withering glance and told her hormones to take a hike. Her wandering eyeballs gave him a quick once over. Jeez, he was beautiful. Damn it, she needed a cold shower.
“You like her even though she says whatever pops into her head? Even though her whisper is more like a shout?” Melanie asked. Those two traits of Nana’s had particularly irked Todd.
“Far as I’m concerned those are two of her best qualities. Especially the shouting whisper.” He grinned and shot her a wink. “She thinks I’m a real honey and have great legs.”
Okay, time out. As if his smile wasn’t enough to melt knees, a man who looked like him should not be allowed to wink. Ever. Jeez. There oughtta be a law.
"So, do you want to observe while I look at your car," Chris asked, "or are you going to whip up some dessert?"
“Dessert? We just ate breakfast!"
"I meant for the cookout."
She stared at him. "What cookout?"
He stared back at her. "The cookout at my mother's house. Today. At two o'clock."
She shook her head. "I'm drawing a blank. Am I supposed to know about this?"
He r reached out and laid his hand on her forehead. "Hmmm. No fever, but your short-term memory is shot."
Melanie stepped back from his far too distracting touch. No fever? Coulda fooled her. She felt like she was melting from the inside out. "Refresh my memory."
"My proposition. I fix your car, and you come with me to the family cookout. I need a date so my mother doesn't try to fix me up with every single woman within a fifty-mile radius." He paused. "And we need to bring dessert."
Melanie cocked a brow at him. "Wow. What a romantic invitation. Be still my heart."
A devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes. He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed his mouth over the backs of her fingers. "You want romance?”
"Yes. I mean No! I mean stop kissing my hand." She tried to snatch her hand away, but he held on, his eyes glittering with unmistakable mischief.
"Nana seemed to like the idea," he said. "She can't wait to go."
"Nana?" Melanie croaked. "My Nana? When did she agree to this?"
Chris shook his head. "It's terrible h ow the heat affects some people. I told you in the foyer. Before breakfast. Nana and I discussed the plans while we were eating. Where were you?"
"I was, er, preoccupied, I guess." With convincing myself I don’t like you . Yeah. And imagining him naked.
"Well, you seem lucid now. So what do you say?" He dipped his head and lo oked up at her with a beseeching expression no breathing woman could possibly be immune to. Including her. "C'mon. Nana already said yes. And you'd really be doing me a favor."
" Favor? Well, guess I owe you one. Probably two, if you're the scorekeeping sort."
He ran his index finger down the bridge of her nose, skittering a shiver of delight down her spine. "I'm the scorekeeping sort, and you owe me three.”
"Three? How do you figure that?"
"One for blocking in my car, one for my ruined suit, and one for jump-starting your car. That's three."
"I gave you chicken, so you're down to two."
"I gave you a ride home. Three."
"I invited you in for breakfast. Two."
"I brought Boston cream doughnuts. Three."
"Oh, all right Three. Sheesh. You sound more like a lawyer than an accountant .”
He shot her a woebegone look that reminded Melanie of a sad puppy.
"Hey!" she protested, suppressing a grin. "Quit looking at me like that. I bet you practice that look in front of the mirror. No fair."
"I'm desperate. My mother wants to fix me up with some woman who has two heads, breathes fire, and could eat me in one gulp." He chucked her under her chin. "Come on," he coaxed. "It'll be fun. And you'll get your car fixed for your trouble."
Melanie narrowed her eyes. "If, and I do mean if I save your sorry butt from the 'dragon lady,' then you have to call us even on the favor thing."
"You drive a hard bargain, Mel Gibson."
"Damn straight. And I have to be home early. I need to gather some papers for an appointment tomorrow
“You like her even though she says whatever pops into her head? Even though her whisper is more like a shout?” Melanie asked. Those two traits of Nana’s had particularly irked Todd.
“Far as I’m concerned those are two of her best qualities. Especially the shouting whisper.” He grinned and shot her a wink. “She thinks I’m a real honey and have great legs.”
Okay, time out. As if his smile wasn’t enough to melt knees, a man who looked like him should not be allowed to wink. Ever. Jeez. There oughtta be a law.
"So, do you want to observe while I look at your car," Chris asked, "or are you going to whip up some dessert?"
“Dessert? We just ate breakfast!"
"I meant for the cookout."
She stared at him. "What cookout?"
He stared back at her. "The cookout at my mother's house. Today. At two o'clock."
She shook her head. "I'm drawing a blank. Am I supposed to know about this?"
He r reached out and laid his hand on her forehead. "Hmmm. No fever, but your short-term memory is shot."
Melanie stepped back from his far too distracting touch. No fever? Coulda fooled her. She felt like she was melting from the inside out. "Refresh my memory."
"My proposition. I fix your car, and you come with me to the family cookout. I need a date so my mother doesn't try to fix me up with every single woman within a fifty-mile radius." He paused. "And we need to bring dessert."
Melanie cocked a brow at him. "Wow. What a romantic invitation. Be still my heart."
A devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes. He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed his mouth over the backs of her fingers. "You want romance?”
"Yes. I mean No! I mean stop kissing my hand." She tried to snatch her hand away, but he held on, his eyes glittering with unmistakable mischief.
"Nana seemed to like the idea," he said. "She can't wait to go."
"Nana?" Melanie croaked. "My Nana? When did she agree to this?"
Chris shook his head. "It's terrible h ow the heat affects some people. I told you in the foyer. Before breakfast. Nana and I discussed the plans while we were eating. Where were you?"
"I was, er, preoccupied, I guess." With convincing myself I don’t like you . Yeah. And imagining him naked.
"Well, you seem lucid now. So what do you say?" He dipped his head and lo oked up at her with a beseeching expression no breathing woman could possibly be immune to. Including her. "C'mon. Nana already said yes. And you'd really be doing me a favor."
" Favor? Well, guess I owe you one. Probably two, if you're the scorekeeping sort."
He ran his index finger down the bridge of her nose, skittering a shiver of delight down her spine. "I'm the scorekeeping sort, and you owe me three.”
"Three? How do you figure that?"
"One for blocking in my car, one for my ruined suit, and one for jump-starting your car. That's three."
"I gave you chicken, so you're down to two."
"I gave you a ride home. Three."
"I invited you in for breakfast. Two."
"I brought Boston cream doughnuts. Three."
"Oh, all right Three. Sheesh. You sound more like a lawyer than an accountant .”
He shot her a woebegone look that reminded Melanie of a sad puppy.
"Hey!" she protested, suppressing a grin. "Quit looking at me like that. I bet you practice that look in front of the mirror. No fair."
"I'm desperate. My mother wants to fix me up with some woman who has two heads, breathes fire, and could eat me in one gulp." He chucked her under her chin. "Come on," he coaxed. "It'll be fun. And you'll get your car fixed for your trouble."
Melanie narrowed her eyes. "If, and I do mean if I save your sorry butt from the 'dragon lady,' then you have to call us even on the favor thing."
"You drive a hard bargain, Mel Gibson."
"Damn straight. And I have to be home early. I need to gather some papers for an appointment tomorrow
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