Susan Mallery - Irresistible

“You wouldn’t have needed my help if you were a man.”

“Maybe.” Probably. But that wasn’t the point. “You slunk back here and put on the tire while I wasn’t looking. You even rubbed dirt on it so it wouldn’t look so new. And let me tell you, that’s just strange.”

He actually smiled. It was slight-no teeth, but somehow the action made him look open and approachable. “That was Randy’s idea.”

“It sounds like him.”

He took a step back. “Want to come in and talk about this or do you prefer my porch?”

“The porch is fine. This isn’t a social call.”

The smile faded. “Elissa, I get it. You don’t like that I bought you a tire. Yours had so many patches, it was dangerous. I should have let it go, but I couldn’t. I’m not going to apologize for what I did. I didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t want anything.” He held up the pie. “Except this. It smells good.”

She liked that he wasn’t using her tire against her. Gee, how many times had she been able to say that before in her life?

“I know you thought you were doing a good thing,” she said slowly. “But you don’t have the right to meddle in my life. I called Randy to find out what it cost. I think he lowballed me by about ten bucks, so I’ll be paying you back fifty dollars. It’s going to take me some time, but the pie is to show I’m sincere about it and here’s the first payment.”

He looked at the tattered bill. “I don’t want your money.”

“I don’t want to owe you.” She might not have much cash on hand, but she paid her bills on time and she never used credit except in emergencies where there was a risk of death or dismemberment.

“You’re stubborn,” he said.

“Thank you. I’ve worked hard to get this way.”

“What if I told you the money didn’t mean anything to me?” he asked.

Meaning what? He had plenty? She sighed at the thought. In her next life she was going to be rich for sure. It was right at the top of her wish list. But in this one…

“It matters to me,” she told him.

“Fine. But you don’t have to pay me in cash. We could work out a trade.”

White-hot anger blew up inside of her. Here it was-the truth. Behind that pretty face was a disgusting, evil, heartless bastard. Just like nearly every other guy on the planet.

Of course. Why was she even surprised? She’d been momentarily attracted to Walker, and based on her stellar track record, that meant there had to be something wrong with him. She’d expected a massive flaw. But she hadn’t thought it would be this.

“Not even if you were the last man alive after nuclear winter,” she said between gritted teeth. “I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would be willing…” She wanted to slap him. “It was a tire. It’s not like you gave me a kidney.”

He had the nerve to actually smile at her. “You’d sleep with me if I gave you a kidney?”

“You know what I mean. I’m done here. I’ll mail the rest of the money.”

She turned to leave, but suddenly he was somehow between her and the steps. How on earth had he moved so quickly?

His dark gaze claimed hers and all the humor fled from his face.

“Dinner,” he said quietly. “I was talking about a few meals. You cook every night and I can smell it. I’ve been existing on frozen dinners and bumming meals off my sister-in-law. When I said a trade, that’s what I meant. That’s all I meant.”

He wasn’t touching her, yet she felt his nearness. He was so much bigger than she was-she should have been afraid. She was nervous, but that was different.

Dinner, huh? It, ah, made sense. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Because, honestly, who would expect sex after replacing a cheap tire?

“Sorry,” she said, dropping her gaze to the center of his chest. “I thought you were…”

“I got that. I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Wouldn’t what? Want sex with her? Not that she was doing that sort of thing these days, or for many days to come, but why was he so able to dismiss her? She might be wholesome, but she was kind of pretty. And smart. Smart counted, didn’t it?

Maybe he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was engaged. Maybe he was gay.

That last thought made her smile. Somehow she didn’t think Walker was gay.

“Let’s start over,” he said. “I bought the tire because I didn’t think yours could take one more patch. Randy charged me forty-five dollars for it. I’ll accept the pie and money. You can continue to pay me back as slowly as you’d like. Forget what I said about dinner, okay? The money is fine.”

He was doing everything right. So why did she want to argue with him?

“That works for me,” she said.

“Then we have a deal.”

He shifted the pie to his left hand and held out his right so they could shake on it.

She pressed her palm against his and nodded. “Good.”

His fingers were warm and strong. She felt a little quiver low in her belly. The unexpected reaction made her pull away and take a step back.

Danger came in all shapes and sizes. This particular form was big, powerful and far too sexy for her peace of mind. She still had thirteen years of celibacy ahead of her. Hanging around with Walker wasn’t going to make it easy.

Not that they were hanging. Nope. Not a single hang here.

“I should, ah, go,” she murmured as she edged around him and started down the stairs. “Enjoy the pie.”

“I will. Thank you, Elissa.”

She raced into her house and quickly closed the door behind her. Once there, she leaned against the wood until her heart rate returned to normal.

It was only then she noticed she was still holding the five dollars she’d tried to give him. There was no way she was going back up there tonight. She would leave it in his mailbox or something.

It was painfully obvious she should avoid Walker at all costs. He might be nice on the surface, but her original premise was still true. If she was attracted to him, then there was something seriously wrong with him. Right now, she couldn’t afford another male disaster in her life. She was still paying for the last one.

Literally.

WALKER DIDN’T HAVE a chance to knock on his brother’s front door. He was barely halfway up the walk when the door was flung open and a very pregnant Penny raced-well, waddled-out to greet him.

“You have a toolbox,” she said as she hugged him as tightly as her large stomach would allow. “Tell me there are tools inside. Real tools with handles and metal ends and unknown purposes?”

He wrapped one arm around her while he hoisted the metal toolbox with the other. “I left my pretend tools at home. When you asked me to bring tools, I thought you meant the real ones.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I did. I love Cal. He’s brilliant and charming and other things I won’t mention out of respect for the two of you being brothers, but he’s not so handy.”

“I heard that,” Cal grumbled from the doorway. “I’m very handy.”

“Of course, dear,” Penny said as she pushed past him. “Are you sure this is okay?” she asked Walker. “Helping out?”

He bent down and kissed her cheek, then closed his hand into a fist and bumped it against his brother’s closed fingers. “Happy to be here. You’re pregnant, you’re still working and Cal’s busy running an empire. I’ve got time.”

He followed them through a living room piled with boxes. Penny had moved into Cal’s house shortly after the wedding in early July. Even though that was nearly six weeks ago, she hadn’t done much in the way of unpacking.

“You’re judging me,” Penny called over her shoulder. “I can feel it. I know this mess violates your military code of honor or whatever, but just go with it.”

“Did I say anything?” Walker asked with a grin.

“You didn’t have to.”

She tucked her long auburn curls behind her ear and paused in front of the kitchen. “The rest of the place may be a mess, but the kitchen is perfect.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Walker glanced at his brother. “How many boxes did you have to find room for?”

“I lost count,” Cal said easily. “When I hit twenty-five, I figured there was no point in knowing.”

Penny was the executive chef at The Waterfront, one of four restaurants owned by Buchanan Enterprises. It was, in theory, a family-owned business, but only one of the Buchanan siblings worked there.

“I need the right equipment,” Penny said as she stepped aside and motioned for Walker to enter the kitchen. “You can’t create magic from crap.”

“You should put that on your business card,” he said as he took in the pale, buttery walls and the large pot rack hanging above the island. Without the dark red paint, the kitchen looked bigger. Windows let in light and brought out the colors in the new tile backsplash.

“You put in a backsplash but you haven’t unpacked or gotten the baby’s furniture ready?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Cal looked at him pityingly. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”

Penny’s gaze sharpened. “I’m sorry. Were you being critical just then? Did you plan for me to cook for you today?”

“He didn’t mean it,” Cal said, stepping between them. “Not everyone understands how your incredible mind works.” He lowered his voice. “Walker brought tools, remember?”

Penny laughed. “I know. It’s okay. Just don’t make me feel guilty. My back hurts.”

“Sorry,” Walker told her, enjoying their banter. He’d always liked Cal and Penny as a couple and had been happy to see them get back together. “Now about the baby’s room.”

“It’s through here,” Penny said, leading the way. “We finished painting last week. Well, Cal did. I supervised.”

“From a distance,” Cal reminded her.

She sighed. “Right. I wasn’t allowed to breathe the fumes. We have the curtains up, too. Now all we need is furniture. We physically own everything-the dresser, changing table, crib-but it’s in boxes.”