Back to Buckhorn. Lori Foster

      “No!” She held up a hand. “I got puked on.”

      Adam froze, then, as one, the two men turned to stare at Garrett.

      He let out a breath. “On the plane. Sick kid she helped care for.” He gestured. “Amber asked me to pick her up since she was dealing with that busted pipe.”

      They turned to look at Zoey again.

      “Garrett’s going to let me use his shower.”

      Eyes widening, their gazes shot right back to their cousin.

      Flustered, especially at how she’d blurted that, Zoey continued, “He’s been supernice, especially considering...” She gestured at herself. Unfortunately, the men were all downwind of her. It’d be best if she wrapped this up. “And Garrett, seriously, I appreciate it so much. I don’t know how I can thank you enough.”

      “Not a big deal.”

      “Of course it is.” Anxious to escape, she inched toward the back of his truck. “How about I take you to dinner sometime? It’s the least I could do, right?”

      Garrett shook his head. “No, that’s not necessary.”

      “I insist.” She bit her lip, saw that all three men noticed and quickly forced a smile. “I’ll just...” Turning, she strode to the truck bed to get her luggage.

      “I’ll get it,” Garrett said.

      “It’s okay.” The last thing she wanted to do was be more of a nuisance. She lifted the heaviest suitcase over the side of the truck bed. “I have it—” But in her haste, she lost her hold and the suitcase hit the ground.

      Then popped open.

      A bra and a two pair of underwear fell out.

      She snatched up the bra and one skimpy pair of panties with lightning speed, sticking both under the rest of the clothes.

      She was reaching for the other pair of panties when a big breeze rolled them over the driveway and up against Garrett’s shoes.

      “Ground,” she said with soft desperation, “swallow me whole, please.”

      Brows raised, Garrett picked up the sheer beige lacy scrap meant to dredge up pure male fantasies.

      After grabbing the closest top and shorts, she slammed the case closed and hurried to Garrett. Holding out a hand, hoping to brazen her way through the uncomfortable moment, she said, “Thank you.”

      Looking more than a little stymied, he handed the underwear to her.

      “Shower?” she prompted, hoping to get things going.

      “Sure.” He cleared his throat. To his cousins, he said, “You guys want to come in?”

      They started making quick excuses, as if they thought he was entertaining her. She shook her head. They surely knew better but probably hoped to put him on the spot for fun. She remembered well how they all liked to tease each other.

      “I’m just showering,” she explained with a wrinkled nose. “That’s all. No hanky-panky. I mean...look at me.”

      Shohn cocked a brow.

      Adam tried to check his amusement, but she saw his smile.

      “No, don’t look at me,” she corrected. Good God, the last thing she wanted right now was a closer scrutiny. “Look at him.” She pointed at Garrett. “Clearly you guys know he and I aren’t...well, you know. Right?”

      Garrett was as gorgeous now as he’d been when she’d left. Possibly more so. Out here in the bright sunshine, his black hair glinted with blue highlights. And his eyes... She sighed. Sinfully gorgeous, as light as a summer sky but twice as wicked, with those incredibly long, dark lashes...

      When she realized she was staring at him, and everyone else was staring at her, she demanded, “Make your cousins come in.”

      “You heard her.” Garrett gestured. “A storm’s rolling in. It’ll be best if she finishes up before that.”

      “I’ll hurry,” she promised again.

      As he unlocked the front door, Garrett said, “Soon as I get you settled, I’ll move your luggage into the cab behind the seat in case the rain starts.”

      “Thank you.”

      With Adam and Shohn staying several feet behind her—probably to avoid breathing her in—they stepped inside the house.

      Zoey stopped and stared. “Holy cow.”

      For the first time since they’d arrived at his place, Garrett seemed to relax. “Like it?”

      Head back, she looked around at the cove ceilings, then down at the high baseboards. “It’s incredible.” Everything looked vintage, but also shiny and new.

      He checked his watch, then said, “If you finish in enough time, I’ll show you around.”

      Oh, shoot. She was holding him up again. “Lead the way.”

      As he headed for the stairs, they passed a cozy living room on the left, an impressive study on the right. Straight ahead she could see a beautiful country kitchen. Everything looked quaint and original, but in really good shape.

      At the top of the stairs, immediately to her right, was the bathroom. Stopping at a closet he got out two big, fluffy white towels, a washcloth and a blow-dryer. “Shampoo, soap and all that is already in the shower.” In the all-white bathroom, he lowered the toilet lid and set everything on top of it.

      She could have guessed he’d be a neat freak. Men as controlled and contained as him wouldn’t appreciate clutter.

      Unfortunately, she was a messy, cluttered catastrophe.

      “So much character.”

      He did a double take.

      “The house, I mean.”

      He studied her as if he’d never seen a woman before. “I’ve always thought so.” He looked around. “There’s just something about an older building and all the extra detail put into it.”

      She nodded. The freestanding tub had a shower stand at one end, an oval curtain rod suspended from the ceiling. “It’s just...awesome.”

      “Pipes are old. Might take a minute for the water to get hot.”

      “I bought an older house too, but judging by the pictures I’ve seen, it’s nothing like this.”

      “Pictures?”

      “Your sister helped me pick it out.”

      “You bought it without seeing it?”

      She shrugged. “Yeah. I needed a place.” For herself—and her mother. Her house would need a year of work before she even got close to this perfection. “Maybe I can show it to you sometime.”

      Appearing curious, he said, “Sure.”

      Forgetting herself, Zoey put the clothes—panties on top—with the towels. The glossy subway tiles on the wall drew her fingertips. “This looks vintage, but can’t be. It’s in such great shape.”

      “I redid most of it using the same style. Salvaged what I could, but yeah, a lot is new.”

      Maybe she’d be able to get some pointers from him. About to ask him, she glanced his way and found him staring at her panties again. Taking one big step she put herself in front of the clothes. “Thanks again. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

      Still he stood there, watching her in a funny way.

      “I think I’ve got it from here.”

      His gaze went over her face, then he shook his head and started out. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

      *