The Trouble With Tomboys (27 page)

The Trouble with Tomboys

of neat tricks.”

After stripping off his button-up shirt, Grady tugged his undershirt from his jeans. “And why are you reading a romance novel?” he asked, sending her an odd look.

B.J. rolled her eyes and sighed. The man would never get it, would he?

“I’m trying to get in touch with my feminine side.” Duh.

She nearly sighed aloud as he pulled his T-shirt off, leaving his chest bare. His defined pecs glistened in the dim light from her bedside reading lamp. God, he was so beautiful. He probably didn’t even realize his striptease was turning her on like crazy.

“Your
feminine
side?” He snorted as he sat on the edge of the mattress to tug off his socks. “Why do you want one of those? I like you how you are.”

Stunned, B.J. bolted upright, her finger

unconsciously slipping from the page she’d marked.

“No, you don’t.”

About to toss his socks toward the laundry

hamper across the room, Grady turned to eye her with an incredulous lift of his eyebrows. “Excuse me?” “You can’t like me like this,” she told him in no unnecessary terms. “Every man prefers
girly
women with their frou-frou hairdos and smelly perfumes.

God, even Ralphie Smardo preferred Nan Lundy to me.” Grady froze. “What? Raphie Smardo? Why the hell is
his
name coming up in
our
bedroom? I thought he was only sympathy sex for you.”

She cracked out a disgusted laugh, and to her mortification, her eyes watered. She blinked repeatedly “Yeah, but still...he didn’t have to go and act so appalled afterward. You’d a thought I’d given him an STD or something. Let me tell you, it’s a sobering realization when your own dorky best 219

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friend thinks you’re not woman enough for him. I don’t care how much I didn’t want sex with him ever again, he didn’t want me either. He didn’t want me.”

Lips parting, Grady whispered, “Oh, B.J.” He reached out, but she only smacked his hand away and scowled, suddenly wishing she’d kept her big trap shut.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” she charged and backed across the bed away from him as he started crawling toward her. “Not you. Not the king of Thou-shall-not-pity-me.”

“Will you just...stay still!” he muttered, leaping until he tackled her, trapping her under the sheets so she couldn’t even move.

B.J. growled and glared up at him.

He scowled back a moment before he buried his face in her hair and laughed. “Jesus,” he chuckled.

“You are something else, telling me what I do and don’t like.”

“But—”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me a

second?”

Taken aback by his attitude, B.J. let her jaw drop open.

His blue gaze sparkled as it met hers. “B.J., listen to me and listen good. You have the same taste in movies I do. I get to see all the great action flicks and haven’t had to watch a single sappy romantic drama yet since we’ve been married. You prefer sports to the cooking and home decorating channels. Plus you’re fun to talk to because you’re into engines and racing, and you’ve never once tried to stuff healthy junk like salads and vegetables down me.”

After pressing a light, quick kiss to her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers. “You don’t ask me what I’m feeling every three minutes. If I’m not talking, you don’t think it’s because I’m mad at you.

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I like how you don’t clutter the bathroom with a load of useless perfumes bottles because, to me, nothing smells as good as a plain, clean woman. It’s like...you have all the perks and none of the downfalls. In fact, you just might be the perfect woman. So, don’t go telling me what I don’t prefer. I know what I like.

And I like everything about you just as it is. If you even think about trying to change, we’re going to have problems.”

B.J. could only stare at him in awe as he leaned up to press another light, teasing kiss to her mouth.

“You really don’t mind if I’m a tomboy?”

“No,” he murmured against her mouth. “I really don’t.”

He kissed her for a few seconds longer, before B.J. pulled away. “Well, in that case,” she muttered, wiggling out from under him to get free, “I’m going to change.”

“Change?” Grady asked, frowning as he sat up to give her space.

When she ripped aside the covers to expose the silk and lace two-piece she was wearing, his mouth fell open.

“Holy God,” he breathed, his eyes soaking in the skimpy bra and thong set.

“I’ll be right back,” B.J. said, popping off the bed to head toward the bathroom.

“Whoa!” he called, leaping after her and hooking an arm around her waist to drag her back. “Let’s not be too hasty now.”

He tugged until the smooth globes of her butt brushed his chest. Kissing the base of her back right above her panty line, he cupped her bare backside in his hands and started to lick his way up her spine.

B.J. gasped and sat down on the edge of the bed in order to let him continue. Bowing her head as he lifted her hair and ran his tongue along the back of her neck, she said, “But I thought you said you liked 221

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me being a tomboy.”

“Mmm.” He slipped his hands around to cup her breasts with both palms. “What does this have to do with being a tomboy?”

B.J.’s back arched when he slipped his fingers inside the bra to get to her nipples, causing her long, free-flowing hair to tumble over his shoulder like pure silk. “So, this isn’t at all frou-frou or girly, huh?”

“Hell no,” he growled, fumbling a little in his haste to shed the bra. “Amy, the ultimate supporter of all things frou-frou and girly, wouldn’t have been caught dead in a thong. This is what I call drop-dead gorgeous.”

B.J. purred when his caress found the center of her heat. Sliding her panties down her thighs, he nibbled his way up her throat.

“Do you want to know what I think of Ralphie Smardo?” he asked just before catching her earlobe with his teeth.

Sighing out her pleasure as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access, B.J. asked, “No, I’m not sure I do.”

He chuckled and told her anyway. “I think he was scared because you’re
too much
of a woman, and he knew he’d never be able to handle you.”

B.J. lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, but you think you can
handle
me, huh?” Her voice held a certain challenge even though her eyes sparked with

pleasure at his true meaning.

He grinned and tossed her underwear over his shoulder. “No, not really. But that’s not going to stop me from trying.”

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The next morning, Grady woke hard and

hungry. And even though his stomach wouldn’t stop rumbling, he decided to ignore his appetite in favor of the other pressing need. An hour later, showered and dressed, he whistled as he strode to his truck.

Before Houston, he’d always been eager to go to work, to escape his lonely, memory-filled house. But this morning, he felt reluctant to leave. B.J. was inside. It didn’t matter if she’d be heading out soon herself to go to the hangar. She was in there now.

And since she was, that was where he wanted to be.

He cringed, thinking he sounded pathetic for wanting to be with her nonstop. But then he

realized, hey, he was a newlywed. Of course he wanted to spend every waking hour with his wife.

Realizing, yes, he was indeed a newlywed, it suddenly struck him they’d totally bypassed a honeymoon. He should ask her tonight if she wanted to go away for a few days...or weeks. He grinned.

The woman would probably want to see a NASCAR

race, which was perfectly fine by him. He liked her tastes and was happy about the fact he’d never have to attend another craft fair in his life.

Craving coffee, he decided to stop by the diner on his way to Rawlings Oil. Someone at the office usually made a pot, but whoever did couldn’t brew to save their life...and since the smell made B.J. sick to her stomach, he couldn’t make his own at home. As he stepped into the café, however, the smell of frying bacon, scrambled eggs and hot apple pie made his stomach growl.

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He ordered a full meal with his coffee even

though he’d already eaten once this morning.

Grinning, he realized it was entirely B.J.’s fault. He wouldn’t have worked up such an appetite if she’d kept her hands off him in the shower and hadn’t demanded she wash his back because he’d missed a spot. After that, he’d felt obligated to offer the same courtesy. And pretty soon, they were cleaning each other against the shower wall. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d been inside her only minutes earlier. He was always ready for more with B.J.

The extra-long shower and double breakfast

made him late for work, but he wasn’t too concerned.

If he was needed so badly, he’d just stay later this evening. Being late was worth having such a

wonderful morning.

He dropped by the office first thing. After

checking his e-mails and answering machine to find no one had left him any pressing matters to attend to, he decided to head out and spend the day in the field. For some reason, he wanted to be active today.

He felt energized enough he could probably go for hours without a break.

Whistling again, he stopped by his dad’s office to let the old man know where he’d be.

“Hey, Dad.” Knocking on Tucker Rawlings half-opened door, he poked his head inside to find the room empty, the screensaver on the computer

flashing family photos across the monitor. Glancing out into the hallway, Grady didn’t spot his dad nearby, so he stepped inside and snagged a Post-it note to leave a quick message. He’d just reached for a pen when he spotted B.J.’s name on an official-looking piece of paper sitting among his father’s things.

Frowning, he changed direction and snagged the document. “What the hell?”

It didn’t take him long to realize he was holding 224

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a prenuptial agreement. Mouth falling open, he smoothed out the tri-fold, causing another set of papers to fall out the bottom, landing on the desk.

He slowly picked up the deed to B.J.’s plane. A sickening feeling crept through his stomach.

Returning his attention to the prenup, he

scanned every numbered line, feeling more nauseous with each addendum he read. “Oh, God.”

“Grady?”

Grady lifted his head and found his father

paused in the doorway. With a half-eaten doughnut in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other, Tucker Rawlings had a guilty expression smeared across his features.

“What—”

“Dad, what is all this?”

Tucker set his snack on the corner of his desk and lifted both his hands. “Grady, I can explain.”

“Oh, my God,” Grady breathed. “You
paid
her to marry me?”

“No. I…I…I just wanted you to be happy. I

didn’t think—”

“And she just...she
agreed
to all this?”

Tucker stepped toward Grady, but Grady shifted backward. His father froze, his face an ashen gray. “I love you, son. I would’ve done anything to help you.”

“How…” When his voice broke, Grady shook his head, still reeling in disbelief. “How does this help me?” He couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it.

B.J. wouldn’t marry him just because—

His throat burning, he blinked rapidly as he looked down at the documents in his hands.

“Grady! Hey, there you are.”

At the sound of her voice coming from the hall, he whirled and about passed out at the sight of his wife. She paused in the doorway, all five feet and ten lovely inches of her, grinning at him as she held up 225

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his briefcase. “I was walking out the door this morning when I caught sight of this sitting on the kitchen table. Thought you might need it for—” She broke off in mid-sentence, her smile slipping. After a quick look toward his dad, she turned back to Grady.

“What’s wrong?”

Grady held up the deed. “You made a deal with my dad?”

When her gaze latched onto the document, her face drained of color. She lurched a step in reverse.

“Grady,” Tucker started, lifting both hands

again like that pose could actually keep the peace.

“You stay out of this,” Grady warned with a look that had his dad freezing. “I already know your side.

I want to hear hers.”

“But you really didn’t hear my side. I haven’t actually told you every—”

“Then B.J. can fill in the blanks,” Grady growled as he stormed toward her and snagged her elbow, drawing her back into the hall and toward his own office. After ushering her inside, he let go his hold and shut the door behind him.

She stood in the center of the room, clutching his briefcase to her side, and silently watched him as he wiped a hand over his mouth and paced. Finally, he stopped short and seared her with a look. “So my father bought the deed to your airplane in order to coax you into marrying me?”

She gave a short nod, which made him clench

his teeth. He wanted her to say something to defend herself. He wanted a reason to start yelling. But the damn woman refused to oblige.

Seething, he nodded in return. “Was this before or after I gave you the ring?”

“Before,” she said in a low voice.

Pain shot straight up his windpipe. For a

moment, he thought he was going to choke to death.

When he realized he could still breathe, he huffed 226

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out a short breath. “So...that whole scene where you kept telling me no and I had to seduce you into saying yes, that was just, what...playing hard to get?” Her jaw clenched. “No. That was me not wanting to give into your father’s agreement.”

“But you did anyway. You agreed to marry me.

You signed your name right here next to this X, willing to give up the baby,
our
baby, for what? For a
plane
? My God, B.J. If you wanted the plane that much, I could’ve bought you the goddamn plane.”

“It’s not about the plane,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke.