Things Good Girls Don't Do (30 page)
Read Things Good Girls Don't Do Online
Authors: Codi Gary
He tried to forget about what he’d seen under the dowdy black sweater, and choked out, “So is it just the puke you object to? Or is it the actual kid you find distasteful?”
She shook her head and walked around him. “No, I love kids. I would love some of my own someday, lots of them, but the only puke I want to clean off me is theirs. Or my husband’s, depending on how much I love him.”
He wasn’t sure he’d ever love anyone enough to let them puke on him. He tried imagining Ryan sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by a dozen little cherub faces, and the scene made him smile. She’d make a wonderful mother, being so patient with the kids who came into the studio.
“So how many is a lot?”
She smiled as she sat down at her computer. “I don’t know, maybe four? I always wanted a big family. My mom had complications when she had me so she could never have any more kids, and it was always kind of lonely by myself. We didn’t live in a neighborhood, so I didn’t really get to have friends until school, and I had a few really great ones but I was always a little . . . awkward.”
Gregg knew that Ryan had a hard time talking to people outside of her job, and it always puzzled him. She had been a little nervous during her interview with him when she responded to his help-wanted ad, but she warmed up quickly. Of course, they had been talking about photography, which Ryan was very passionate about, but after that he hadn’t had any trouble having a conversation with her. In fact, she was actually really funny and could give as good as she got.
This wasn’t the first time Ryan had brought up her awkwardness, and for some reason, the thought that she couldn’t see herself the way he did bothered him. To him she was funny, sweet, and easy to talk to. Their constant banter was one of the things he looked forward to most days.
He leaned over her shoulder and whispered, “Well I don’t know if it counts for anything, but I think that you have definitely grown out of your awkward stage.”
She looked up at him. “You really don’t think I’m awkward?”
He stared down at her, drowning in her eyes. “Not at all.”
She swallowed a little. “Gregg, we’re friends right?”
He cocked his head and gave her a small smile. “Of course.”
She twisted her hands in her lap. “And you’ll be honest with me?”
He sat on her desk and nodded. “Sure.”
She cleared her throat and whispered, “Do you think I’m sexy?”
He froze above her and his mind started searching for something to say.
She turned away from him quickly. “I’m sorry, please forget I said anything.”
He hadn’t liked the flash of hurt in her eyes, and blurted, “No! I mean, you just surprised me. I think you have a lot of really great qualities. You’re smart. You’re funny. You are really artistic. You’re attractive. You have a great work ethic. You’re a good person.” He paused and took in her blank expression. “Yes, you’re sexy.”
He could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t believe him, so he continued, “The trouble with sexy is people have different tastes. Some guys like girls in flashy, skimpy clothes with big hair and cowboy boots. Other guys think shy girls who are less obvious are more desirable. Some guys check out a woman’s body and others look at her face. It’s all about personal preference.”
“What kind of girls do you like?”
Was she kidding? He didn’t really have a type, unless you counted busty redheads with blue eyes who liked to wear a lot of wool, but he wasn’t about to say that. Besides accepting his kiss at New Year’s, Ryan had been nothing but professional, and a good friend. He wasn’t going to jeopardize that by opening his big fat mouth. “I like girls who are confident. They need to be funny and like the same things I do—”
She interrupted him. “Yeah, but that’s not what makes you approach her, right? Are you a leg man or a breast man?”
“What?” He couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped.
“It’s a simple question. Does a girl who walks into a bar wearing a miniskirt get you going or a low-cut top?”
This conversation was leading into some very dangerous areas, but he answered her anyway. “Low-cut top.”
She blushed at his quick reply, and at that moment he’d have given more than a penny to get a real good look at those thoughts.
CODI GARY has been an obsessive bookworm for twenty years and dreamed of writing romances since her first Sweet Valley High book. She writes best with a white mocha in one hand and the sound of female country singers in her ears. She lives in Idaho with her family.
You can find her online at www.codigarysbooks.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/CodiGarysBooks.
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“The Trouble With Sexy” in
Kiss Me:
An Avon Books Valentine’s Day Anthology
Give in to your impulses . . .
Read on for a sneak peek at four brand-new
e-book original tales of romance from Avon Books.
Available now wherever e-books are sold.
By Kerrelyn Sparks
A
T
RUST
N
O
O
NE
N
OVEL
By Dixie Lee Brown
A
D
IAMONDS AND
D
UGOUTS
N
OVEL
By Jennifer Seasons
By Katharine Ashe
An Excerpt from
by Kerrelyn Sparks
New York Times
bestselling author Kerrelyn Sparks returns to romance during the Revolutionary War with the sequel to her debut historical novel,
The Forbidden Lady
.
M
atthias gazed up the lattice to his balcony. As youngsters, he and his cousin had used the lattice to sneak out at night and go fishing. Of course the doors had not been bolted back then, but climbing down the lattice had seemed more exciting.
Matthias wasn’t sure the lattice would hold his weight now, but with Dottie’s restorative coursing through him, he felt eager to give it a jolly good try. Halfway up, a thin board cracked beneath his shoe. He shifted his weight and found another foothold. The last thing he wanted was to slip and tear Dottie’s stitches from his shoulder.
He swung his legs over the balcony railing and landed with a soft thud.
How odd
. His door was open.
Of course,
he reminded himself. Dottie had gone there to fetch his clothes. She must have opened the door to air out the room.
He slipped inside. Moonlight filtered into the room, glimmering off the white mosquito netting. He strolled over to the secretaire, then kicked off his shoes and dropped his breeches. When he draped the breeches on the back of the chair, he noticed something was already there, something thick. He ran his fingers over the folds of cotton. The scent of roses drifted up to his nose. His mother’s perfume. Why would she have left one of her gowns in his room?
Odd.
He pulled off his stockings. He’d talk to his mother in the morning. For now, he simply wanted to sink into a mattress and forget about the war.
He unwrapped his neck cloth, then removed his shirt and undergarments. How could he forget the war when he had so much to do? Ferryboats to burn. Supplies to capture. He untied the bow from his hair and dropped the thin leather thong on the desk. And those two missing females.
Where the hell could they be?
He strode to the bed and slipped under the netting. With a sigh of contentment, he stretched out between the clean cotton sheets.
The bed shifted.
He blinked, staring at the ghostly netting overhead. He hadn’t budged an inch. There was only one explanation.
Slowly, he turned his head and peered into the darkness beside him. The counterpane appeared lumpy, as if— He listened carefully. Yes, soft breathing.
He sat up. A soft moan emanated from the form beside him. Female. His heart started to pound, his body reacting instinctively. Good God, it had been too long since he . . .
What the hell?
He drew his racing libido to a screeching halt. This had to be another one of his mother’s plots to force him to marry! Even Dottie was in on it. She had insisted he bathe and go to the Great House. Then they had locked up the house, so he would be forced to climb the lattice to his bedchamber. Straight into their trap.
He scrambled out of bed, batting at the mosquito netting that still covered him.
The female gasped and sat up. “Who’s there?”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered. His mother’s scheme had worked perfectly. He was alone and naked with whomever she had chosen for his bride.
Another gasp, and a rustling of sheets. The woman climbed out of bed. Damn! She would run straight to her witnesses to inform them that he’d bedded her.
“No!” He leapt across the bed and grabbed her. “You’re not getting away.” He hauled her squirming body back onto the bed. Her sudden intake of air warned him of her intent to scream.
He cupped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t.”
She clamped down with her teeth.
“Ow!” He ripped his hand from her mouth.
She slapped at his shoulders.
He winced as she pounded on his injury. “Enough.” He seized her by the wrists and pinned her arms down. “No screaming. And no biting. Do you understand?”
Her breaths sounded quick and frightened.
He settled on top of her, applying just enough pressure to keep her from escaping. “I know what you’re after. You think to trap me in wedlock so easily?”
“What?
”
He could hardly see her pale face in the dark. His damp hair fell forward, further obstructing his view as he leaned closer. The scent of her soap surrounded him. Magnolia blossoms. His favorite, and Dottie knew it. This was a full-fledged conspiracy. “I assume you brought witnesses with you?”
“Witnesses?”
“Of course. Why would you want me in your bed if there were no one to see it?”
“My God, you’re perverse.”
“You’re hoping I am, aren’t you?” He stroked the inside of her wrist. “You’re hoping I’ll be tempted by your soft skin.”
She shook her head and wiggled beneath him.
He gulped. She was definitely not wearing a corset beneath her shift. “You think I cannot resist a beautiful, womanly form?” Damn, but she
was
hard to resist.
“Get off of me,” she hissed.
“I beg your pardon? That’s hardly the language of a seductress. Didn’t they coach you better than that?”
“Damn you, release me.”
He chuckled. “You’re supposed to coo in my ear, not curse me. Come now, let me hear your pretty little speech. Tell me how much you want me. Tell me how you’re burning to make love to me.”
“I’d rather burn in hell, you demented buffoon.”
He paused, wondering for the first time whether he had misinterpreted the situation. “You’re . . . not here to seduce me?”
“Of course not. Why would I have any interest in a demented buffoon?”
He gritted his teeth. “Then who are you and why are you in this bed?”
“I was in bed to sleep, which would be obvious if you weren’t such a demented—”
“Enough! Who are you?”
She paused.
“Is the question too difficult?”
She huffed. “I . . . I’m Agatha Ludlow.”
An Excerpt from
A
T
RUST
N
O
O
NE
N
OVEL
by Dixie Lee Brown
Dixie Lee Brown continues her heart-racing
Trust No One
series with a sexy veteran determined to protect an innocent woman on the run.
“O
kay—now that I’ve got your attention, let me tell you about my day.” Walker resumed his pacing. “I’ve been up since four-thirty this morning. I’ve saved your neck three times so far today, and for my trouble I’ve been cracked on the skull, threatened by a bear, and nearly drowned. We’re through doing it your way.” He stopped and pinned her with a warning glance. “I realize you’re confused and you’ve got no idea who I am, but there’s only one thing you need to know. I’m taking you out of here with me, and I don’t care if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. Are we clear?”
She watched him without saying a word, looking anything but resigned to her fate.
Walker stared back, daring her to defy him.
She never even flinched.
“If you were me, what would you do?” Her strong, clear voice challenged him, while her eyes flashed with fire.
“If I were you, I’d find someone I could trust and stick with him until this is over.”
“And that’s you, I suppose? How do I know I can trust you?”
He made a show of looking around. “You don’t have a lot of options at the moment, but, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one trying to keep you alive.” He reached for her elbow and pulled her to her feet. The cool breeze through his wet clothes chilled him, and he worried about her. Even with her arms wrapped around herself, just beneath her breasts, she still shook. No sense putting this off. She wasn’t magically going to start trusting him in the next few minutes, and they had to get moving.
He held up his jacket in front of her and took a deep breath. “Get out of those wet clothes and put this coat on.”
Her eyes widened in alarm and she stared at him, resting her hands on her hips in a stance that would have made him smile if she hadn’t been so serious. He held her gaze, expecting her to tell him to go to hell. He couldn’t afford to give on this issue, so he kept talking. “We’ll head back to higher ground, start a fire, and get our clothes dried out. I have to warm you up, and this is the only way I know to do it. We don’t have time to argue about this.”
