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Authors: Elle Kennedy

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #Contemporary, #Fiction

Getting Hotter (24 page)

BOOK: Getting Hotter
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Take two. This time she used brute force.

Zero movement.

Holy Mother of God. Who had tightened those things? The Incredible Hulk?

She was by no means a weak woman. She was a dancer. She had solid muscle definition in her arms. But for the life of her, she couldn’t loosen a single one of those wheel lugs.

“Hi, Mom!” Jason called, poking his head out the open window.

A hysterical laughed bubbled in her throat. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Can I help?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got it under control.”

Ha. Yeah right.

She wiggled her arm, shook it around, trying to get herself jacked up. A deep breath, and then she tried again.

“Lefty loosey, righty tighty,” she muttered as she attempted to loosen a lug with all the strength she possessed.

No movement. Not even a freaking millimeter. And now her arm hurt. It actually hurt. Frustration sliced into her and she nearly whipped the stupid tool into the speed limit sign three yards away. She reined in the impulse at the last second, let out a strangled breath and decided it was time to come to grips with her own pathetic inadequacy.

“Jason, can you please pass me my phone?” Her voice was calmer than a fucking blue ocean.

Her son’s little hand popped out of the window.

Clenching her teeth, Miranda stood up and brushed pebbles off her leggings then took the phone from her son’s outstretched hand. After one very long moment of reluctance, she dialed Seth’s number.

“You’re still a modern, independent woman,” she assured herself.

But sometimes even modern, independent women were forced to admit defeat and call a man for help.

 

 

Seth was chuckling to himself during the entire drive into San Diego. He knew Miranda was probably stewing up a storm over the fact that she’d been forced to call him. He’d heard the irritation in her voice when she’d tersely explained the situation and asked him for help. Hell, he was surprised the words “help me” actually existed in that stubborn woman’s vocabulary.

He couldn’t wait to see her, though. He’d been busy this week, spending a couple of days in Nevada training with the team, and then last night he’d gone to Carson’s rather than the club. He’d promised Miranda that he wouldn’t hover over her at work anymore. Besides, he knew that if he’d gone there last night, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from nailing her in that employee break room.

Hopefully they could find some alone time later tonight. Maybe she’d sneak him into her place after the rugrats went to bed. It irked that he had to organize his sex life around two six-year-olds, but it was a price he was willing to pay to have Miranda in his bed.

He turned onto the street she’d indicated, immediately spotting her blue Ford on the side of the road. He pulled up behind it and hopped out of the Jeep, finding Miranda and the twins sitting on the curb.

“Somebody call roadside assistance?” he said mockingly.

Miranda scowled at him. “Wipe that grin of your face, Masterson. I’m not in the mood.”

“Mom has crazy eyes,” Sophie spoke up.

He laughed despite himself.

Both kids’ eyes widened in surprise.

Ignoring the resulting wave of discomfort, he focused on Miranda, who had crazy eyes indeed.

“I hate this,” she said dully. “If I could just manage to get those lugs off, I could totally change that tire.”

“Of course you could.” He wasn’t being sarcastic. He had absolute faith that Miranda Breslin could accomplish anything she set her sights on.

Seth rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down and appraised the tire. “No fixing that, I’m afraid. You’ll need to spring for a new one.”

“I know,” she said glumly.

“Tire iron?”

She handed it to him. He squatted down and tackled the first wheel lug. The amount of resistance he encountered made him grunt, but he managed to loosen the lug.

“Jesus, these
are
tight,” he admitted as he went to work on the next one.

Miranda’s voice rang with triumph. “Ha! I knew it wasn’t just me. They’re insanely tight, right?”

“Or maybe you’re insanely weak,” he teased.

“My mom’s not weak!” Jason fiercely protested.

Seth rolled his eyes. “That was a joke, kid.”

“Oh.”

He finished up and reached for the jack, but Miranda gave him that stubborn head shake he’d grown accustomed to. “I want to do it,” she announced. “That way I’ll be prepared if I ever get another flat. Talk me through it?”

When she looked at him with those earnest hazel eyes, he couldn’t deny her a damn thing.

He spent the next fifteen minutes talking her through the rest of the process, enjoying the way she bit her lip in concentration and the little fist pumps she did every time she successfully completed a task. When the spare tire successfully made it on the car, Seth and the twins broke out in applause.

Miranda took a bow before wagging a finger at her children. “I told you I could do it. Now get in the car and buckle up. We still have a pizza place to go to.”

“Is Sef gonna come?” Jason’s jubilant expression revealed precisely how he felt about
that
possibility

“He’s not gonna come,” Sophie told her brother. “You know he won’t.”

Maybe it was the alpha male in him, but Seth didn’t take kindly to challenges, and that little girl’s eyes? Chock full of challenge.

“I could go for some pizza,” he said smugly. “That is, if it’s all right with your mom.”

Miranda looked as shocked as her children. “Uh, sure, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Great.” He picked up the punctured tire. “Let me just throw this in the trunk. Like I said, I don’t think you’ll be able to patch it up, but your mechanic might say something different.”

She helped her kids into the backseat, then followed him to the trunk. With the trunk door up, neither child could see them through the back windshield, and Seth took full advantage of that.

His mouth was on Miranda’s before she could blink. Tongue sliding into her mouth, hands cupping her firm ass, pelvis rocking into hers. Oh sweet Jesus. He rubbed his aching erection in the cradle of her thighs, desperate to be inside her.

She whimpered. Clutched the front of his shirt with both hands as she hungrily kissed him back. His head was spinning by the time their mouths broke free.

There was a smudge of motor oil on her cheek, which made him smile. “You’ve got oil on your face,” he said gruffly.

Moistening the pad of his thumb with his tongue, he wiped the dark spot away, then ran his fingers over the tiny freckles that looked so out of place against the backdrop of her olive-tinted skin.

“Thanks,” she murmured when his hand dropped from her face.

“You’re welcome.” His mouth tingled with the urge to kiss her again. So he did. Pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat, enjoying the way she shivered. “I missed you, babe.”

“I missed you too.” Her tone was a tad reluctant, as if making the admission was difficult.

He kissed her again, the sweet minty taste of her setting his blood on fire. He wanted to take her right here, right now, against the back of the damn car. He was seriously debating whether they could pull it off when a loud “Mo-om!” wafted from the open window.

Miranda flew out of his embrace, nearly banging her head against the trunk. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed as she looked at him. “Pizza,” she said firmly. “We’re going for pizza.”

“And later?”

Wicked promise flashed across her face. “Later I put the kids to bed and you and I have ourselves some dessert.”

 

 

Ten minutes later, he wanted to kick himself for rising to Sophie’s bait and agreeing to have dinner with the Breslin clan.

The restaurant was one of those family-type joints with red-and-white checkered tablecloths and huge vinyl booths. It was jam-packed with families. So many families that the noise level was on par with that wave of machine guns the team had encountered in the desert last year.

But he ordered himself to make the best of it. If he could survive a crazy Middle Eastern gunfight, surely he could survive dinner in the restaurant equivalent of hell.

“We usually get a large pepperoni for the three of us,” Miranda said after the waitress came by with their drinks. “But we’ll definitely need to order two today. What do you like on your pizza?”

Seth reached for his plastic cup of Coke. “I usually load up on the veggies.”

“Veggies?” Jason gawked at him. “Gross!”

“See, I told you vegetables are yummy,” Miranda said. “Even Seth agrees with me.”

Suspicion flickered in the little boy’s brown eyes. “You really think they’re yummy?”

Seth nodded and tried not to smile.

Jason didn’t respond after that, but he grew very quiet, as if Seth’s revelation had completely blown his mind. When the waitress returned to take their orders, Jason was the first to speak.

“Two pizzas with
veggies
,” he announced.

The waitress laughed. “What kind of veggies, little man?”

Perplexed, Jason turned to Miranda, who seemed to be fighting back laughter. “How about green peppers, mushrooms and tomatoes?” she said graciously.

Jason mulled it over, then turned to his sister, who nodded. “’Kay,” the boy told the waitress. “What my mom said.”

After the waitress left, Miranda offered Seth a wry look. “Clearly I need to bring you along more often. I’ve never seen either of them so enthusiastic about vegetables before.”

His chest tightened in discomfort. Christ. Miranda’s son wouldn’t quit staring at him. He felt like a specimen under a microscope, even more so when Sophie also turned that brown-eyed gaze on him. With him and Miranda sitting on one side of the booth, and the twins on the other, there was at least some distance between him and the kidlets. But those stares were burning a hole in him. And the restaurant only seemed to get louder. Childish shrieks and giggles mingled with scolding parents and “stop that!” and shrill wails.

A throb was actually beginning to form in his temples. Which spoke volumes about the noise levels, because he’d grown up in
Vegas
, the noisiest place on earth.

For the next ten minutes, he did his best to make small talk with both Miranda and the kids. When the waitress finally slid two pizza dishes on the table, Seth was overcome with relief, eagerly shoveling food in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk anymore.

Christ. This was
not
his scene. He wasn’t cut out for all this domestic stuff.

To make matters worse, the quieter and more aloof he became, the more eager Miranda’s son was to engage him. There was no denying that Jason was a cute kid. Smart, funny, sweet. But Seth didn’t want to bond with him. He’d only end up hurting the boy in the end, and that was the last thing he wanted.

So better to keep his distance. Draw a clear line in the sand and pray that Jason didn’t cross it. At least he didn’t have to worry about Sophie. The pigtailed imp had decided ages ago that she didn’t like him, and she seemed content to stick with her original impression of him.

“You okay?”

He lifted his head and found Miranda’s concerned eyes on him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You got really quiet all of a sudden.”

“Just thinking, that’s all.”

“Mom,” Sophie piped up. “Can me and Jase have quarters for the gumball machine?”

Miranda glanced at her children’s empty plates and gave a pleased nod. “Sure, but only one gumball each, okay?” She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.

After the kids dashed off toward the bright red candy machine across the room, she turned back to Seth. “You didn’t have to come, you know,” she said quietly.

His voice was gruff. “I know.”

“So why did you?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

Evidently that wasn’t the answer she’d hoped for, because a wrinkle appeared in her forehead and she seemed to be chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Their waitress approached to collect their plates, sparing Seth from having to elaborate.

“You folks need anything else?” the curly-haired server asked with a smile.

“Just the bill, please,” Miranda replied.

“No problem.” The young woman took a step away, then stopped and looked from Seth to Miranda. “By the way, you have lovely children.” Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial pitch. “Much better behaved than a lot of the other kids that come in here.”

Miranda grinned. “You know, the twins have only ever thrown one tantrum in public.”

“I find that surprising.”

“It’s true. We were at McDonald’s when they had their meltdown. I threatened to throw their Happy Meal toys in the garbage, they kept screaming, and I proved that I don’t make idle threats. To this day, they haven’t acted out in public again.”

The waitress burst out laughing. “Good for you.” With another smile, she glanced at Seth. “That’s one tough broad you’ve got there. And your kids are adorable.”

BOOK: Getting Hotter
10.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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