Muffin Top (Page 24)

“Thank God.” He sat the bowl back down on its low pedestal.

Really, it was a pretty brilliant way to end the scavenger hunt. The final item, programs from the class’s graduation, were hidden in different spots around the park. Each of those spots could only be found following a path illuminated by the sun through the hole in the bowl at a certain point in time. He marked off the time 4:10 p.m. on the clue sheet left by the concrete bowl so others trying later in the week would know that the program hidden in that location had been claimed. So far only one other time had been marked off the list. Not bad odds for placing high in the competition.

For her part, Lucy was marching north in accordance with the written directions for the last clue on the scavenger hunt.

“Ten, eleven, twelve,” she counted out loud with each step forward. “Thirteen.”

That brought her to a rose bush with about a million red blooms. Frankie watched as she pondered the situation, too distracted by how the breeze toyed with the hem of her bright blue skirt and showed off a couple of more inches of sexy, thick thighs to think about where someone could have hidden the program. Lucy obviously wasn’t as distracted, because it took all of ten seconds of concentration before she bent down and retrieved a rolled-up graduation program from a box hidden underneath the rose bush.

She held it up above her head, using both hands as if the piece of paper was as heavy as the fifty-pound concrete bird bath bowl. “Victory!”

“Good thing you’re not competitive.” He strode over to where she stood in the shade of the trees bordering the walking path and the rose bushes.

She gave him a cocky grin and fanned herself with the program. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

“Now, that’s a long list,” he said, stopping next to her in the shade so there was only an arm’s length of space between them.

She turned to face him, tossing her long brown hair over one shoulder and rolling her eyes at him. “Henrietta’s not around to hear you.”

“Doesn’t make the truth any less so.”

And it didn’t.

Without considering if it was a good idea, he stepped in so close that if there’d been any sun shining through the thick tree branches it would have had to fight to get between them. The urge to touch the silky strands of her hair hit him hard enough that he had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from doing it.

The woman was pretty damn amazing—not that he needed to confirm that, but yeah, thinking that had him checking her out using his peripheral vision. It was a mistake, but what a sweet one to make. What she did to that shirt tucked into her swirly skirt was fucking phenomenal.

“Frankie Hartigan,” she said, shaking her head and letting out a soft chuckle. “You can’t breathe without flirting.”

“Good thing you’re so much fun to flirt with.”

“That’s not what most people say,” she said with a sigh and sank back against a tree trunk, some of that gleeful, smart-ass attitude of hers dimming in her eyes.

Pivoting until he stood face-to-face with her, still not touching her no matter how much he wanted to—and damn did he want to—he needed to set the record straight. “Then you spend too much time around assholes.”

“No argument there.” Her agreement came out breathy, and her cheeks had taken on a pink tinge.

“Present company excluded.” He meant it as a light little tease, but it came out too rough for that because it was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to put his hands on her generous hips, which were the perfect size for his big hands, and kiss her until she forgot all those other men and could only think of him.

“Of course.” She looked up at him from beneath her long eyelashes and let out a shaky breath. “We should go.”

“Why?” Leaving was the last thing he wanted. Lucy Kavanagh was a woman who needed kissing and more—God knew he was more than man enough for the job.

He was playing with fire. Good thing he had years of the best training for being around flames without getting burned. Still, considering that the kiss he was millimeters from delivering was only the beginning of all he wanted to do with Lucy Kavanagh, he could feel the flames licking his fingers.

They were close but not nearly close enough. Somewhere way in the back of his head he heard the warning not to follow his dick, but the rush of attraction was much louder. Yes. Shannon and the other women of Waterbury were right about him, and he didn’t have the strength right now to deny the truth of it. He just wanted to give in with Lucy.

Seemingly as caught in the moment as he was, she didn’t make a move to put any space between them. “You know why.”

He did, and he was a giant fucking dumbass for even coming up with the idea of going cold turkey on sex and then spending a week with Lucy Kavanagh. He’d been a jackass to think this would be a week free of temptation. The woman was temptation personified, from her red mouth to her whiplash-inducing curves to her ball-busting sense of humor. He was in so much trouble—and he fucking loved it.

Still…she was right. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t get the big head straight before he got his dick involved it’d be an epic-level disaster. Of course, knowing that didn’t make pulling away any easier.

But he did, one achingly slow millimeter at a time, before he could give in to the electric draw between them. Gone was the scent of her wrapping around him, the warmth that came from being so near her, and the tangible sense of anticipation that always hit when he was within touching distance. He fucking hated it.

Man, was he screwed—and not in the way he normally was.

“I guess we should go turn in the scavenger hunt items,” he said instead of begging her to come with him to a secluded spot along the trail where he could drop to his knees and explore everything that was underneath that skirt of hers.

Lucy—the woman who had a comment for just about everything—only nodded.

They stared at each other for another moment heavy with promise, then she slipped past him and started heading back toward the high school. It was a short walk, and Constance was walking out as they were walking in.

“Back already?” She pressed one hand to her chest in mock concern. The woman really was a piece of work. “I totally understand. It was really hard this year. It took Dave and me forever to find everything, and for a second I even thought we were going to have to go back and finish up tomorrow, but of course that didn’t happen. We just turned ours in. We were the first.”

“Looks like we’ll have to settle for second place,” he said. “At least for this event.”

There was a beat of silence in which he could have sworn he heard Lucy’s mental answer of “fuck yes” because she was thinking it so hard. Then he held up the bag with all of the loot they’d collected.

Constance let out a little “huh” that almost sounded like respect. “Congratulations.” Then she sashayed off toward a bright blue BMW.

“Thanks,” Lucy said, watching the other woman drive off and wondering if maybe she’d misjudged her. “I was close to doing all the things I tell my clients not to do.”

He laughed. “No worries. Come on, let’s go claim second place and then plot how we’re going to do that hag in over cheeseburgers. I’m starving.”

“Only if I get to shower first.”