"And just for that, I'll send a loaf of bread home with you guys too."

Chet groaned. "Man, I love your homemade bread. Don't suppose you've got any extra honey lying around?"

"Jesus, Chet," Remy said and smacked him in the back of the head. "Don't be such a f.u.c.kin' mooch."

"I'm not a mooch, a.s.shole. I was gonna buy it."

Remy dodged Chet's retaliatory swat.

"Boys. There's enough to go around. Let's head up to the house." She purposely didn't say my my house. house.

Gavin didn't appear until Chet and Remy were gone. He leaned against the porch support. "I see you take pity on poor bachelors and send them home with food."

She hadn't shaken off the disappointing news yet. "The bachelors I like, yes. Why? You jealous?"

"A little." Gavin started down the steps. "But since you feed me on occasion, I get the better deal, since I'm living with you and all. That seemed to interest them more than it should have." He stopped in front of her. "Is everything all right?"

The man had no concept of personal s.p.a.ce. She considered saying something flip, but a soft, "No," slipped out and she dropped her gaze to the empty basket still clutched in her hands.

He took the basket from her. When she looked up, he curled his hands around her arms, moving closer yet. "Rielle. What's going on?"

"West Construction can't start on my house until next spring."

"Because of the garage addition? Dammit, I told them I could wait if it would affect-"

"No, it has nothing to do with that."

A calculating look entered his eyes. "If you need-"

Lightning fast Rielle placed her fingers over his lips. "Don't you a.s.sume anything and offer me money or I swear to G.o.d I will scream or...do something equally horrible to you."

His lips curled into a smile and he lightly nipped her fingers before she pulled her hand away. "I like it when you get feisty. But if money isn't the issue, what is?"

"Time. If they can't get started until spring, then that means I'll have to move into the cabin because I'm sure you don't want me living with you and Sierra indefinitely."

The immediate fierceness in his eyes made it hard to breathe. "Now who's making a.s.sumptions?"

There wasn't any sign of mild-mannered Gavin. In fact, she'd begun to wonder if that easy-going man had just been a figment of her imagination-a pencil-pushing pushover she'd never be attracted to, therefore she could keep him at arm's length. But this Gavin? No pushover. All man. All the time. And her attraction to him kept getting stronger every day.

"Listen to me. You are not not staying in that cabin unless living with me is so heinous that you want to kill me in my sleep." staying in that cabin unless living with me is so heinous that you want to kill me in my sleep."

"It's not, I mean, you're not," she a.s.sured him.

"Good. So we'll stick to the original plan. Because I think it's been working great." He grinned. "So, pity a poor bachelor. What's for lunch?"

Rielle growled and smacked him playfully with the basket. "You're such a mooch."

But she made him lunch anyway.

Chapter Seven

Gavin strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a gla.s.s of iced tea. Then he peered over Rielle's shoulder, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

In the past few weeks he'd gone out of his way to pester her-not that she considered the attention of a smart, funny, s.e.xy man a ch.o.r.e. Gavin was interested in everything she did workwise and asked a million questions. So Rielle returned the favor whenever possible. Showing up in his office to chat. Since the man lived on the phone, she got to hear him acting all professional and business tyc.o.o.n-y. But he hadn't complained about her impromptu interruptions either.

"What're you doing?" he finally asked.

He stood so close the deep timbre of his voice vibrated against her skin and she fought a shiver. "Updating my notes on the new vegetable varieties I planted this year."

"Bad year for squash?"

"Which one? There are four genuses of squash: C maxima C maxima, C mixta C mixta, C moschata C moschata and and C pepo. C pepo."

"That's what I get for trying to be funny."

"Squash is no laughing matter. So what's up?"

"Have you ever done something under...duress and wished you hadn't?"

That was random. But typical for Gavin. She kept typing. "Like telling a stranger she can live in your house until spring?"

"Funny, Ree. But I'm serious."

"All right. What did you say under duress? And who'd you say it to?"

"Sierra. And I kinda, sorta, maybe promised...to buy her a car."

Rielle looked up from her laptop. "Are you kidding me?"

"Ah. No."

"And you're telling me this...why? Because you want the parent-to-parent lecture on not not rewarding your child's bad behavior? The girl gets herself arrested and you're buying her a car?" rewarding your child's bad behavior? The girl gets herself arrested and you're buying her a car?"

"Yeah." Gavin distractedly scrubbed his hands over the razor stubble on his face.

She squinted at him. He always bounded down in the morning dressed and clean shaven. It was afternoon and he looked like a b.u.m-a hot b.u.m, but nowhere near his usual put together self. "Gavin. Are you okay?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "This whole buying her a car business might seem sudden, but I had planned on buying her one in Arizona, I just hadn't told her. Then all that s.h.i.t happened with her arrest. So as we're driving across country, I'm encouraging her to talk to me, and she broke down completely. Crying about her mom leaving and how abandoned she felt, how stupid she felt that her new friends avoided her and her old friends dumped her, and berating herself for letting her grades drop. We were finally really talking about that long overdue emotional stuff...and it just slipped out."

"It just slipped out," she repeated slowly. "That you were buying her a car. While she was crying and carrying on about how much her life sucked?"

Gavin bristled. "In my defense, there isn't public transportation here, unless you count the one-way bus ride in the afternoon. It's not like I'm buying her a brand new car. It's used."

And he wondered why Sierra acted ent.i.tled? Rielle focused on the doc.u.ment on the computer screen and scrolled down to the next page.

"What? Aren't you talking to me now?"

"You don't need my input. She's your daughter. You can give her anything she wants." Literally, since the man was reportedly worth millions-if the conversations she'd heard recently in his office were any indication.

"So you think I'm making a mistake?" Gavin pressed.

"Why does it matter to you what I think?"

Gavin leaned across the counter, forcing her to focus on him. "Because your daughter is a well-adjusted adult, attending grad school on full scholarship. You are an excellent parent and I can learn from you. So help me out here."

"Laying it on a little thick today, aren't you?" she said wryly.

"I'm not joking. I need your input. I trust your judgment."

Good thing he hadn't flashed her that charming I-get-anything-I-want-because-I'm-a-McKay smile because she hated that type of male manipulation. "Fine. I'll give you my opinion, just this one time." Rielle sighed. "Let's backtrack. Before all that c.r.a.p happened this summer, were you teaching Sierra to drive?"

"We went out a few times. She learned to park at the mall. We mostly stayed on residential streets. I had her drive on the freeway once and it freaked her out."

"So she's never driven on a gravel road."

"No. Charlie has offered to teach her to drive after school and I've agreed because I know he'll be more patient. Plus, he has the time to spare."

"That's good because I doubt she had to deal with adverse road conditions in sunny Arizona. Maybe you should have Charlie give you you a few winter driving tips too." a few winter driving tips too."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Funny. But what's your advice?"

"Buy her the car. But park it in the driveway. That'll be an incentive for her to bring her grades up and stay out of trouble. Riding the bus is good for her socially. Plus, she'll have a better appreciation when she's allowed to drive the car on a regular basis."

Gavin studied her.

"What?"

"You're so d.a.m.n smart." He trailed his palm down the length of her bare arm. "Thank you."

A tingle started at her nape and traveled to her tailbone. She reacted to Gavin's unexpected casual affection instinctively, rubbing her fingertips over the dark growth on his cheek. "Ooh, look out. The tyc.o.o.n is going native. He's already forgetting to shave."

"Wrong. I'm out of razors. Since you were a smarta.s.s-" Gavin sc.r.a.ped his stubbled cheek up and down her arm until she shrieked, "-you'll just have to put up with my manly scruff today."

Oh yeah, I can think of a couple other places you can rub that manly scruff on me.

The way his eyes stayed locked on hers, she swore he'd read her mind.

"You could've asked to borrow one from me, roomie," she teased, "but I'm sure you're too manly manly to use a pink razor." to use a pink razor."

"Like h.e.l.l I am. Hand it over. You can watch me shave."

"Oh, right. I'm out of razors too. I haven't shaved my legs in a week." Not that she had a reason to.

"Really?" Gavin rotated her barstool and latched onto her ankle. "Let's compare, shall we?"

"What are you doing?"

"You felt my stubble; it's only fair I feel yours." His blue eyes held a wicked gleam as his palm slowly inched up the outside of her calf.

"This is..." Crazy, s.e.xy, hot Crazy, s.e.xy, hot. How long had it been since she'd been touched with such teasing s.e.xiness?

Forever. Maybe...never.

"See? I knew you were lying. Your skin is silky smooth."

Keep going. The hair gets a lot coa.r.s.er higher up.

His hand stopped at the hem of her skirt. Keeping his eyes on hers, his fingers caressed the skin above her knee. "No hair here."

A rush of desire had her so dizzy she feared she'd topple off the chair.

Gavin's hands followed the contour of her calf down to her ankle. Then he set her foot to the chair rung and stepped back, grinning widely. "Thanks for the advice." He wandered out of the kitchen, whistling.

That was weird. s.e.xy as h.e.l.l, but weird.

Of course Boone West was working with his uncles on a day her hair looked like total dogs.h.i.t. And she was wearing ratty sweats and no makeup. And she had cramps like a motherf.u.c.ker that no dosage of Midol could cut. So she was cranky. Even her dad had told her to get a grip on her c.r.a.p att.i.tude before he'd taken off with Ben. Uncle Ben. The thought of calling the intimidating Ben McKay Uncle Ben Uncle Ben made her snicker. made her snicker.

Then Boone wandered into view again and Sierra sighed. He wore a black wife beater that showed more muscles than she'd given him credit for. His skin glistened with sweat from lugging heavy tools and lumber. Watching him, she understood that Boone was no ordinary high school boy who would slowly morph into an adult male; he was already a man. A hunky, hard-working man and she had it bad for him, even when she knew there wasn't a s...o...b..ll's chance in the desert he'd ever look at her with l.u.s.t in his eyes.

Especially not today.

She tapped her fingers on the windowsill, considering her options. Stay inside and continue to spy on him from the big window? Then he wouldn't know she was having a bad everything day. Or should she casually wander outside and pretend to be shocked he was at her house?

So what's it gonna be, Sierra? Hide? Or seek?

When she saw his uncles' work truck heading up the driveway, leaving Boone all alone... Seek won out.

She resisted the urge to squeeze into a pair of skinny jeans and switch her sports bra for a push-up. Grabbing the half-full garbage bag from the kitchen, she sailed out the front door.

Sadie, Rielle's sweet German shepherd, trotted along beside her as Sierra strolled to the Dumpster. The hinges squeaked as she opened the metal lid and tossed the garbage in.

"You're not supposed to throw regular garbage in there, just building materials."

Sierra manufactured a surprised look before she wheeled around. Boone had crouched down to scratch Sadie's ears. Some guard dog; her tail was wagging furiously. "Oh. Hey, Boone. Sorry. I'll take it out."