When Somebody Loves You by Cindy Gerard

Author:Cindy Gerard [Gerard, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, General, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781451671780
Google: Hg3E56gcBcUC
Amazon: B007EE4WOK
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2013-07-01T00:38:38+00:00

Adam Dursky watched in considering silence as the girl—damned if he could think of her as anything more—drilled him with a look that could have blistered paint.

So this little green-eyed roughneck with a boy’s body and sassy red hair was John Taylor’s daughter.

He took a longer look, one she met with defiance, and hoped she was as tough as she wanted him to think she was. She needed to be tough. What he’d come to tell her wasn’t going to be easy to take, not by any man or woman’s standards.

He shifted his shoulders, feeling uncomfortably out of his element. Dark alleys and city streets were familiar territory. They ran in sync with the ugliness of hoods flashing switchblades, or strung-out junkies waving Saturday night specials. But here, with the clear air scented of pine and facing a fresh-scrubbed, wide-eyed kid . . . hell, it just didn’t match the dirty job at hand.

Before he saw it through, though, he had other needs to attend to. He had to get off his leg. It was burning like a blue bitch. He’d been lucky to hitch a ride from International Falls as far as the county road. But the two-mile hike from the main road to this backwoods lodge had been pushing it.

He stripped off his jacket. “Mind if I park on that bench for a minute?”

Her expression cooled a bit as she considered that, then she indicated with a negligent, one-shoulder shrug that he could suit himself.

Her attitude confirmed what he’d already suspected. She was a brat. That fact just might make his job easier to stomach.

Nothing, however, was going to make it easy to move. Bolts of fire ripped through his thigh as he stepped toward the cedar bench. He swallowed back the nausea that accompanied the pain. Clenching his teeth, he eased down.

When the worst had passed, he raised his head to see her working the devil out of the handle of an old pitcher pump. A jolt of heat shot through his lower body as he watched her trim little butt bounce to the rhythm of her pumping arm.

Whoa, he told himself, stung by his unexpected reaction. You’ve been on your feet too long, Dursky, if a tomboy like her can set your blood simmering.

Refusing to accept the unsettling sensation for what it was, he discounted it as another warning that he’d overdone it. He shook it off, only to be knocked off balance again by the concern in her eyes when she handed him a tin ladle.

The water felt good going down—almost as good as being off his feet. Wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist, he nodded his thanks and, for reasons he couldn’t explain, quickly looked away.

“He puts up a good bluff,” he said gruffly as the naturally friendly Lab curled up at his feet. “But he’ll never make it as a watchdog.”

When he met her eyes again, they had, thankfully, turned as cool as the water.

Leveling the same agitated look on him as she had the pup, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the pump.

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