Bringing Home the Bachelor. Sarah M. Anderson

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      Four

      Seth was up and dressed before Jenny’s alarm clock went off. He rushed her through her oatmeal. They arrived at the school a good twenty minutes earlier than normal.

      Billy was already there. Light shined through the shop’s open door, despite the chill of the October morning. “Bye” was all she heard as Seth threw the door open. Then he was gone.

      Jenny fought the urge to follow him. He wasn’t a baby anymore, she kept reminding herself. And she had no desire to see Billy Bolton first thing in the morning.

      Unfortunately, her mind took that image and threw some sheets and pillows into the mix, and suddenly, she had a great desire to see Billy first thing in the morning.

      Just because Billy was treating her son well and paying attention to her didn’t mean she should develop a crush on him. It didn’t matter if he had a melt-in-her-mouth smile, more muscles than God and money to burn. He was still a hard-core biker with a foul mouth. Heaven only knew what he did for a good time, but Jenny was willing to bet that it was something she would not approve of.

      So she went inside and reviewed her lesson plans. When she was done, she still had half an hour before the students showed up.

      She stood in front of her electric teakettle, at war with herself. Should she go out there and check on the shop? Or was that being too overbearing?

      Oh, to heck with it. Just because Billy had said all those things about promises in that serious manner didn’t mean he was honorable. Wanting to visit the shop had nothing to do with how he looked with or without his shirt on. Nothing at all.

      She made two cups of tea and walked out to the shop. For some reason, her stomach was turning. What the heck did she have to be nervous about?

      That question was answered the moment she set foot inside. Blinking through the bright lights, she saw that devastating smile on Billy’s face.

      Maybe she was dreaming, but if she didn’t know any better, she’d say that smile was for her.

      It wasn’t possible. Men didn’t look at her with interest—with need. Men looked at her shabby clothes and her rusty car and her smart-mouthed teenager and kept right on walking. If they looked at her at all.

      Except for yesterday. And, as Billy rose from his stool and made his way over to her, possibly also today. Seth hadn’t given her a lot of time to apply makeup this morning, which she barely wore anyway, but she was suddenly quite glad she’d managed to brush on a little blush and hit her lids with some eyeliner.

      “That for me?” Billy asked, looking down at the mugs in her hands.

      “Yes.”

      She offered a mug up to him. His hand was so large that there was no way to avoid touching him unless she threw the tea at him.

      So she had to stand there and not react as his fingertips skimmed over the backs of hers so lightly that she found herself shivering. The touch was much gentler than she would have given a man of his size credit for. Immediately, her mind took off in crazy directions, although she tried to slam the door on those thoughts. She was not lusting after, crushing on or, God forbid, even liking Billy Bolton.

      Then the mug was in his hand and the contact was over. They stood there for a second, looking at each other. Had he felt the same shock she had? Of course not, she tried to tell herself. She was being as silly as the girls in her TAPS meetings, falling head over heels because of a grin and a touch. She had one job here, and that was to make sure Seth was doing okay. No attraction, no flirting. Just mothering.

      “How’s it going?”

      Billy held her gaze for a beat longer. She could almost hear him reminding her they weren’t done here, but instead he said, “Got him sorting out fasteners. They got all mixed up when we unloaded.” He pointed with his chin to where Seth was sitting at a table, staring at a pile of nuts and bolts with a look of intense concentration on his face.

      “I can’t tell if this is a one-half or a nine-sixteenths.” Jenny could hear the frustration in Seth’s voice.

      “Here, let me see—”

      She had taken two steps when Billy grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place. He boomed, “Figure it out, kid. It ain’t rocket science. You can’t size a bolt, you can’t build a bike.”

      She froze, waiting for the fit Seth would pitch. It didn’t happen. Seth screwed up his face, scratched his head and then Jenny almost saw the lightbulb go on. He looked around, grabbed a wrench and started measuring.

      “Good job,” Billy said, and his hand squeezed Jenny’s shoulder. Not tight, just a gentle pressure. It sent shock waves down her back that almost buckled her knees. He was so strong, but the sensation straddled the line between tender and erotic.

      Then he let go, trailing his fingers down her arm. That—that was purely erotic. If she weren’t so determined not to let this man have an impact on her, her knees would have given way.

      “Thanks for the tea,” he said, low СКАЧАТЬ