A Date with the Other Side (Cuttersville #1)(17)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“While I put my pants on?” Boston ran his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back so it would stop dripping on his forehead. “Are you going to watch? Or are you embarrassed?”

Eyes snapped up and she snorted. “I’ve seen you in less than that, remember.”

He remembered. He just wished circumstances had been different. Like that she had been witnessing his penis willingly and with sexual appreciation, not gaping in horror at it like it was a car accident victim.

Given another chance to be seen naked by Shelby, he wanted to put his best face forward. He really wanted to toss off a suggestive comment now—that maybe she repeat the experience with better results—but it came to him again that Harriet had said she’d been pregnant with Danny Tucker’s child, and he stayed silent. He’d never come on to a mother before, and the idea wasn’t appealing now.

As he grabbed his pants back off the floor, Shelby leaned against the bathroom door and stuck her hands in the pockets of her olive green shorts. “Listen, Boston, I wanted to let you know something. Obviously I heard what Harriet said to you about me and Danny, and I wanted you to know she didn’t tell you everything. I don’t have a child. Two weeks after Danny and I got married, I had a miscarriage.”

Ouch. That made him feel like hell. He didn’t want her to have a kid, but he hadn’t meant for her to miscarry. And he hadn’t wanted her to share something so personal that obviously made her uncomfortable when he was just a passing interest, a guy renting her grandmother’s house. That was all he could be, since he was leaving in a few months.

But that didn’t stop him from reaching out, pants dropping back to the floor, and pulling her closer to him. “I’m so sorry, Shelby. You didn’t have to tell me that.”

She shrugged. “I felt like it made me sound like a bad mother, not mentioning having a child, and I didn’t want you to think that, or that I wasn’t responsible enough to take financial care of my child.”

Since the thought had crossed his mind, he wisely kept quiet. “So I guess everyone in town knew why you got married, huh? That must have been hard, especially being so young.”

Shelby blinked those soulful brown eyes at him and gently tried to pull her hand out of his. He didn’t let her.

“It didn’t matter, I guess. And I would have married Danny in a year or two anyway. Getting pregnant just sped things up. We’d been dating since I was fifteen.”

He didn’t know Shelby Tucker, and though he’d contemplated exploring a brief affair with her, he had never intended to get personal with her. But with Shelby a foot in front of him, smelling like summer flowers and looking soft and vulnerable, he couldn’t stay uninvolved.

“I can’t imagine losing a baby, Shelby. I’m not sure I’d ever get over something like that.”

“I don’t think I have,” she whispered.

Then his lips were moving toward her, and he anticipated the sweet taste of her mouth. All week she’d been rolling around in the back of his head, an unlikely and undeniable temptation, a curiosity that he had to investigate.

Now he was going to kiss her deeply and fully.

Until she jerked back away from him when the music on his radio cut off. Boston turned to the radio, wondering what the hell was the matter with it. Then the lights flickered on and off, on and off.

“I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen,” he said carefully, standing very still.

Shelby looked around the bathroom, hands airplaning out in front of her. “But it did! And I feel something cold, do you feel that?”

Oh, shit, he did, like a big wet fan was blowing on his stomach and he was suddenly reaching for the door, kicking it open with his foot. “Get the door so it doesn’t shut.”

Shelby gasped. “Oh, good gravy, I don’t want to get trapped in the bathroom with you!”

Boston managed to laugh, despite having to prop the door open with his back, his feet, and his hands, all still wearing nothing more than boxer shorts. “I can definitely think of better rooms to get trapped in with you.”

“Like what?” Shelby stepped over him into the hall. “The kitchen? We’d have food.”

“Or the bedroom,” he said, than decided the bizarre stress of the moment had been responsible for that leaving his mouth.

Which could also explain why Shelby grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly. “I agree, that would be better.”

He let her drag him into the hall, and they both watched in shock as the bathroom door slammed shut behind him.

The lock clicked into place.

Shelby put her hand on her heaving chest. “You know, this never happened before you showed up. Never saw a damn thing. Nothing. Not a cold spot, or a flicker of a light, or a vision or a single stinking creaking sound. And now I’m seeing all kinds of crazy things.”

Boston started toward his bedroom, wanting more clothes on before he either continued this discussion or his body got confused as to why he was half naked around Shelby and not acting on it. He also thought it might be a good idea to get the hell out of the White House for a little while.

“So, it’s my fault?”

“Yes! It has to be.” Her voice followed him, high-pitched, this side of hysterical.

“It’s just a coincidence.” Reaching in his dresser, he pulled out a pair of shorts that had been washed, ironed, and put away by Mary.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

He checked. Fear, no. Annoyed, sort of. Turned on, yes. “No, I’m not afraid.”

Then he realized Shelby was standing in the room with him. “Shelby, back up, get out of the . . .”

The door to his bedroom was rolling shut with no sound, but efficient speed, and there was no time to do anything but swear as it clicked in place. He knew as surely as his name was Boston Macnamara that they were stuck.

In his bedroom. Together. With no cell phone.

And sexual tension so thick they’d need Danny’s tractor to knock through it.

Chapter Six

Shelby tried the door, shaking the knob violently. “Did you do this, Boston? Are you psychic or something?”

She did not want to be stuck with Boston again, in his bedroom, of all places. Where that eyelet spread was conjuring up all kinds of memories.

Boston scratched his bare chest and stared at her. “No, I’m not psychic. I’m a wizard, like Harry Potter.”

Shelby licked her lips. It took her a full ten seconds to decide that he was kidding, which meant she needed to get a grip.