MacKenzie Fire(37)

“Okay, sweetie. Thank you.” Maeve takes her husband by the arm and leads him down the hall like she’s in a hurry. Angus is looking at us over his shoulder. He’s not quite in the kitchen before the sound of his voice floats back into the room.

“I thought he hated feet.”

“Shhhh. Just sit down and I’ll make you some soup.”

The door dividing the kitchen off from the hallway, that has stayed open since I got here, closes, leaving Ian and me alone again.

I narrow my eyes at him. “If you hate feet, what are you doing rubbing mine?”

He goes back to looking at the television, but I can tell he isn’t seeing anything on the screen. He’s smiling too damn much.

“I guess I think yours are too cute to let freeze.”

I catch him off guard with my sudden ninja moves by yanking my feet away in a blur of speed. Tucking them under me and wrapping the blanket around and under them, I scowl at him. A certain Google search I’ve performed in the past is coming to mind, and I slowly realize what this is all about. I should have known better than to think he was just being nice to my poor little old cold feet.

“Or maybe you’ve read too many articles about reflexology and you think you can trick me into an orgasmic foot rub.”

His head jerks sideways to look at me. He laughs a little and then stops. “You know about that?”

I snort and roll my eyes. “Please. I’m practically an Internet M.D. Nice try.” I’m still sweating from the almost-orgasm he just gave me with a stupid foot rub. Damn that Ian Mackenzie! He’s so going to pay for that one.

While I’m mad that he tried to manipulate me like that, I have to admire his creativity and generally slyness. I’ve never met a guy more like me in my life than Ian MacKenzie. This could be dangerous.

He chuckles low in his throat. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Oh, hell yes, I can,” I say softly. I want to kick him, this time really hard, but I’m afraid he’ll try to capture my foot again and I’ll let him.

We watch the rest of the show in silence, but my brain is a beehive of activity. What does it mean that he tried an orgasmic sneak attack on me? Was it the ultimate revenge for the ankle grazing he got at the shooting range or an actual desire to get me all hot and bothered?

Oh, this man has got to be the most maddening human being I’ve ever dealt with. I can’t tell if he’s really the awesome guy he’s acting like or if this whole act is just a diabolical plan to get me back for the non-shooting incident.

I’m going to have to be on my guard for the next few days until I can figure this out. Thank goodness I took two weeks off work. That should be enough time to determine his motives, have a little fun, and then end things on a high note, all while soaking up some of that BFF and Sarah-baby love.

My confidence restored now that I have a plan of action, I smile inside, thinking about how awesome Baker City is turning out to be. Ian MacKenzie is so going down and he’s not even going to see it coming until it’s too late.





Chapter Fifteen





AFTER ABANDONING THE COUCH FOR Mack’s bedroom and much needed sleep, I spend hours tossing and turning. Sometime around one in the morning, I take out Millie my new gun and practice loading bullets into the clip and taking them out. After an hour, I’m pretty much qualified for the FBI.

I try to fall asleep again at two a.m. and finally go unconscious sometime after three in the morning. Then some ridiculous rooster starts crowing at five and forces me to get up after only two hours. I’m pretty sure I didn’t get any REM sleep, either.

Mental note: buy earplugs in town today. Maybe I’ll have to go introduce Millie to Mister Rooster so we can come to an understanding. Say hello to my little friend. I’ll let him know that he can crow anytime after eight, but any time before that is just plain rude.

Ian’s door is shut, but I can’t tell if he’s inside or out in the snow doing chores. It seems like that’s all they do around here. I’m tempted to knock, and if he’s in there, ask him what his plan is for the day, but I don’t. A hot shower is calling my name, and since the coffee kind of sucks here, it’s all I have to wake me up from my exhausting two-hour nap. Besides, I don’t want him thinking the first thing I want to do when I get up is see his face, even if it is.

As the hot water starts to steam up around me, my thoughts clarify. My first order of business is visiting Andie and Sarah. Then I’m going to buy some earplugs and some hair products more suited to this snow stuff. Then I’m going to …

Huh.

I frown.

There’s nothing in my brain but a void. My thoughts stop there because I have no idea what else I’m going to do here. It’s not like this is a hot spot of metropolitan life. There are no art museums, malls, or amusement parks, even. My entire day’s plan is only going to take two hours. What am I supposed to do with the other twelve or so?

I shampoo my hair as I consider my options. I could probably follow Maeve around. Learn to can stuff. Maybe make some pickles or something. I could go look at some cows.

Yeah. That sounds like tons of fun.

Lie.

Or I could go find Ian and do whatever he’s doing.

I smile as I picture it happening. The look on his face — irritation probably — and his smart-ass comments, him insisting I leave him alone … yes, this is a great plan. Way better than making pickles.