are you getting home in the morning?”
“Mass transit. How else?” she asked as if she thought a few of his synapses had malfunctioned.
“I’ll pick you up.”
“That’s not necessary.”
He ignored her disclaimer. He’d be there to pick her up and because she was a reasonable being, she would accept the ride. “What about dinner?”
Now, she looked confused. “What about it?”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I ate at the reception.”
“That was hours ago.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Now, if you are done grilling me on my eating and sleeping habits, I’ll go change. These shoes are killing me.”
His gaze skimmed down her legs to the sexy heels that were killing her feet. “My mama always said beauty comes with a price.”
“No doubt your mother would know.”
His eyes flicked back up to her face.
Her mouth was twisted wryly, her eyes teasing, and the look made him want to kiss her about ten times more than he had wanted to a second before. “Are you implying I got my good looks from my mama?”
“Did you?”
He grinned. “So you admit you think I’m good-looking?”
“Don’t be vain, and it’s impolite to answer a question with another question.”
“Did your mama tell you that?”
“No, my mother wasn’t one for wise bits of advice.” And her expression said she wasn’t going any further on that subject.
“So, you think I’m hot.”
“I did not say that.”
“You inferred it and in answer to your question, yes, my mother is a very beautiful woman. But, sugar, you clean up real nice yourself.”
“Meaning I look like a slob most of the time.” She sighed. “I know I do, but I just can’t make myself care about clothes and makeup and all that girlie stuff.”
“I didn’t say you looked like a slob.” But she was probably the sloppiest dresser he’d ever met, certainly the least put-together woman he’d ever wanted to bed. “Besides, like something else my mama used to say, beauty is as beauty does.”
“A lot of people never look beyond the surface.”
“You do.”
She shrugged. “Yes.”
“I do, too.”
“That’s nice to know,” but she sounded like she doubted his words.
If he argued about it, they’d probably end up kissing like they had at the reception and no way was he going there. “Go change.”
She saluted smartly. “Yes, sir. On my way, sir.” She turned and marched away, her delicious bottom swaying in a sexy rhythm.
He shook his head and went into the kitchen to make her something to eat in the car on the way to the nursing home. If she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, she’d need all the energy she could get.
True to her word, he’d barely finished the quick meal preparations before she was back and saying she was ready to go.
She’d put on a pair of faded jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin and sent his blood pressure into the danger zone. The tank top she wore under a short-sleeved blouse clung to her generous breasts and he could tell she’d put a bra on. He should be relieved…her braless state had given him a perpetual boner at the reception. But all he could think about was peeling away her clothes and cupping the now modestly contained, but no doubt soft and resilient, flesh.
Something must have shown on his face because her mouth parted on a small gasp and she stepped back, putting distance between them.
“I’m not going to jump you, though you do make a tempting picture.” She’d taken her hair down, as he expected, and it sprang around her head in a silky, curly mop he was dying to bury his fingers in.
She shook her head. “Did you have too much champagne at the reception? Maybe you shouldn’t be driving.”
“I had one glass and it was a long time ago. The only influence I’m under are my male hormones.”
“Has it been too long since you had sex?” she asked in the same tone of voice she’d use to query how many gigabytes he had on his hard drive.
No matter how prosaic she was about it, having her ask such a question sent those tormenting hormones into a tailspin, which eroded his temper. “My sex life is none of your business.”
She blushed, looking more than a little embarrassed. “No…of course it isn’t. I have a real tendency to say what’s on the top of my mind. Sorry. Forget I asked.”
He wished he could forget the answer, but he hadn’t had sex since the first time he fantasized about spreading Claire’s legs and plunging into the heated wetness he knew he’d find between them.
“Um…are you ready to go?” she asked after a few seconds of his glowering silence.
He was acting like a bad-tempered SOB. It was not her fault he wanted her. For crying out loud, it wasn’t even her fault he couldn’t have her. From the way she had responded to his kiss, he knew it wouldn’t take much to get her into his bed. It was his own blighted sense of honor that kept him from acting on his impulses.
She was his friend and he wasn’t decimating that friendship with a long, slow ride on the back of a hay wagon.
He forced his features into a more affable countenance. “Sure. I’m ready.” He grabbed the small bag he’d used to store her dinner and gestured for her to take it. “Eat this in the car.”
“What is that?”
“Your dinner. A sandwich, some carrots, nothing fancy,” he added when she looked confused.
“You made it? For me?”
“I may not be Wolf, but even I can throw together a sandwich.”
She shook her head as if to clear it and then took the bag from his hand. “Thank you. I…that was really thoughtful of you.”
He shrugged off her appreciation.
She didn’t say anything else, but grabbed her backpack on the way out the door.
They were driving and she’d eaten half of the sandwich when she spoke again. “You didn’t put any meat on it.”
“The point was to get
