The Simple Wild (Wild 1)

I try not to gape as I take in those mile-long legs clad in blue jeans and her long, golden-blonde tendrils of hair, damp from the rain and yet still falling around her shoulders in a natural sexy beach wave. She has lively teal-blue eyes surrounded by a fringe of lashes that are thick and long, but naturally so. Her nose is dainty, her lips are full, and while her cheekbones may not do much for her, the rounded shape of her face is flattering. I’d put her in her early thirties, with a fresh girl-next-door vibe. Not a stitch of makeup touches her face.

I remember wondering what kind of woman would interest Jonah. I feel like I just met her.

And friend or not, I’d bet money that he’s slept with her.

Dolores is scuttling back to her seat as Sharon ropes her arms around Marie’s neck. “Did you just land?”

“Uh . . . yeah. Rough flight.” Marie returns the hug, but she seems discombobulated, her attention flickering from Jonah to Sharon and then Jonah again, as if not sure where to focus. “Okay, first of all, wow, look at that belly! And it’s only been four weeks since I saw you last.”

“Only, you say.” Sharon groans, smoothing her hands over her midsection.

“And you.” Marie’s eyebrows arch halfway up her forehead as she comes around the desk. “What the hell, Jonah?”

He folds his arms around her, pulling her against him. She’s tall, but she looks petite pressed up against him like that. “What the hell, indeed,” he murmurs. “Hey, Marie.”

They break apart and she reaches up to smooth her long ­fingers—with bare, neatly trimmed nails—over his beard, in a way that screams intimacy. The way a woman might reach up to lazily stroke a man’s face in bed, after sex.

“I like it,” she murmurs.

I’m sure you do.

How many times have they done it, anyway?

Does Jonah like to play childish games with her, too? Did he corner her in a narrow hallway to steal a kiss that first time? Did he realize she’d be coming in today when he was busy making moves on me this morning? Will he be MIA for the next however many days, while she’s in town?

At least Jonah’s hands aren’t all over her. In fact he’s moved back to his casual leaning-on-desk position. His gaze drifts to me. “I was the victim of a cruel and vicious prank.”

I push aside my growing unease to roll my eyes dramatically for him.

He chuckles. “I probably deserved it.”

“Probably,” I echo, my voice laden with sarcasm.

Marie’s teal eyes do a curious but quick down-and-up scan of me.

“This is Wren’s daughter, Calla,” Jonah says. “She’s here, visiting.”

“I didn’t realize Wren had a daughter,” Marie says slowly. She offers a hand and a smile, though it’s not nearly as bright a smile as the one she flashed Jonah. “First time in Alaska?”

“Yeah.”

“I picked her up from Anchorage last weekend. It’s been . . . interesting, so far.” Jonah smiles secretively and, dammit, I’m blushing again.

Marie’s gaze darts back and forth between us, and there’s no way she’s as clueless as Mabel was. “So where are you in from?”

“Toronto.”

“Oh, that’s far.” She says it in an “oh, that’s too bad” way, emphasizing it with a pointed glance at Jonah. As if to make sure he realizes it. “And how long are you here for?”

“Another week.”

“Okay . . .” If I’m not mistaken, a sigh of satisfaction passes her lips. One more week and she’s away from Jonah for good.

“Unless I decide to stay longer,” I blurt out without thinking.

Jonah’s left eyebrow quirks.

I don’t know why I said that.