Jacked Up (25 page)

It would be easier if she did. Stop him from thinking thoughts about her naked body he shouldn’t be thinking.

But a hint of color rose in her cheeks. “No, no boyfriend or fiancé. And I still live with my parents in the farmhouse. I guess that sounds kind of lame, doesn’t it? Especially to someone like you who left home right out of high school.”

He’d left home all right, chomping at the bit to get the hell out of Cuttersville. And twelve years later he was starting to wonder what he’d been running from. The success he’d wanted, expected to find in Chicago or New York, hadn’t arrived, and he had given up painting altogether a year ago. It hurt to pick up a pencil or brush and know that he couldn’t replicate on paper what he saw in his mind.

“If you’re happy, then there’s nothing lame about it.”

She nodded. Then said, “Do you want me to put your shirt in the dryer? The shoulders are soaking wet.”

He’d forgotten about the damp cotton clinging to his skin. The house didn’t have air-conditioning, and it was still summer temperatures. He wasn’t cold. But neither was he going to refuse a perfectly legit chance to take his shirt off in front of her and see her reaction.

“Thanks.” Brady peeled it off, and wondered what the hell he was doing. Hadn’t he just told himself this girl—seven big long years younger than him—was off-limits? And here he was going for the flirt.

But he supposed every man had a bad habit. Some drank, others smoked, quite a few gambled to excess, and hell, some did all three. His weakness was women. He liked to flirt, liked to make women smile and laugh. He loved to wine and dine and sixty-nine a woman. Nothing wrong with that if both parties knew the score. Brady wasn’t the settling-down kind. He had been born restless, and this trip back to nowheres-ville for no good reason was further proof of that.

So he bunched up his shirt and stood, stretching a little so she had a good shot of the pecs and his ripped stomach. All those hours at the gym should be worth something. “The dryer still in the basement? I’ll just toss it in.”

Piper’s eyes had gone wide. He was almost sorry he’d stripped the T-shirt off. She looked horrified, not flirtatious. But then her eyes dropped down, just a little, and she ran her tongue across thick, plump lips. “Oh, I’ll get it,” she said, her voice a sweet, husky whisper.

Damn, he knew that look, felt that vibe, could practically smell the attraction that had sprung up between them. Good thing the twins were upstairs sleeping, or he’d be severely tempted to taste Piper Tucker from tip to toe.

This was not a woman he could fool around with.

It was a mantra he was going to have to repeat all week long. Along with the friendly little reminder to himself that Shelby would tear his head off, and Danny Tucker would rip something even more important off him if they found out he was fooling around with Piper. And Amanda? Hell, she might be the worst of all. She wouldn’t tear something off Brady, she’d string him up by his nuts, spray him with honey, and let the bees at him.

Piper was extra special to them because Danny hadn’t known she existed until she was eight years old.

Not a woman he should be messing around with. Repeat ten times twice daily and maybe it would sink in.

Yet he still found himself moving in just a little too close to her when he handed over the shirt. “That’s sweet of you. I left my travel bag in the trunk.”

“No problem. I . . .” Piper looked over his shoulder.

“What?” Brady half turned, expecting to see one of the kids standing in the doorway. Good thing he hadn’t given into his very inappropriate urge to kiss her.

“Nothing.” Piper darted her eyes back to him. Then behind him again. Her cheeks flushed. Her head tilted, sending her hair cascading over her forehead and right eye.

“What are you looking at?” She obviously saw something back there. “A mouse?”

“No. Nothing.” Step one, step two, she shifted around to his side and stood stiffly, tugging her tank top down again.

Then Brady knew what it was. What he’d forgotten about Piper Tucker from all those years ago, the summer he had been fifteen and she’d arrived in town.

“You still see ghosts, don’t you?”

Piper stared at Brady in astonishment. “I . . . I . . . don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

Only she wasn’t all that great of a liar. She couldn’t even look him in the eye as she spoke.

But she wasn’t about to admit that a ghost of a man with blond hair was standing right behind Brady, smiling and nodding his head up and down.

“Come on, Piper. I remember. You used to ask me to draw pictures for you. Pictures of the ghosts you saw.”

Dang. Why would he remember something like that? And why were they having this conversation while he wasn’t wearing a shirt? She had almost whimpered when he’d exposed his chest to her. Brady had filled out a bit in the last twelve years. In all the right places.

“I was just a kid. I had an active imagination.” Her parents had forgotten about her imaginary friends and ghost sightings. Or at least, they never mentioned them to her anymore. It wasn’t something Piper ever wanted to discuss with anyone, least of all Brady Stritmeyer, a lifelong crush she clearly hadn’t quite gotten over.

“Bullshit,” he said.

Titles by Erin McCarthy

A DATE WITH THE OTHER SIDE

HEIRESS FOR HIRE

The Fast Track Series

FLAT-OUT SEXY

HARD AND FAST

HOT FINISH

THE CHASE

SLOW RIDE

JACKED UP

The Vegas Vampires Series

HIGH STAKES

BIT THE JACKPOT

BLED DRY

SUCKER BET

The Deadly Sins Series

MY IMMORTAL

FALLEN

THE TAKING

Anthologies

THE NAKED TRUTH

(with Donna Kauffman, Beverly Brandt, and Alesia Holliday)

AN ENCHANTED SEASON

(with Maggie Shayne, Nalini Singh, and Jean Johnson)

THE POWER OF LOVE

(with Lori Foster, Toni Blake, Dianne Castell, Karen Kelley, Rosemary Laurey, Janice Maynard, LuAnn McLane, Lucy Monroe, Patricia Sargeant, Kay Stockham, and J. C. Wilder)

FIRST BLOOD

(with Susan Sizemore, Chris Marie Green, and Meljean Brook)