Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) by Lydia Michaels Page A

day.
    Mallory finished her wine and excused
herself to use the bathroom. She headed past the pool tables in the
back and turned down a dark, narrow hall and came up short.
    Erin stood, back to the wall and a smile on
her face, as the man from earlier braced his arm on the wall above
her head. There was no mistaking the intimate pose for anything
else. Mallory flushed and pivoted, going back the way she’d come
and nearly plowing into Finn as she turned the corner.
    “Whoa, Philly. No runnin’ in the bar. Did
you find the bathroom? That was fast.”
    “Finnegan,” she said, enunciating his name
louder than necessary. Hopefully Erin heard her and knocked off
whatever she was doing.
    He frowned. “You all right?”
    “Uh, yeah. That shot must’ve gone to my
head.”
    “’Excuse me.” She turned as the man who had
been practically groping Erin in the hall came out looking
innocent.
    “What’s up, Tim?” Finn said.
    The man, Tim, nodded. “Hey, Finn.” He kept
walking. Great. They know each other.
    Finn turned to her. “Did you see Erin in
there?”
    Lie or no lie? Thankfully she didn’t
have to answer. Erin came around the corner that very moment. She,
too, took on an air of innocence that quickly turned to disapproval
when she spotted Mallory. She had some nerve!
    Finn smiled and took her hand. Mallory had
to look away. She also had to pee since she never made it to the
bathroom. “I think I left something in the bathroom,” she mumbled
and fled.
    When she returned to the bar, the McCullough
clan had acquired a large, round table. Erin perched on Finn’s lap,
her posture and touch affectionate. Mallory turned away and saw a
woman she didn’t recognize.
    “Sit here,” Sheilagh called to her, and
Mallory settled in to a seat.
    Colin turned and his face lifted in
surprise. “Ms. Fenton. How are you?”
    The formality was awkward and she wondered
if it was in bad taste to drink with the man who’d hired her. “I’m
good. How are you?” She couldn’t bring herself to call him Mr.
McCullough.
    Sheilagh shoved him. “Don’t be all formal.
Mallory’s a friend.”
    Colin looked contrite. “I wasn’t being
formal. I was being polite.”
    “Whatever. I’m getting a drink. You want
another glass of wine, Philly?”
    She handed Sheilagh some cash and thanked
her. Colin scooted back. “Mallory, this is Sammy, my wife. She
teaches AP English at the high school.”
    Mallory extended her hand and said, “It’s
nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
    “All good I hope,” Sammy said. She was an
all-natural beauty with dusty lashes and freckles. “Don’t judge me.
Tonight’s my last night to let loose before I’m overwhelmed with
grading papers.”
    Mallory smiled. “Not judging. I plan on
doing the same, since I start a new job on Monday.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Finn watched Mallory chat with his sisters
and admired how easily she smiled and laughed. Erin was being
awfully lovey and he wasn’t sure what changed. Sometimes she was
like dealing with a bipolar patient off their meds.
    Her breath coasted over his ear, but it
didn’t have the same effect such affection normally did. On the
contrary, it annoyed him. Tonight was all about hanging out with
his siblings before Braydon left for school. He had the sense she
was trying to get him to leave early, which would turn into an
argument about him picking his family over her.
    “You smell extra good tonight,” she
whispered, her breath soft and warm on his neck.
    He shifted in his seat and gave her hip a
squeeze, not seeing the need to comment.
    She sat up, pressing her breasts into his
chest. “We should sneak out to your truck for a bit.”
    He frowned, pulling his gaze from Mallory
who was laughing heartily at something Braydon said. He looked down
at Erin. She never— never— made offers to screw around in
public places. It wasn’t her style. He, on the other hand, didn’t
have a style when it came to sex.
    “You’re in rare form