“Buddug, stop it,” Mandy said, pushing the snorting
bulldog off her leg. It made another attempt to return to its humping post but she snarled. “Muir, you have
two seconds to get your dog off me before I turn it into glue.”
“Horses,” Michelle said from the sidelines. She dipped
the painted brush back into the scarlet-colored paint. Wrinkling her nose,
she stared at it. “Is there a reason you decided to go with something so…
so, red for your dining room?”
“I got tired of hearing you and Muir bitch about the
old color.” Mandy pointed at Michelle before she could get it out. “And, no.
I am not repainting the front bathroom. I happen to like lime green walls
with white woodwork. I only gave in here because you told me that it…”
“Looked like the chick from the Exorcist upchucked in
here?” Michelle grinned and a stray strand of wheat-colored hair fell into
her face. “Yeah, it was hard to digest my food with that on the walls. Since
I don’t cook and you do, it’s important I feel comfortable when eating
here.”
Mandy couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me again why I let
you talk me into coming to your cookout tonight?”
“Because you’re the one who bought me the grill and
since I’m a virgin at it, I’ll need you on standby in case I set my yard on
fire.”
Buddug went back to trying to hump Mandy’s leg and she
growled as she thought about giving it a shove across the room. One swift
kick in the fanny would no doubt teach it a lesson. “Off, now.”
“Don’t do it,” Michelle said, laughing softly.
“Don’t do what?”
Michelle snickered. “Don’t kick the dog.”
“Well, of all the things. I would never.” Mandy did her
best offended innocent routine and wagged her brows. “Okay, I might have
considered it. But, gawd, the thing keeps defiling my favorite shoes while
they’re still on me. I swear that I’m going to throw him in the car and take
him to get fixed.”
“Buddug,” Muir called, appearing in the archway to the
dining room. “You better hide. If Mandy gets the notion in her head to see
you be less of a man, I fear she will do it.”
Mandy laughed as she stared at Muir. Dressed in a black
tee-shirt, faded blue jeans and black boots, he looked as though he was
about to hop on his motorcycle. The fact that he had his long, jet black
hair pulled back at the base of his neck told her that he planned on
working.
He winked, drawing attention to his blue eyes. “I truly
hope you are not staring at me with thoughts of getting me fixed as well
dancing in that head of yours.”
Michelle laughed and made the sign for scissors with
her hand as she smiled at Muir. He cupped himself quickly. “If she thinks
she can get a deal by taking two of you in, she will.”
“I know,” Muir said, his smile wide. Glancing at the
red painted portion of the wall, he arched a black brow. “That is an
interesting color choice. Much better than the lime green.”
“Oy with the lime green already, people.” Mandy shook
her head and headed towards the kitchen. “Give me just a minute. I need to
mix up the salad I’m bringing with me tonight.”
“Salad?” Michelle asked, sounding slightly put off.
“Don’t you trust me to provide a good meal?”
Muir let out a choked laugh. “You can never have enough
salad.”
“Mmmhmm, what kind are you making, Mandy?”
She winked. “Country Pasta Salad. I figured since it
had pasta in it you’d forgive me for cooking, too.”
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Michelle
asked, glancing towards the coffee pot. “I don’t suppose I could do my cute
face and get you to make a new pot? I’d do it myself but you’re anal and
snap at me every time I enter your precious kitchen. Maybe Buddug senses how
territorial you are and feels a kinship with you.”
Snorting, Mandy shook her head as she headed towards
the refrigerator. She reached in and took the contents needed to mix the
salad out and balanced them carefully. “That must be it. Here I thought he
just had a thing for my shoes.”
“Let me help,” Muir said, appearing behind her in a
blink an eye.
Startled, Mandy tossed the salad ingredients upwards.
Muir winked and they all froze, suspended in mid-air. “Muir.”
Grinning, he moved his mouth over a black olive, taking
time to make the action incredibly erotic. As he swirled his tongue over it,
before claiming it fully with his lush mouth, Mandy could think of little
else than him repeating the very action in a southern direction.
“What are you thinking about?” Muir asked, no doubt
knowing exactly what was running through her mind.
Embarrassed to be caught daydreaming about having him
all to herself, Mandy felt her cheeks flare and her heart speed. “I’m
thinking about how I’m happy that the floor didn’t end up wearing what I
spent this morning making.”
Muir’s magik ran up and over her, brushing past her
nipples and making her gasp. He snickered as he made the ingredients mix in
mid-air before dropping them into the large bowl she’d set out on the
countertop earlier. “There. All done. Want me to use my power to paint your
dining room, too?”
“Yes,” Michelle called out.
Mandy narrowed her gaze on him. “No. And you promised
to stop using them all the time.”
“As I recall, Mandy,” Muir closed the distance between
them, “I promised to stop using mine all the time if you started to use
yours more.”
“And do what? Blow the salad up instead of catch it?”
She laughed. “I think the world is a safer place without me thinking I can
move mountains or mix salads magically.”
“I have to agree with her on this one, Muir.” Michelle
peeked around the corner. The tiniest bit of red paint streaked her
otherwise flawless cheek. “Remember when you tried to use a spell to keep
fleas off Buddug?”
As if on cue, the bulldog rolled over on its back and
played dead. Muir and Michelle burst into laughter. Mandy covered her eyes
and shook her head. “Oh, like I purposely tried to kill him. Wait, come to
think of it, he does like to hump my leg. Where is that spell again?”
Buddug rolled onto his stomach and practically fell
over himself rushing towards the backdoor. Michelle rolled her blue eyes.
“That’s just wrong. You know that, right?”
“Now, ask her if she cares.” Muir winked before taking
the paint brush from Michelle’s hand. “You, my dear, should be thinking
about that ever important question—what are you going to wear tonight?”
Her brow furrowed and Mandy had to bite back a laugh.
“What do you mean? I’m wearing jeans and my Green Sleeves tee-shirt.”
“Only you would have a shirt about a song from
centuries ago.”
Muir drew in his lower lip and did his best to look
innocent. Mandy gave him a droll look. “You have one, too? Why am I not
surprised?”
“Hey, someone want to tell me why I have to think about
what I’m wearing tonight?” Michelle asked, completely ignoring the fact that
she was being picked on. “Is the president showing up to my picnic or what?”
Muir gave Mandy a knowing look. She cleared her throat.
“Well, I might have forgotten to mention that I extended an invite to Conner
the other day. He seemed excited.”
Michelle’s jaw dropped. “You did what?”
“You already sent flyers out to the neighborhood. I
didn’t think you’d mind one more person being there. Besides, he’s a cutie
and it’s plain to see that he’s into you.”
Wiping her hand across her face nervously, Michelle
left another streak of red paint on her. “What am I going to wear? I can’t
see him in jeans and a tee shirt—again. Christ, I saw him naked. There is no
way I can face him in…”
“You saw him naked?” Mandy asked, suddenly very
interested in what her friend had to say.
Michelle blushed. “It was for a photo shoot.”
“Uh-huh, I’ve used that one before,” Mandy said,
laughing.
It was Muir’s turn to blush. “Yes, she has.”
“Oh, come on. I did not make up a photo shoot to the
get the man naked.”
“I wasn’t accusing you of being the one to invent the
need for pictures to be taken, Darling.” Mandy let a slow, lazy smile spread
over her face. “Come on, I’ll help you pick something out to wear.”
~*****~
Michelle pulled her hair back into a French twist and
instantly began fidgeting with her neck, rubbing it slightly. The black,
peasant skirt hung to her knees, fitting her hips just right and drawing
more attention than she wanted to her waistline. Mandy had spent the greater
portion of an hour trying to convince her that she looked beautiful and sexy
but she was sure that Mandy wasn’t wearing her contacts.
When Muir had walked in and was unable to form a
complete sentence, she assumed it was because he was doing his best not to
laugh at her. Mandy said it was because he was stunned that Michelle was a
woman under all of her pajama pants and loose fitting tee-shirts. The true
test would come when Conner arrived.
If he arrived, she reminded herself. He’s
probably off in some foreign country already, happy to be rid of me.
A soft rapping on her open bedroom door took her by
surprise. Turning, she found Conner standing there, his long white-blond
hair hung to his waist and for a moment, she could do nothing more than
stare at the way his hips moved as he walked—so fluid, so rhythmic. Did he
move that way in bed too?
Where the hell did that thought come from?
His grey eyes seemed to be soaking her in. Each place
they fixated on began to burn with a heat Michelle was sure was just her
imagination. For a moment, it felt as it Conner’s hands were moving over
body, skimming it, caressing it. She gasped and took a tiny step back.
“Umm, Conner, I’m glad you could make it.” It was lame
but all she had at the moment.
“Michelle, there was nothing that would keep me from
coming.” The emphasis he put on the last word made her wonder if was
talking about sex or showing up. Visions of clawing at bed sheets, thrusting
her head back while Conner took her from behind hit her hard. Her breath
caught and for a moment, she could do little more than stare helplessly at
him.
He was in her room, so close to her bed that it was
easy to picture what he’d look like in it. How many nights had she wondered
what it would be like to be held by him, touched, taken to new heights of
pleasure? How many nights had she chastised herself for those very thoughts?
Too many to count.
A small tug. A feeling that something was missing
started in her stomach but it was easy to squash, thrust down and ignore.
Her hardening nipples and eager body wasn’t so easy to push away. No. It
wanted to have a photo op with Conner on her bed, now.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked, his
voice, soft, almost purr-like.
She whimpered. “No.”
“Michelle, why the hell is your grill on fire?” Mandy
shouted, saving Michelle from herself. Whether or not that was a good thing
remained to be seen.
Pushing past Conner, she ran down the long hallway to
the staircase and crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t bite it on the way
down. “I’m coming!”
As she made her way out of the back door, she found
Mandy standing back, laughing as a gorgeous stranger got the grill fire
under control. The man coughed several times before glancing over his
shoulder. The first thing she noticed was his grayish-blue eyes. They were
close to Conner’s color but held a bit more blue.
The idea of finding two men in the world with bodies
and eyes exactly to her liking was a bit
much for her to swallow. Arching a brow, she glanced at Mandy, afraid that
her friend might have cast a spell to bring the perfect man into Michelle’s
life again.
The last time she’d tried that, Michelle had ended up
with six male kittens scratching at her back door. The stray half-way house
got old fast. Hopefully, Mandy didn’t pull another stunt like that.
The stranger locked gazes with her and for a moment,
she forgot how to function. The idea of drawing in air seemed foreign to her
yet she knew it was vital. Passing out wasn’t an option. Not unless the hunk
at the grill was willing to do mouth-to-mouth.
Mouth-to-mouth? Shit, I’m turning into Mandy. Next
thing I know, I’ll be wanting to take my picture with a group of hot firemen
who are showing off their poles.
She shuddered at the thought while the rest of her body
lit with the idea of the man before her being involved.
“I should have guessed,” the man said, his voice deep.
He hiked his navy blue sleeves up to his elbows and gave a cocksure smile
that Michelle instantly wanted to smack off his face. “Blondes and
flammables don’t mix.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“You said your friend couldn’t cook,” he said, glancing
towards Mandy. “You didn’t mention she was a hottie.”
A hottie? Was that supposed to impress her? Who the
hell did this guy think he was? “Okay, Fire Marshall Smartass, thanks for
all your help.”
He smiled wider, showing off a perfect set of teeth.
Running a hand through his spiked, brown hair, he drew attention to the
portions that were lightened to blond. He also managed to draw attention to
a set of six pack abs that made her mouth water. “Sweetness, all you had to
do to be allowed to stare at me was give a shout out. I live just down the
street from you. You didn’t have to go and burn perfectly good pieces of
meat.”
“I did not burn anything to…” Michelle stopped when she
noticed Mandy doing her best to keep from laughing. “Oh, he’s one of the
funny guys you’re always talking about, isn’t he?”
“He seems to think so,” Mandy said, making Michelle
laugh. “He has a name. He even told me it but I forgot.”
“Dmitri,” the stranger said, putting his hand out. “And
you are?”
Rolling her eyes, Michelle did her best not to flip him
off. “Going inside to call for pizza.”
“There’s no need for that. We can make this work.”
There was something about Dmitri’s voice that made her believe him. As silly
as fixing a grilling problem was, she wanted to believe he’d make it better.
Putting her faith in a cocky, smartass wasn’t something she was prone to
doing.
