Mr. Virile and the Girl Next Door by Gwen Hayes Page A

chest and pushed firmly. His face registered displeasure at stopping there, but stop he did, letting her up into a sitting position while he bent and hung his head between his knees and caught his breath. Or tried to.
    She held gaping material together with one hand. “I don’t understand what is going on here.”
    Dane groaned a sound of pure male frustration. “I’m like one of my worst clients, anymore. I used to be really good at this you know. You screwed me up somehow.”
    “I screwed you up?” Holly repeated. “You don’t make any sense. I’m still not even sure why you decided to go along with this idea to begin with. Or why you run hot and cold with me. It’s been almost two weeks since your basement.”
    “I’ve been trying to do this right. You said no sex until the seventh date, so I pulled back. I’ve actually sort of enjoyed slowing it down, except for the fact that when I’m not with you, all I can think about is when I’ll see you again. And that I’ve got the bluest balls in the county. But, really, I’ve been trying to relish the journey not just the destination. But it’s hard, literally. And I had the bright idea that if I popped by this morning I could call it date number six and I could seduce the hell out of you Friday night.” He tilted his head to look at her. “I can’t explain why the sight of you in the doorway made me crazy. I only know that I haven’t been this bad off since I was sixteen with a Princess Leia in a bikini poster on my wall.”
    “Wait, you’re trying to game the system? I said at least seven dates, Dane. There is no guarantee that you will ever get lucky, much less on date seven.”
    He huffed out a laugh. “Darlin’, you and I both know where this is headed. It will be my bed or yours, unless we don’t make it to a bed first. In which case, it will be my bed or yours after and again.”
    She didn’t like his macho, egotistical confidence. Except that he was right, which she disliked even more. “Whatever, this doesn’t count as a date.”
    “There’s romance and food,” he said, pointing to Boss inhaling what looked like a maple bars. “What else do you want, woman?”
    She leveled a look at him but realized he was kidding. He looked at odds with himself. Self-deprecating wasn’t really his style, but it was more than that. He really looked confused and miserable. Was there a chance he really was having feelings about her?
    She glanced back at Boss licking his chops. “Well, I do like doughnuts.”
    “They were maple bacon bars, too. Boss, you’re a bastard.”
    Holly couldn’t help it. The ridiculous situation finally caught up with her and she laughed. It was more the manic laugh of someone about to lose their shit, but it was laughter. Dane joined her and Boss stared at them, confused and full.
    “Should I be worried about your reaction to sheep?” she asked, getting up to pour coffee.
    “I can’t help it. They’re sexy as hell.”
    She brought him back a mug and he frowned.
    “What now?” she asked.
    “You know how I take my coffee,” he accused.
    “And that upsets you because…?”
    “Because, why would you even pay attention to how I take my coffee? We aren’t in a relationship, Holly. This is all pretend.” He slammed the mug down, sloshing coffee over the top. “I have to go.”
    She couldn’t do much more than blink at him. She had no idea what she’d done wrong. “Dane?”
    “Shit.” He stood, raking his hands through his hair.
    “What are you so afraid of? I mean, I know what I’m afraid of, but what’s your deal? I don’t have any designs on you, if that’s what you think. I’m not picking out China patterns. We’ve had coffee several times and I’ve seen you put sugar and cream into your cup. Not a big deal.”
    Dane paced. Then stopped. Then paced some more, his big body out of place in her small feminine space. When he finally stopped again, in front of her, he asked, “What are you afraid