Getting Lucky (8 page)

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Authors: Erin Nicholas

BOOK: Getting Lucky
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“No. Just very, very intuitive,” she said, fighting a smile.

“You read auras and stuff?” What he thought of
auras and stuff
was very clear in his tone.

She smiled fully at that. She wondered what he knew about auras. “Not exactly.”

“But kind of?”

No, not really. But for some reason, the whole aura-and-stuff thing made TJ uncomfortable too, and she had a sudden flash of awareness that TJ worked really hard to keep his boat from being rocked.

Being rocked might be really good for him.

She nodded. “Kind of.” She was perceptive. That was a little like seeing auras.

He sighed again. “Look, you should know that I have a very low tolerance for crazy.”

She tipped her head to the side, completely and totally intrigued. “Wow, sounds like there are all kinds of very interesting issues I’d love to know more about.”

“I’m a grumpy asshole,” he said. “That’s all you need to know. You don’t want to be naked with me.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

Heat flashed in his eyes. Definite, singe-her-where-she-stood heat. And then it was gone.

“No.” That was his only response.

She couldn’t help her smile. “Being a grumpy asshole is a choice, not who you really are, you know.”

He frowned and tossed her shirt at her. Not
to
her. Definitely
at
her. “Put that on. Now.”

And it became suddenly crystal clear. A woman had wrapped him tightly around her finger and then broken his heart.

Dammit. Why did someone have to have hurt him? The wounded thing got to her, no question.

Hope dropped the shirt to the dock at her feet. “You can swear, you can frown, you can be demanding and grumpy, you can even yell, TJ Bennett. But I still trust you.”

This time he didn’t look away. TJ’s gaze raked over her from the top of her head to the bright-pink nail polish on her toes. He touched on every part that was already tingling and wanting to get closer to him, but he lingered on her tattoo and then returned to it again after he’d taken stock of everything else. Hope was breathing harder and her heart was pounding by the time he was done.

“Okay, I’ve looked,” he finally said, his gaze meeting hers. “Now get dressed.”

He was very self-disciplined. Hope respected that even as she was
this
close to begging him to now touch her with his hands the way he had with his eyes. She pulled in a deep breath.

“TJ, I—”

A gust of wind blew across the dock and picked her shirt up, sliding it over the wooden planks. She started to grab for it—just as it went over the edge.

Well, crap.

Chapter Three

Hope moved to look over the end of the dock. Her blouse floated in the water about four feet below where she stood.

“Hold that thought,” she said to TJ as she prepared to go for a swim.

But as she was about to jump, she felt TJ grab the back of her skirt.

She looked over her shoulder. “Hey.”

“You’re just going to jump in?”

She looked back to the water. “Are there things I should be worried about in the water?”

“No. But you didn’t know that until right now.” He pulled her back from the edge and let go of her. He grabbed a big stick and got down onto his stomach, leaned over the edge, stretched with the stick and snagged her shirt. He pulled the soggy top onto the wooden slats beside him and then pushed back to his feet. And he did it all one-armed.

Wow.

“See?” she said, looking up at him. “A protector. There you go, saving me and fixing things.”

“And see?” he returned. “There you go, just jumping in without any thought to consequences and
needing
someone to fix things.”

She smiled up at him. “The benefit of growing up with a mother who thought of everything as a life lesson is that I haven’t needed someone to fix anything for me for a long time. I’ve been helping myself since I was a kid.”

He looked at her for a moment without reply. “You need to cover up.”

He grabbed the back of his shirt with one hand and pulled it over his head. Wincing as he did it, he pulled his good arm out of the sleeve and then wiggled the shirt under his shoulder sling and down his injured arm. When it was free, he handed it to her. “Put that on.”

She couldn’t.

She suddenly couldn’t remember how to do anything but stare.

Clothed, he was big and wide and hard. Without a shirt on, he was…the thing she most wanted to touch—and rub against and lick—in the world. His skin was tanned from the sun and clearly working shirtless more often than not. There was no farmer’s tan on this guy. His left shoulder, the one in the sling, had an elaborate tattoo—an ornate letter B. He also had four tiny incisions dotted around and in that B. He had dark hair sprinkled over his massive chest and deliciously defined shoulders, pecs and abs. And once her gaze focused on his lower abs and the V that formed there and dove into the waistband of his jeans, she could not pull her eyes away.

Holy crap.

If her nipples and heart rate hadn’t responded to him before now, there wasn’t an inch of her body that she wasn’t incredibly aware of with TJ Bennett standing in front of her half-naked.

She also had the strangest urge to see his back. She knew the muscles would be equally impressive there, and she needed a new study of his fine ass. With her hands.

Was she objectifying him because he was showing more skin? Damn right she was.

And enjoying every second of it.

“Hope.”

His firm, deep voice pulled her gaze to his face briefly. He was watching her with heat in his eyes and a tightness to his features that seemed like restraint. Restraint that was about two seconds away from snapping.

“Put the shirt on.”

She was all for
him
staying shirtless, so she complied. Plus, she suddenly wanted the shirt that was still warm from his body and smelled like him on her.

As the T-shirt settled over her, the neck gaping, the sleeves hitting her at the elbows and the hem at mid-thigh, she took a deep breath and rubbed her hands over the sleeves, sliding the soft cotton against her skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said.

He knew that she was getting turned-on just wearing his T-shirt? “You do?”

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?”

“From realizing that you’re insinuating yourself into everything.”

He was so suspicious, and she
so
wanted to know why. And know everything else about him. “What am I insinuating myself into?” Because if he knew she was thinking about his bed, he was maybe a bit intuitive himself.

“My front yard,” he said. “Tiny as it is, your car and camper are taking up space. You’ve already met my dad and gotten him worked up, and now you’re on my dock. Half-naked. And willing to be more naked.” He paused and gave her a firm look. “And willing to jump into God knows what.”

She didn’t think he was talking about the pond.

He was afraid of her getting too involved in his life. He was pushing her away as quickly as possible. He was attracted and fighting it.

So
intriguing.

“And you think all of that is intentional? That I’m trying to somehow become important to you?”

He just lifted an eyebrow.

“Why do you think that?” she asked, seriously curious. She wasn’t offended by his assumptions. Clearly, someone had done a number on him.

“You’re saying it’s all a happy coincidence that you’re here right now, in this spot, suddenly attracted to me and so content on the dock on my pond?”

“You don’t think I’m actually attracted to you?” she asked. Because
that
was ridiculous. She couldn’t fake this. And she
wouldn’t
fake it anyway.

“It’s convenient, don’t you think, that you’re
so
attracted to the man who you’re dependent on to get what you want, that you’re willing to undress and get dirty on the dock within hours of meeting him?”

Getting dirty with him did sound nice.

But there were some things to clear up first. She wanted to keep him talking. She couldn’t resist. “What I want? You mean meeting Dan?”

He gave one terse nod.

“I could quite easily find and meet Dan without you, TJ,” she said. “If I hadn’t ended up on your doorstep, it would have been your dad’s, and he would have told me everything he told us in your kitchen.”

“But you’re still here.”

“Because
you
asked me to wait to meet Dan until your dad figures out the best way.”

“And you’re fine with that because you found out that Dan might not be the guy you were hoping he would be.”

“Also because I’m a nice person, and I believe that you want to protect him and his family, and I trust you.”

“Also convenient that you’re so trusting.”

She crossed her arms. “What do you think I was hoping for with Dan?”

“Either a big happy welcome from the father you’ve never known, or…”

She raised her eyebrows. “Or?”

“Someone who can pay off your maxed-out credit cards or fix some legal problem for you or save you from whatever other trouble you’ve gotten into.”

Whoa. There was a whole lot of something going on inside that good-looking head. “Have you ever heard of the term projection?” she asked. “As in, you’re projecting
your
issues onto someone you just met and don’t know?”

He didn’t reply.

So she went on. “Obviously, there was a woman. Who somehow messed with you and manipulated you with sex,” she said.

His eyes narrowed. “Sex was one of the things she used.”

Hope was shocked that he’d admitted it that easily. “Wow, you don’t seem like the type to open up about something like that.”

“You could go have a muffin at the diner and they’d tell you all about it,” he said flatly. “It’s not a secret.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow, I really want to hear this story.”

“I don’t talk about it.”

“Then I’m suddenly in the mood for a muffin.”

The corner of his mouth curled up for just an instant. “The diner’s on Main. Avoid the coffee.”

So there
was
a sense of humor there. That was encouraging.

“Listen,” he said. “You’re right.”

That was also shocking. “I am?”

“About me being a protector. In the past. But I’m over it.”

“No, you’re not.”

He sighed. “I’m trying to be over it.”

“And you’re going to practice being over it with me?”

“Definitely.” He said it quickly and firmly.

She felt her eyes widen. “That was pretty adamant.”

“Yes.”

That was also very adamant.

“Which must mean I intrigue you a little bit too,” she said, realizing it as she said it. She smiled.

He gave a short bark of laughter at that. “Of course you do. I’m very drawn to crazy.”

She frowned. “Crazy?” She wasn’t crazy, but that might not actually be the most important—or interesting—part of this conversation.

He nodded. “Definitely.”

“Why is that?”

“I wish I knew.”

She laughed softly, not so much at his words but at the legitimately perplexed look on his face.

“I don’t know all the issues that you’re dealing with,” he said. “And frankly, I don’t want to. I’m sorry about your mom. But this isn’t my circus…and you are not my monkey.

She tipped her head. “I’m not your
monkey
?”

“Nope. Your care and feeding is someone else’s problem.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. Asshole, remember?”

“And where’s that come from?”

“My ex-wife.”

Okay, she hadn’t been expecting
that
. “Wife?”


Ex
-wife.”

She just stared at him.

“Stop it.” He gave her a frown.

“I’m fascinated. I can’t help it.”

His frown deepened. “By what?”

“You.”

“No, you’re not.”

But she was. “I’m not crazy, by the way.”

“You’ve fixated on me within only a few hours of knowing me.”

“I am not fixated.” She was intrigued. She was attracted. She wanted to know every single one of his stories and quirks. But she wasn’t fixated. Exactly.

“You said fascinated,” he pointed out.

“That’s not the same thing.”

He shrugged. “Potato, potahto.”

“I’m
not
fixated.” That sounded so much…crazier than fascinated.

“You traveled over a thousand miles, alone, while grieving, to find a man to fill some gaps in your life. You’ve been thinking about him. Planning the moment you meet him. Listed your questions for him. Now you’ve found out that he might not be able to be who you need him to be. So you focus on the next guy who can help you and make you feel better and give you a place to belong.”

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