Simply Irresistible (9 page)

Loosely speaking.

Her sisters were still prone under the tree, out cold. Chloe was snoring. Tara was…
smiling?
Not a sight Maddie had seen often. Hell, none of them were exactly free with their smiles, she’d noticed. She shook her head,
then groaned at the movement.

Note to self—
never drink again.

At some point, they’d clearly decided pj’s were a good thing. Maddie was wearing her favorite flannel Sponge-Bob drawstring
pants and a Hanes beefy tee with the words
BITE ME
across the chest. Chloe’s pj’s had come from Victoria’s Secret, but with her body, she could have worn a potato sack and
looked good. Across her teddy the words
JINGLE MY BELLS
were delicately embroidered. Tara was wearing men’s boxers, a cami, a silk bathrobe, and a pair of knee-high socks.

Maddie nudged Chloe’s foot.

“No more, Juan,” Chloe whispered. “My inhaler’s too low.”

The knock on the front door came again, and in unison Chloe and Tara sat straight up, conked their heads together, and moaned.

Maddie staggered toward the door, taking a second to stare in shock at their tree. Last night, it had been the most gorgeous
tree she’d ever seen. This morning, it stood barely three feet tall and looked like… “A Charlie Brown Christmas tree,” she
whispered. She stepped over her sisters’ legs, caught sight of herself in the small mirror over the little table in the foyer,
and just about screamed.

Her hair had rioted. The little mascara she’d had on her lashes was now outlining her eyes, and she had a crease down one
cheek from whatever she’d used as a pillow, which she suspected had been the yarn she was still wrapped in. “Never again,”
she told her pathetic reflection and then pointed at it for emphasis.

Her reflection stuck her tongue out.

With a sigh, she opened the front door, then stood there in a stupor. Standing on the porch, wearing faded Levi’s, a black
sweater over a black T-shirt, mirrored sunglasses, and a crooked smile was Jax Cullen.

M
addie stared up at Jax, who was not hung over and didn’t have a crease on his face. He looked big, and bad, and so sexy it
should be a crime, and she reacted without thinking.

She shut the door in his face.

Tara gasped.

Chloe laughed.

And Maddie covered her face. “Quick, somebody shoot me.”

“Honey.” Tara’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Maybe you don’t know this being from LA and all, but shutting the door on someone’s
nose is considered rude in almost all fifty states.”

“You don’t understand. It’s him.
Jax.
” And maybe it was the fact that her brain was on low battery, but just looking at him made her hot and bothered. Her! The
woman who’d decreed that the entire male race was scum. “What do I do?”

“Well, for starters,” Chloe said, “You stop slamming door on guys who look like
that.
”

“He has superpowers,” Maddie said, nibbling on her thumbnail.

“Yeah?” Clearly fascinated, Chloe took another peek. “Like being hot as hell?”

Tara lightly smacked Maddie’s hand from her mouth. “What does he want?”

“I’m going to guess SpongeBob Pants here,” Chloe murmured, still looking at him.

Maddie pushed her away from the window so she could take her own look. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

On the porch, Jax turned his head and gave her a slow, mischievous wink, making her jump back as if he’d bitten her. “
Oh, my God.
”

“She’s starting to repeat herself,” Chloe said to Tara, who took her turn at the window.

“Oh, sugar.” Tara took her time looking him over. “You’re not ready for the likes of him.”

“I hate to agree with her on anything,” Chloe said to Maddie. “But she might be right on this one.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, Maddie put her hand on the door handle. With a sister crowding her on either side—she wasn’t sure
whether it was for moral support or to make sure she didn’t jump his bones—she opened the door.

She had to give Jax credit. Certainly, the three of them looked like wild, grossly unpredictable creatures from Planet Estrogen.
But much as he had at the bar in the face of that pissed-off Smarmy Suit, he stood his ground. He even smiled.

“Hey,” Maddie said, taking a step forward to give them some privacy, but she tripped over the yarn. It took her a few seconds
and most of her dignity before she fought her legs free.

He pulled off his sunglasses to watch her, revealing those melted caramel eyes, which seemed to be both amused and heated.
Amused, no doubt, because of the little yarn incident, not to mention the bedhead and SpongeBob pj’s. As for why his eyes
were also heated, she could guess—he was thinking of last night.

Which made two of them, because the kisses—oh, good Lord, the kisses—were suddenly all her brain would upload. The memory
of those delicious, hot, deep, amazing kisses had kept her up most of the night. And then there’d been how his hands had felt
all over her. Just remembering had something tingling behind her belly button and heading south.

“You okay?” he asked.

Sure. She was peachy. Or she would be soon as she cleared a few things up. Because as much as just looking at him put a big,
goofy smile on her face, she had to be honest with him. Or at least as honest as she could. “About last night. I’m sorry if
I gave you the wrong impression, but I’m really not in a good place for this right now.”

He didn’t say anything to this, and the silence was worse than the hangover.

“It’s nothing personal, of course. But I can’t, I just can’t go there.” Why wasn’t he saying anything? “I’m… not interested.”
Okay, so that was liar, liar, pants on fire, but his silence was unnerving. “I mean, I realize that I probably didn’t
seem
uninterested last night, but that was
extenuating circumstances.” Those being that he was far too good-looking and he’d tasted like chocolate—lethal combination.

Fighting a smile, he reached out and started unwinding some of the yarn still around her shoulder. His fingers brushed her
collarbone and sent yippee-kayee messages to her nipples.

She snatched the yarn from him. “And as for the pier and then needing a ride, well, I’m not usually so helpless. In fact,
you should probably know…” She drew a deep breath. “I’ve given up men.”

At that, he arched a brow.

Be strong. Be confident. Be… Neytiri from
Avatar.
Okay, so Neytiri was a mythical creature, not to mention animated, but still. She was strong and confident, and that’s all
that matters at the moment.
“It’s true. At first, I was just going to give up attorneys, but that seemed immature—and far too exclusive, so I’m playing
it safe and giving up all the penis-carrying humans.” Because that was so much
more
mature.

Tara peeked out from behind the door with an apologetic wince in Jax’s direction. “It’s possible she’s still tipsy,” she explained.

“I’m not still tipsy!” She didn’t think so, anyway. “So I’m sorry if you drove all the way out here looking for a repeat of
last night, but it’s not going to happen. I’m not interested.” She held her breath in case karma was listening, ready to flatten
her with a bolt of lightning for lying.

Nothing. Well, nothing but more silence, and this time she bit her tongue rather than try to fill it with more embarrassing
chatter.

“Okay,” Jax finally said with a single nod. “That’s all… very interesting. But I’m not here for a ‘repeat.’ ”

A very bad feeling began to bounce around in her gut. “You’re not?”

“No. You called and asked me to come here.”

Maddie took a second, deeper look at him and his attire: the black sweater that upon closer inspection was really a North
Face hoodie and had JC Builders embroidered on his pec. His jeans were baggy but still emphasized his long, hard body in a
way that suggested they were old friends. He wore work boots, and, given the battered, beloved look to them, they were not
for show. But most telling was the measuring tape sticking out of a pocket and the clipboard he held resting against his thigh.

In the yard behind him was his Jeep with a big, brown dog riding shotgun.

“You’re the contractor,” she said weakly.

“Uh-huh.” He was definitely amused now. “Unless you’re no longer interested in my…
mastery.
”

Oh, God.

“After all,” he said. “I am a penis-carrying human.”

Chloe laughed.

Tara grimaced and shut the door on his face, but she did hold up a finger first and say, “Just a moment, sugar.” Once a steel
magnolia, always a steel magnolia.

“Jeez,” Chloe said in disgust. “How is it the so-called baby of this family is the only one who knows
not
to shut the door on the unspeakable hottie? I mean that’s just sacrilegious.”

Maddie groaned. “I called him. Omigod.
I
called
him.
I’m such an idiot.”

“Aw, honey.” Chloe stroked a hand down Maddie’s out-of-control hair, her fingers getting caught in the tangles and tree sap.
“You’re not an idiot. Not exactly.”

“It’s the kissing! It’s the stupid kissing! It’s like he kissed all the vital brain cells right out of my head!”

“A good kiss is a signature,” Chloe said, and when both sisters looked at her, she shrugged. “Hey, don’t blame me, it was
on one of Mom’s cards.”

Maddie shook her head. “What do I do?”

“You stick with your resolve. You’re giving up men,” Tara reminded her. “Next problem. We’re selling this property. We need
to tell him so before we waste any more of his time.”

Maddie held her breath—and her head. Damn, she really needed Advil. “Last night, we said we’d give this place a shot.”

“That was three bottles of wine talking,” Tara said.

Suddenly Maddie’s heart pounded in tune with her head. “Give me a month. Until Christmas,” she said. Begged. “We fix the place
up a little, and if you still don’t want to make it work, we’ll sell. And with the improvements, we’ll get a better price.
You’ll have lost nothing.”

Chloe looked at Tara.

Tara sighed.

“You know I’m right,” Maddie said, sensing their capitulation. This was it. She had to convince them. She wanted,
needed,
this month. “We’ll be better off for it, I promise.”

“But what will we use for money for the renovations?” Chloe asked. “All I have is a Visa card, and there’s not much left on
it after last month’s trip to Belize.”

“I have an unused MasterCard,” Tara said slowly.

“Me, too.” It was Maddie’s entire emergency contingency plan, since Alex had so unsuccessfully “invested” her small nest egg.
“It’s a start, and it shouldn’t take us more than a few weeks to refinance. And I’m still determined to find out about that
trust and talk to—”

“Let the trust go,” Tara said firmly. “Mom went to great lengths and expense to separate it and protect it, and it’s none
of our business. Besides, that’s not our real problem.”

“What’s the real problem?” Maddie asked.

“That I don’t want to be here,” Tara replied.

“You don’t have to be,” Maddie said. “We put this into motion, and I’ll stay. You two can go, and I’ll handle it.”

“Until Christmas,” Tara said. “And then we’ll sell.”

Not a mouse… Fake the strength. “If that’s how the majority votes,” Maddie said carefully, forcing herself not to back off.

“And you’re okay doing this by yourself,” Chloe clarified. “Really?”

“Yes.” Maddie looked at the closed door and drew a deep breath. “Well, maybe not
all
by myself.”

“A partner will definitely help,” Chloe said, nodding. “And I have a feeling that man knows how to
partner.
”

Maddie remembered how it’d felt to be in his arms and got a hot flash. No question, he knew how to
partner.
She’d be willing to bet her life on it. Not that it mattered.

“Sugar, how do you plan to get his help when you just rudely told him you weren’t interested?”

Oh, yeah. That. “I’m going to wing it.” With a steady breath, she pulled open the door while simultaneously attempting to
tame her hair—a losing battle.

Jax had moved along on the porch and was hunkered
down, arms braced on his thighs, studying the dry-rot on a post. When she stepped out, he straightened to his full height
and looked her over. “Everything okay?”

“Sure. We were just, um, discussing what we’re going to have for breakfast.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. You know, pancakes or Cap’n Crunch.”

“Cap’n Crunch. Always Cap’n Crunch. And you’re going to have to work on your lying.” Leaning in, he tweaked a curl. “Thin
door.”

And here she’d been worried that she wasn’t going to make enough of a fool of herself in front of him today. She glanced over
her shoulder for assistance, but her sisters had vanished.
Traitors.
“Okay, listen. I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“The drunken phone call. Shutting the door in your face twice this morning alone. The whole spiel you just heard—pick one.”