Jill Shalvis - Instant Temptation

“Five-cheese,” TJ murmured as if recounting a long-lost lover, “and three-meat lasagna. A restaurant-sized tray of it.”

Oh, God. She let out a small involuntary moan.

His eyes dilated. “There’ll be homemade bread, too. French loaf. Crusty on the outside, soft and gooey on the inside.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said weakly.

Her stomach made a liar of her by rumbling loudly.

TJ’s lips twitched, but he was wise enough to hold the smile back. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll inhale the entire loaf myself.” He rubbed his flat belly. “And possibly all the lasagna, too.”

She thought about the questionable cottage cheese in her refrigerator. “Well, if you need saving from yourself…I guess I wouldn’t want you to get any more…you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Extra around the middle.”

He arched a brow. “Extra around the middle?”

She poked his rock-solid abs. “Don’t worry. It happens to everyone.”

He lifted his shirt and bent his head to look at himself.

His jeans were low riding, revealing lean hips and a set of abs etched in sinewy ridges. Heat slashed through her and she began to sweat in places she hadn’t even realized had sweat glands.

Not good.

She tried to picture Nolan in her head. Sweet, kind, adorable Nolan. She couldn’t do it. She told herself not to panic. It was only because she hadn’t seen Nolan without a shirt.

“You’re right.” TJ let his shirt fall back into place. “You should definitely come with me and save me from myself.” He walked into her kitchen and made sure her back door was locked. He flipped off the kitchen light, then turned and faced her, stopping when he found her staring at him.

“We don’t even like each other,” she said, confused.

“I like you just fine. Sure, you’re as difficult and grumpy as Chuck, but no one’s perfect.”

She choked out a laugh. Chuck was the Wilder mascot, a disheveled stray that they’d hardly recognized as a cat at first sight. He’d shown up last winter, scrawny and half a heartbeat from starvation. He’d been neglected and terrified.

Annie and Katie had taken him under their wings, fattening him up, loving him so thoroughly that he’d had no choice but to learn to accept them as his family.

And then Emma had determined that not only was Chuck missing a penis, but that he was pregnant. Now they had three kittens running amok in the lodge, three wild, lovable little miscreants with none of their mama’s innate mistrust and all of her penchant for trouble.

But what was it he’d just said? That he liked her just fine? What was that? Just when she thought she’d gotten used to the odd push/pull of their prickly relationship, he was changing the rules and hadn’t given her a copy. “What’s going on here, TJ? Usually, you never talk to me without a frown on your face.”

“Don’t you have that backwards?”

She stared up at him, having to concede that he might have a point. She usually was on edge with him, but it was because they had a past, one that was significant to her.

One that he didn’t even remember.

There were other reasons, too. Like the fact that no matter how dirty and grubby he got on his job, he still looked hot, while she wore her grease like a poorly chosen accessory. “I have to get out of these coveralls.”

“You know you can go like you are.”

“I know.” She’d known Cam and Stone and Annie forever. Annie’s husband Nick, too. They were warm and accepting and cared about her as much as she cared about them. She could show up in a sack and it wouldn’t matter. Changing was for her. “It’ll only take a second.” Now that she’d agreed to lasagna, she was nearly shaking with hunger. She unzipped her filthy coveralls and began to shove them down, but at the low, rough sound from TJ, she glanced over. “I’m dressed under here, you know.” She kicked free of the grimy coveralls. Beneath she wore a stretchy black tank and micro bike shorts.

“See? Full coverage.”

Her jeans were on the back of a chair. She grabbed them and slid them on, hopping up and down a little until they reached her hips.

TJ made another sound deep in his throat as she buttoned them up, and she sent him a questioning look and found his gaze so scorching hot she nearly caught fire.

Holy smokes.

“Is it really, really hot in here?” he asked ironically, voice silky, green eyes holding hers prisoner.

She was completely and utterly startled. “I’m dirty.”

“So?”

“Sweaty, too.”

“I repeat. So?”

Oh boy. “I have a boyfriend,” she whispered.

He just smiled one of the big, bad wolf smiles, took her hand and led her outside, locking her front door, walking her to his Jeep.

“I’ll drive myself,” she said.

“You’d rather drive yourself all the way out to the lodge than be in the same car as me?”

“Well, those awkward silences are so much fun.”

“We’re never silent. We’re usually arguing.”

“Hence the separate rides.”

He let out a breath. “I’m trying to save you the gas and the trouble, Harley.”

“I don’t want you to have to drive me all the way back.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But-”

“Jesus.” He swiped a hand down his face. “Just get in the damn Jeep.”

She looked into his eyes. He was looking a little irritated and also a little amused-at the both of them.

And still smoking hot.

It was a problem. He was a problem. “I’m not sure I trust you.”

Or me.

He let out a small smile. “Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m not your boyfriend.”

They drove in silence, which suited TJ just fine. It seemed to suit Harley, too. She wasn’t giving much away as they drove through town. Wishful had been around since the 1800s, once upon a time making a name for itself as the wildest corner of the wild, wild west. It’d survived the gold rush, the lumber boom, and now, thanks to sitting at 6,000 feet altitude, was an outdoor enthusiasts’ tourist stop on the way to Lake Tahoe-something TJ and his brothers had made full use of with Wilder Adventures.

At the end of town, he turned onto the highway, and then onto the narrow, private three-mile road that led to the Wilder lodge. Harley continued to stare out the window away from him, doing her best imitation of someone who didn’t give a damn-which TJ knew was yet another big, fat lie. He affected her, and he had no idea what to do with that. “You’re really good with moving to Colorado?” he asked.

She turned her head and met his gaze. “You think I’ll get the job?”

“Yes.”

She looked surprised.

That made the second time today he’d surprised her by offering support.

He knew her parents, both sixties throwbacks, who were equal parts proud of their daughter and confused by her. The support system went from Harley to them, not the other way around. Same with Skye. It was doubtful Harley ever was on the receiving end of the same level of support she gave.

She kept busy looking at the thick, lush woods on either side of the narrow, windy road that led to Wilder Adventures. The trees were pine, most well over a hundred years old and a hundred feet tall. “I figure Colorado won’t be all that different from Wishful,” she said.

“What about the boyfriend?”

“Nolan?”

He slid her a look. “You have more than one boyfriend?”

“Why do you keep saying it like that, like you’re putting quotes around his name?”

“I’m not. Nolan’s a good guy.”

“But?”

“I didn’t say but.”

“Yes, but there was definitely a but at the end of that sentence. It was a silent but implied but.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Can’t you just answer my question?”

“Fine. What exactly is the question again?”

“Why isn’t Nolan going out to Desolation with you?”

“I didn’t ask him. Listen, I realize that in your eyes I’m only a mechanic, but-”

“You’re more,” he said quietly, then met her gaze for a beat to let her see he meant it. “Far more.”

She was silent a moment, absorbing that. “I grew up out here, TJ, same as you. As the only tow truck driver in town, I’ve been called out at all hours. Alone. I’ve faced all sorts of things.”

He’d known that. He’d always hated that. Letting out a breath, he pulled into Wilder Adventures. He parked in front of the three-story lodge that he and his brothers had built, the late afternoon sun illuminating the stone and wood accents harvested from the property itself.

Home, for better or worse. He spent a lot of time away from there, and yet he always came back.

“I forget how beautiful it is,” Harley said quietly, and looked at him. “You ever think about it? Where you started out, and where you ended up?”

“Since we started out in the gutter and somehow ended up here, no. I try not to go there.”

“You didn’t somehow end up here. You guys worked your asses off. You deserve this.” With that shocking statement, she hopped out of the Jeep.

The sound of whining engines rent the air around them. Cam, Stone, and Nick-their pilot and mechanic-were racing on quads.

They’d had a lot of rain in the past few afternoons. The ATVs were churning across the yard, mud from the tires flinging up through the air in high arcs.

Annie stood off to the side, Chuck at her feet, the kittens nowhere in sight, but most likely in the lodge, creating utter destruction. Annie wore her usual dark jeans, vintage rock T-shirt, and chef’s apron. This one said: COMPLAINTS TO THE CHEF MIGHT BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH. She had her hands on her hips, and given her expression, she’d clearly rather be riding than watching, but Nick had set the law-no riding while pregnant. TJ was just glad Nick had told her that, since no one else could tell Annie what to do and live.

TJ set his hand on the small of Harley’s back and nudged her closer, just as Cam whipped past Nick and skidded to a stop right in front of them, the apparent finish line. Cam pulled off his helmet, hopped off the quad, and grinned. “I’ve still got it.”