Bad Boy (Invertary 5)

Jean showed no sign of stopping. Abby held up her hand. “Wow, that’s a lot to think about. I’ll mull over those suggestions and get back to you.”

Just as Jean opened her mouth to protest, Flynn sauntered into the kitchen, with Katy at his side. “We’re hungry. What’re you doing?”

Abby tried not to notice how sexy he looked when he folded his arms, making his shoulders bulge. “We’re trying to come up with a name for my designer knitwear business.”

Flynn shrugged. “McKenzie Made—luxurious knits, Highland style.”

The women gaped at him as Flynn and Katy wandered into the kitchen area and started opening cupboards.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Shona said.

“I still think Get Your Knit Off is better,” Jean grumped.

A minute later Flynn and Katy walked past, arms full of snacks. “Do any teams have purple shirts?” Katy said.

“Kid. The colour of the shirt is the last thing you focus on.”

“Is there a purple team or not?”

They disappeared from sight.

“See.” Heather pointed after them. “That’s exactly what I mean. Flynn’s got a quick mind. My nephew isn’t an idiot.”

“Are we going with McKenzie Made?” Margaret said. “I like it.”

There were nods of agreement.

“I don’t mind being called McKenzie Made, just so long as we can do an advertising campaign with Get Your Knit Off as a slogan,” Jean said. “We can rope in some half-naked men in kilts for the artwork. Men in kilts can sell anything.”

“So can a good set of abs,” Shona said.

“And a tight bum,” Margaret added.

The women nodded sagely.

24

“We lost because we didn’t win.”

Cristiano Ronaldo, Portuguese national player

As the afternoon progressed, Abby’s tension grew.

Flynn hadn’t returned to his motorhome. In fact, he seemed pretty settled inside her house. He padded around on bare feet, shouted at the TV and lectured Katy on soccer rules. He also ate everything in sight. Every time he was near her, her need ratcheted up a notch. When he smiled a secret little smile just for her, she felt it sing straight through her body, waking every cell and derailing her thought process at the same time. And when he reached into her space with one of those oh-so-casual touches, everything within her paused.

By the time dinner came around, she was wound up tight and barely able to breathe. They ate together, Flynn and Abby staring at each other over the wooden table as Katy chatted away, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension in the room. As Katy ran off to get changed for bed, Flynn helped Abby clear the table. When he brushed against her, she blushed.

“Stop jumping every time I’m near you.”

“I can’t help it. I... My... I’m...” Nope, she had nothing.

“You’re thinking about later.” Flynn boxed her into the corner beside the fridge. “You’re wondering how it will be with us. You’re wondering when we’ll get to touch. You’re thinking it will be explosive.” He nuzzled her neck, just below her ear. “I feel it too. It’s anticipation.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt at his waist. He brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. “Try not to worry. No pressure.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

Flynn’s big hands cupped her jaw. There was no trace of the usual mocking amusement in his eyes. “I’m serious here, Abby. I want you. I can’t hide it. But we go at your pace. I’m not the dickhead most people make me out to be.”