Heck, her whole body quivered. Including parts of her that hadn’t quivered in years.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, and was mortified to hear her voice come out somewhat lower and huskier than normal.
His eyes—a silky brown—darkened, and for a flash of a second, his gaze darted down to her lips. Her body, acting of its own volition, responded by darting her tongue out and licking her lips.
It was like they were doing a dance, one with tiny, complex steps. The air sharpened between them, and she felt her head tip back. He responded by sucking in air, and she felt her body do the same thing. Two bodies moving in time together, creating a rhythm all their own.
It had been a long time since she’d danced. A long time since she’d wanted to dance.
And she wanted to dance with Billy Bolton, of all the wildly inappropriate people.
She had to get control of this situation before something terrible happened, like Billy pinning her to the wall, pressing all those muscles against her and kissing the heck out of her.
Yes. That would be terrible, indeed. Awful. Possibly the worst thing that could ever happen to her.
So why did she want so badly for him to do exactly that?
“Nothing you don’t want me to.”
And he stopped. No more steps toward her, no more hungry looks. No more dancing.
Jenny forced away all thoughts of her body moving in time with Billy’s. They didn’t go very far, just to the back of her mind, but far enough that she could think. “I will not have you threaten my son with such language.” Her voice was still sultry. “Nor will I have you putting on such an indecent display in front of the children.”
“Josey told me to go around the side of the school to get miked up so I wasn’t in front of the other kids. I didn’t know your classroom was there.” Almost imperceptibly, he leaned in. The distance between them felt so sharp she thought it might cut her.
She could see Josey doing that. She’d assumed he’d been acting like his brother Bobby—showing off, making a scene—but she could see him trying to do the right thing. Maybe. “You were threatening Seth.”
“With kicking him out of the shop if he doesn’t pull his weight. Are you going to feed me to the coyotes for that?”
He tilted his head and looked her over again. Anytime she wanted to stop quivering would be great.
“You moved my car.”
“You want me to move it back?” Then he flexed. It wasn’t an exaggerated thing, but his chest and arms tightened under the shirt, then released.
Jenny’s breath caught. Apparently, she’d lost her mind at some point in the past few minutes, because she wanted to tell him to do just that—but only if he took his shirt off.
“No.”
“How old are you?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “You can’t ask me that.”
Billy jerked his chin over his shoulder. “How old is he?”
Much more heat and she was going to start sweating. “That is none of your business!” And before she could stop herself, she asked, “How old are you?”
He didn’t even hesitate. Men. “Thirty-four.”
Five years older than she was.
“Mr. Bolton? I swept the floor.”
The sound of Seth’s voice snapped Jenny out of her man-induced insanity. “You what?”
“He swept up.” Billy swung around and surveyed the shop. “Not bad, kid.”
“He what?” Jenny looked at the now-clean shop floor. “Seth cleaned something? Because you threatened him?”
Billy looked back over his shoulder at her—only a quick glance, but Jenny felt the disapproval of his gaze. Then he walked around the shop, studying the floor. “Not bad at all,” he said to Seth, and Jenny couldn’t miss the way Seth’s face lit up at the compliment.
What the heck? She and Seth fought over chores all the time, but Billy Bolton had him looking happy to clean?
When had she lost all control over the situation?
Oh, yeah—the moment she’d gotten out of her car this morning.
“So, did I do a good enough job? Can I help you in the morning?”
Jenny shook her head, trying to remember the last time she’d seen Seth look this excited about something.
“Depends on what your mother says.”
That was the last thing she expected to come out of Billy’s mouth.
“What?” That was how many whats in the past five minutes? She was starting to sound clueless—a feeling she hated.
Billy motioned toward the far corner of the shop. “You signed a release for him to appear on the show, but if he’s going to be helping me out in the shop, he’ll be filmed the whole time.”
Jenny stepped forward and looked. She hadn’t noticed the small camera with the red light before, but she saw it now. “What’s that for?”
“They’ll film me the whole time I’m building, then speed up the footage. If the kid helps, he’ll be on film a lot more.” He leaned to the side, and Jenny realized that they were less than two feet apart. “It’s your call.” Then Billy turned to Seth, “You’ve got to pull your weight. I hear that you’re not helping your mom at home or your grades drop, you’re out of here. I don’t tolerate slackers.”
Seth’s gaze darted between her and Billy. Clearly, he was waiting for her to blow up like she had that morning. And she was still mad about the language Billy had used around her son.
The only thing was, she liked everything Billy had said.
She couldn’t believe that she was on the verge of agreeing to let Seth spend more time with Billy Bolton, but what could she do? Seth wasn’t a little boy anymore, and something told her that he’d be safer with Billy than he would be if he were running around with Tige or any of his thuggish friends.
Billy turned and looked at her, one eyebrow raised in silent challenge.
“Can I, Mom? Please?”
This was a rock, and Billy Bolton was a hard place. The way his chest had not moved when she pushed it? A very hard place.
“We’ll see how tomorrow goes.”
“Was that a yes?” Seth hopped from foot to foot, a ball of nervous energy. “That was a yes, right? Yes!”
“Hey,” Billy thundered. “Settle. Your mom told you to go get your things, so get moving.”
Seth was
