Real Marriage Material by Jodi O'Donnell

Author:Jodi O'Donnell [Jodi O'Donnell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459272804
Publisher: Harlequin

Chapter Seven

Streamers of violet pink and silver blue were streaking across the amber western sky by the time Jeb had maneuvered the boat into its slip. Mariah just tried to stay out of the way as Robin leapt to the dock and helped guide the boat in, obviously having performed that duty many times before.

Once she was safely on the dock again, Mariah found herself feeling even more superfluous as Jeb and Robin worked against the diminishing light to prepare the boat for tomorrow’s party of anglers.

She watched as he hosed out the live-well, crouching so that the muscles of his thighs were clearly molded against his damp jeans. As with her fascination with his chest earlier today, Mariah found herself mesmerized. She recalled how she’d been attracted to him the first day they met, when he’d looked much as he did now: disheveled, his hair wet and tousled and falling around his temples. A little dangerous, a bit wild. And a whole lot tempting.

A mockingbird made catcalls at her from the branch of a nearby cottonwood. Yes, as impressed as she was with his professional abilities, there were probably a few more of Jeb Albright’s talents she’d yet to learn to appreciate fully.

Blast her luck if Jeb didn’t glance up just then and catch her staring at him. But then, they had been making eyes at each other like this all afternoon. From the moment they’d met, really.

“I should be going,” she said not altogether steadily, folding the damp towel she’d worn around her shoulders. “Where would you like this?”

“Keep it for now. It’s better than nothing against the nip in the air.” His gaze dropped fleetingly to her pale green blouse which, she knew, wasn’t quite as transparent as it had been when dripping wet, but was still rather sheer.

Mariah hugged the folded towel to her chest. It didn’t offer quite the protection—or security—of her organizer. Or her pearls.

“You’re welcome to use the shower at the house,” he offered, standing and wiping his hands on the seat of his jeans, “if you were of a mind to clean up before heading out. I’d hate to see you get your car seats musty with lake water.”

The playfulness between them that had characterized the afternoon had vanished, and she wasn’t entirely easy with the tension that supplanted it. As if, once again, Jeb wanted something more than just to see to her safety or comfort.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll pass.” She tucked a rather damp lock of hair behind her ear and away from her face. “Besides, what good will cleaning up do me if I’ve nothing to change into?”

“There’s a box of clothes in the boat house,” Robin provided helpfully. “I bet I could find something you could wear. And then, I know—you could stay for supper, too!” she went on with a burst of enthusiasm. “Uncle Jeb’ll have your striper cleaned and filleted in no time, and I can show you how to make Wiley’s special marinade to cook it in.

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