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He straightened and surveyed her. She tried not to picture what he must see—a clumsy giant of a woman. She remained in what she desperately hoped was a nonchalant, casual pose—a pose that proclaimed a kiss like that hadn’t rocked her world. That kisses like that happened to her all the time and she was used to them.
Ha! If kisses like that happened to her all the time she’d be...
A very satisfied woman.
You mean a nervous wreck.
‘I don’t want to give you the wrong signals, Jo.’
She turned her head to stare at him. Oh, right. Here it comes. Inside, she started to shrivel.
‘I’m not in the market for a fling. At twenty I thought such things could be uncomplicated, but I don’t believe that any more. And I’m not in the market for a relationship. My life is already too complicated. A relationship would be one complication too many.’ He swallowed and shuffled his feet. ‘I...uh...hope you’re okay with that.’
Men really were the most arrogant creatures. She straightened. ‘Well, it might surprise you to hear that I’m not in the market for a relationship either—and I can’t possibly imagine what gave you the idea that I was.’
He glared. ‘You decided you had room in your life for a dog. It seems only logical a boyfriend would be next.’
Her jaw dropped. She hauled it back into place. She opened her mouth, then with a shake of her head snapped it shut. She moved to the door instead. ‘I’m sure there’s cleaning I should be doing.’
‘So, we’re okay?’ Mac asked as she reached the door.
She folded her arms and turned. ‘I don’t know what we you’re referring to, but I can tell you one thing—if I were in the market for a boyfriend, Mac, it wouldn’t be with a man like you.’
His eyes practically bugged from his head. All his life he’d probably had women falling over themselves for him. She had no intention of being one of them.
‘This—’ she gestured to the view and their surroundings ‘—is beyond beautiful. It’s glorious. But you don’t even seem to notice it, let alone appreciate it. You hide from life.’ She’d had enough of hiding. ‘Life’s too short. I mean to live my life to the full and I’m not giving that up for any man.’
Not even for one as pretty as Mac.
‘Then what the hell are you doing out here?’
‘I’m having a breather—but I’m not hiding.’ She flung out an arm. ‘I relish that view every single moment I can. I’m learning to cook fancy French food. I’m adopting homeless dogs and driving fast cars. I suspect I’ve lived more in the last three days than you have in the last three months.’
He gaped at her.
There didn’t seem to be much more to say so she whirled into the house and didn’t stop until she came to the kitchen. And then she didn’t know what to do. She’d already cleaned it after making that reduction.
She put the jars of honey and peanut butter that still stood on the table back into the pantry. She slammed her hands to her hips. She’d left the plate of sandwiches on the veranda, along with their glasses. She didn’t feel like going back out there and facing him yet.
She could spout off all she liked about how she didn’t want a relationship and she didn’t do flings, but one look at the broad span of his shoulders and her blood surged, her thighs weakened and her resolve threatened to dissolve.
Almost against her will she tiptoed back down the hallway to the front door. She peered out through the screen door, but Mac was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh of relief she retrieved the dishes, spying Mac and Bandit halfway across the field leading down to the sand dunes and beach.
He moved with an unconscious grace and—
Argh! She stomped back into the house and then jumped when the hall phone—an ancient contraption—rang.
Russ, no doubt. She set the dishes on the floor and picked up the receiver. ‘Hello?’
A quick intake of breath greeted her. ‘Who are you?’
Jo blinked. Not Russ, then, but an angry female. It hadn’t occurred to her but, despite Mac’s protestations, was there some woman waiting for him in the wings? Some woman he was dangling until—?
She shook her head. She might only have known him for a few days but that seemed seriously unlikely.
She cleared her throat. ‘May I ask who’s speaking, please?’
‘This is Mrs Devlin.’
Jo rested back against the wall, her stomach twisting.
‘You may have heard of my son, Ethan Devlin?’
The apprentice burned in the accident.
Jo closed her eyes. ‘Yes, of course. I’m terribly sorry about what happened to your son, Mrs Devlin.’
