MacKenzie Fire(36)

I look at the guy he’s talking about, the character Richard Castle, currently giving his cop partner a hard time. Man, is he cute. He could give me a hard time any day of the week and twice on Sunday. “He’s hot, I know that.”

“Hotter than me?” Ian tips his head in my direction and wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I kick him lightly in the hip. “Maybe if you’d take that stupid hat off he might not be.”

Ian takes his ball cap by the brim, lifts it off his head, and flings it across the room towards the fireplace. It hits the mantel and falls to the ground, landing on a pile of loosely stacked firewood.

“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing at the same time. I can’t believe he just did that. It’s like he actually cares what I think about his looks. That can’t be right. He specifically put that hat on today because I told him it was awful.

“Gonna burn that sucker once and for all, get you off my back about it.”

I kick him again, but this time he’s ready for me. His eyes sparkle as he catches my foot and drags it over into his lap.

Suddenly, the mood shifts. We both turn back towards the TV, acting like this isn’t what it feels like. My heart is going a million miles an hour. Am I in high school or what? Because that’s what this feels like … one of those first kiss, do you like me check yes or no, will-he-try-to-get-to-first-base kind of things.

“Damn, girl, your feet are colder than ice.” He rubs them briskly with his giant hands.

It makes me wonder what it would feel like to have them on other parts of my body. Rawr.

I play it off like it’s nothing. “Well it’s practically the arctic circle up here in Baker City. What do you expect? I’m a Florida girl not a polar bear.”

“You’ve never lived anywhere north of there?” His attention breaks away from the television as he continues rubbing my foot. It’s not doing much for my toes, but it sure is heating up other parts of my body.

Easy, Candice. Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this.

“Nope. Never.” When his face goes blank, I add, “Not that I wouldn’t, I just never have.”

He nods and goes back to staring at the TV.

Why did I just say that? It sounded like I was hinting he should ask me to move out here or something. What is my problem? Since when am I such a doofus around a good-looking guy? Jesus, I’m a mess. No wonder Andie married his brother after knowing him for an hour. These MacKenzie guys are dangerous with their sexy man-voodoo.

I reach over and grab my glass of wine, stretching my other foot out in the process.

Ian takes that one and pulls it into his lap too.

Trying to hold on to my last shred of cool, I take a small sip of my drink. But when his thumb presses into the middle of my foot and slides up and then back, and I feel a tingling right up there in my lady-parts, I gulp the rest of the glass down in two swallows.

He looks over at me and smiles. “You have a wine mustache.”

So much for cool, I guess.

I wipe it off with the back of my hand, trying to keep the burp of air I swallowed as delicate as possible when it escapes me.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, rubbing deep into the sole of my foot.

Sweat droplets are popping out on the top of my lip and between my breasts. The special spot between my legs is getting all twitchy. Antsy. Like it needs him there instead of at my feet. I wonder how big he is under those jeans of his.

Holy shit. Maybe it’s the wine or the fireplace or something, but I’m almost to the point where I’m going to need to change my panties. I look all around the room, wondering if I’ve been drugged.

Nope. The TV is still there showing images of Richard Castle, the pictures on the walls aren’t talking to me — not yet anyway — and the chairs aren’t dancing with the side tables. But even without any pharmaceutical help, if he keeps this up, something very inappropriate is going to happen on this couch and nobody’s even close to touching my VJ. How is that even possible?

What the …?

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, suddenly suspicious as I catch his sly expression.

A slow smile begins to spread across his face. “What? Me?” He looks down into his lap. “Just rubbing your feet.” He looks at me again and that smile is still there. Then he lifts an eyebrow. “Feel good?”

He could not possibly look sexier or more devious than he does right now.

I try to pull my feet back, but he grabs me by the ankles and hangs on. “They’re still cold. Let me rub them up a little for ya. Get you niiiice and warm.”

He’s not scaring me, but I don’t like this feeling of not being able to control my libido when he’s so close. “Stop. Stop it.” I sit up and push his hands away from my feet, slapping at him a little when that doesn’t work.

He uses his elbow to fend me off, still holding me and keeping me prisoner.

Then the front door opens and we hear voices. “Just chill out,” he whispers, winking at me, and then he looks up as his parents reach the entrance to the living room and stop to stare at us. “Oh hey, Ma. Dad. Pizza’s on the way.”

“Smells like you already had some,” Angus says, lifting his nose towards the kitchen.

“Hi there,” I say, twisting around to see them better, grateful for the interruption. My blood pressure is quickly going back to non-dangerous levels. “We made spaghetti but there wasn’t much of it left. Ian called in some pizzas for you.”