Becca tugged on the hem of her short robe and glanced up and down the street as if she thought to run out into the yard.
“Stay where you are. He’ll be fine. He’s got some thorns in his hide.” Wolf removed the tweezers stored in a slot in the knife and began extracting the offending needles. “We can’t have an awesome fella like you in pain now, can we?” He worked as quickly as he could. “One more, big guy, and then you’ll be fine.” The dog licked him several times. “Yeah, I like you too. Let’s keep what I’m about to do just between us, shall we?” He ran his fingers over the affected groin area, keeping his attentions on the dog’s reactions. “Looks like we got them all.”
“What in blue blazes are you doing to that dog? Are you performing some kind of ‘beasty-wildy’ on him?” Mrs. Minelli, his neighbor, punctured the air with her cane, her white eyebrows arched in question.
He fought the urge to laugh. “No, Mrs. Minelli. I was taking out thorns.”
She cocked her head to the side, her cataract-clouded eyes widened. “In his penis?”
Christ! “No, ma’am. I was just helping him.” He made a mental note to sterilize the tweezers later when he slipped them back into his Swiss knife.
Becca ran across the yard. “What’s going on?”
He turned to tell her about the thorns and stopped. His tongue all but rolled out onto the grass. The Florida sunlight had turned her robe nearly translucent. She had legs that went to her waist, or so they seemed, except for that red patch at their juncture. Evidently her auburn hair was her natural color. His gaze traveled upward to the dusty-pink nipples showcased by the rays of sunshine. All the blood rushed from his brain to his cock. Holy Mother of God.
Wolf couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Einstein trotted to his mistress and licked her knees and, for an instant, he thought of doing the same thing. Be cool, man.
Becca held her robe in place with one hand and grabbed her dog’s collar with her other. “How are you today, Mrs. Minelli?”
“I’m fine, but you’d better get back inside” The elderly woman pointed again with her cane. “That robe is so see-through, we can tell if your belly button is an innie or an outie.”
Becca glanced down and gasped. “Crap!” She spun and bolted for her door, taking Einstein with her.
“I’d watch myself if I were you. She’s not the kind a man diddles with. She’s a decent girl.” She nodded once and shuffled down the sidewalk toward her house.
Properly chastised, Wolf snatched the red lace item Einstein had dropped when he’d gotten hurt. It took a second or two of fingering it before he realized it was a thong. His gaze swept to Becca waiting on the porch. Her cheeks were nearly as red as the skimpy underwear. Most redheads’ skin mottled when they blushed, but not hers. On her, the even blush was appealing.
Once he stepped onto the porch, Becca sputtered in obvious embarrassment. “I…I was about to get in the shower when the doorbell rang.” Einstein leaned against her and she bent in an absent-minded gesture to pet him. Her robe gaped open and Wolf nearly swallowed his tongue at her high, firm breasts. “Thanks for getting him. He never runs off like that and he’s never shown any interest in my clothes.”
“Well, any male—two-legged or four—would be interested in this thong.”
She scowled again.
“Look, I just came over to apologize for flirting with you earlier. I didn’t mean a word of it.” He hooked fingers on both sides of the red lace and all but drooled at the delicate lingerie. “You can still come to my party tonight, though.”
She flinched as if she’d been slapped. Her eyes widened and then narrowed. Luscious lips formed a thin line. “I wouldn’t come to your damn party if you sent me an invitation engraved on a brick of gold.” She snatched her panties from his hands and slammed the door in his face.
What the hell? What did I do?
****
By seven o’clock, Becca had her shopping done, her house decorated for Christmas and two pans of banana nut bread in the oven. If she hadn’t spent so much time at her window, catching sneak peeks at Wolf’s guests ambling up the walk to his front door, she’d have been done much sooner.
The bone-thumping music vibrating through their adjoining wall announced the party was in full swing. A myriad voices, including a deep laugh she recognized as Wolf’s, seeped through the stud-and-plasterboard petition. No doubt they were all having a good time.
She could be, too, if she’d accepted his invitation, but attending his soirée would imply she was another female waiting in line for induction into his harem of conquests. Cold day in hell. Only he’d have to be interested first, wouldn’t he? If his earlier words were any indication, he wasn’t. Which was totally fine with her. Men were a one-way street to the junction of pain and heartache.
“Becca, are you there or did you fall asleep?” Brittany’s annoyed voice boomed from her cell phone. Her best friend had called to say how much she’d enjoyed today’s post on Becca’s blog.
“Sorry. I was watching two of Wolf’s male guests pull up. Each one is more muscular than the last.”
Brittany groaned in response.
“No, you can’t come over. Another one just arrived. That makes a total of six guys driving Harleys.”
Her best friend laughed. “Don’t tell me man-whore rides a hawg, too.”
“Oh, don’t you know it. Big, black and noisy. Chrome out the wah-zoo. Typical show-off bike for a jerk with an overrated opinion of himself.”
“Does he know you ride?”
“Don’t think so.” She turned away from the window. “My Kawasaki Ninja’s been in the shop for over a week. I’m picking it up Monday.” Her stomach growled. “Look, I’m going to hang up and order a pizza. Hope your cramps are better tomorrow.”
“Me too, girlfriend.” Brittany paused. “Becca?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you should reconsider and go to the party. Check out some of those good-looking guys. Maybe you could find one for each of us.”
“That Midol you took musta gone to your brain, girlfriend. I am not going to that party. The man’s an ass and I plan on staying far away from him. Night, babe.”
Becca went online to order a pizza and then sprawled on the sofa with a book. At the beginning of chapter two, the oven’s timer went off and she hurried to the kitchen, inhaling the aromas of nutmeg and cinnamon. She set the golden loaves on top of the stove—one for the Minellis two doors down and one for Brittany and her cramps. When her doorbell chimed, she glanced at her oven clock before hurrying into the foyer.
Einstein was at the door, barking. “Shush, now. Go get in your chair. It’s just our pizza.” He whined and jumped onto his recliner, crying his displeasure at not standing guard.
To her surprise, the blonde she’d seen this morning bringing a pan of goodies to man-whore
