Bad Boy (Invertary 5)
“You went there.” Abby hung her head. “You just had to do it.”
“So tell me.” Jena nudged her with her hip. “How does he kiss? I bet it’s good. I imagine dirty and forceful. Am I right? You can tell me.”
“Jena Donaldson, are you perving over your cousin-in-law?”
“Yeah, that does sound a little twisted.” She smiled wickedly. “It was good, though, huh?”
“He makes me lose my mind,” Abby confessed, her cheeks heating at the memory. “I melt. I can’t think. I get desperate. It’s like I’m being set on fire from inside.”
“Wow.” Jena heaved an exaggerated sigh.
Abby snapped herself back to the present. “But this isn’t the time to lose my mind. I need all of my faculties to deal with mother’s latest plan.”
“I get it, but you still deserve a little time for you. Some time to get your mind blown—even if it is with Flynn.” Her smile let Abby know she understood the appeal. “How are things with Victoria? Are you coping? If you bring her by the hardware store, we’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Please, don’t! Everywhere we go, someone feels the need to tell Victoria how virtuous I am. In the bakery this morning, Morag McKay said she was so impressed with me that she wouldn’t mind having me as a member of her morality society.”
Jena barked out a laugh. “Do all the members have to get poodle perms and wear polyester coats? Because if they do, say no.”
“You’re wicked.”
“I know.” Jena grinned widely. “But how are you really?”
“Don’t worry. I’m coping. I came up with a new way to deal with the stress.”
Sympathy wafted off Jena. “Denial? I hate to tell you, honey, but that method is tried and true.”
“Not denial, organisation. I scheduled my worries into my planner. Today I’m scheduled to worry about getting the business off the ground. Tomorrow I’m going to worry about Victoria and Mother. The following day I’m going to worry about Katy starting school. And so on. See, it’s perfect. Each day is booked, the worry is spread out and there’s no danger of my head exploding.”
Jena slapped her palm against Abby’s forehead. “No fever. So it’s not that.” She frowned in concentration. “Are you hallucinating? Have you eaten something suspect recently? Dodgy mushrooms, maybe?”
“I’m not hallucinating. There’s nothing wrong with my brain. In fact, I’d say it was working brilliantly, seeing as I came up with an amazing plan to reduce stress.”
“Yeah, you scheduled it. That’s not normal, honey.”
“Like you can judge normal!” Abby grinned as she pointed at Jena’s purple sparkly platform sandals—or as Jena liked to call them, her work shoes. “You do DIY dressed like a stripper. Normal people don’t wear stripper shoes to plaster a wall.” Which Jena had been doing all morning.
Jena’s eyes sparkled. “As I keep telling Gordon, I’m bringing sexy back to DIY.”
As Abby listened to Jena talk about her latest renovation project, Abby’s eyes strayed back towards the loch. One week. She could push Flynn from her mind for one long week. How hard would it be to fight hormones? Women did it all the time. Right?
“Is it possible to die from sexual frustration?” she asked her best friend.
“No,” Jena said. “But I hear it makes women stupid.”
“Good to know.” Abby decided she’d worry about that particular problem the following Wednesday.
19
"I like the comfort of jeans, and the elegance of a suit. But above all, I love the sensuality and sexuality that emanates from leather. It multiplies one's sensations tenfold."
Emmanuel Petit, former French national player
How was it possible to crave a woman so badly after just a few kisses? Flynn suspected it was a case of reverse psychology. Ever since Abby had declared they couldn’t touch, all Flynn could think about was touching. Touching, tasting, teasing...aye, he was going crazy with the images inside his head.
He’d thought a swim in the freezing waters of the loch would help take his mind off Abby. Instead, all it achieved was to make his unused muscles ache. He’d pushed himself too hard, forgetting his body didn’t work the way it used to. And now he was paying for it. His leg felt like it was on fire, and it took all his effort not to strike out at anyone who crossed his path. After a lifetime having absolute confidence in his own body, the weakness he felt was humiliating. He hated the fact his body had let him down. Hated it wasn’t perfect. Hated it all.
He opened the cabinet above his kitchen sink and pulled out the medication he’d been given. It was a combination painkiller and muscle relaxant. He’d been loath to take it, but now he had no choice. It was take the pills or spend the rest of the day in bed suffering.