them toppling over. Instead she said, “In my mind, she was dead. Even when I knew she wasn’t, getting over it wasn’t easy. For a minute . . . for a minute I was in hell. But—” Her tone got stronger. “But crying didn’t turn me into a weakling. I was crying, that’s all.”

  He reached out and wrapped his big rough hand around her ankle. “I never thought of you as a weakling. But I’ve never said I understand how women think, and I had to allow for the possibility that you thought . . . shit, I’m confusing myself. If you’re okay with last night, then that’s good.”

  “I’m okay with it.” Because she could, she laid her hand on his bare shoulder, then rubbed it down his back. “More than okay.” She paused, then said, “So . . . why are you blowing sunshine up my skirt? If I were wearing one, that is.”

  He released her ankle and in silence finished his sandwich, then lay back on the quilt beside her and rested his beer bottle on his bare stomach. “What makes you think I’m blowing sunshine?” he asked as he got comfortable, just when she’d thought he wasn’t going to answer.

  “Please. When was the last time you were uncertain about anything, especially a woman? You think I haven’t been paying attention to how you operate since you’ve been here?”

  He patted her thigh. “Can’t put anything over on you, can I?” He didn’t sound worried about it; in fact, there was a definite note of satisfaction there.

  “So what was the point?”

  “Just trying to make you think you had a little bit of control,” he said, then burst out laughing when she swiftly pinched him. “Ow!”

  “You deserved it.” She gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes again, basking in the peace, the light breeze rustling through the tree limbs overhead and changing the dapple pattern of the sunshine. Tricks was sound asleep, resting after her exertions. Morgan was stretched out just inches away, and his presence let something relax deep inside her, as if she knew he was on guard and she was safe. She moved her hand so she was touching his