What a Bachelor Needs (Bachelor Auction Book 4)(18)

Except for the part where he closed his eyes and gave himself over to sensation as he sank into the kiss with no thought whatsoever of resurfacing.

She pulled back before he did, her eyes dark and serious, and he couldn’t resist sneaking just one more taste, and then another, before he put some distance between them.

“Well?” she asked softly.

“Pretty sure I don’t have a broken girl kink. That’s a relief.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

Maybe because he’d just found his new favorite thing.

“Kiss.” Her baby filled the ensuing silence. “Mama, kiss.”

Mardie pulled back on him completely to cross to her daughter. She bussed her lips gently against each of Claire’s rosy cheeks and then her temple.

“Kiss,” said Claire again.

So Mardie did her nose this time and the edge of her eyebrow and started making munching noises until her little girl laughed.

“Kind of free with your kisses there, lady,” he said. “And here I thought I was special.”

Her gaze turned pensive. “You are and you know it. Are you going to ask to kiss me again or are we done now that you’ve found your answers?”

“I’m going to go before I ask for everything,” he said and he’d meant it to sound like a tease but somehow it didn’t quite get there. There was too much truth in it.

The honesty kitchen had struck again. Move on. Move on fast and maybe she wouldn’t realize just how much power she had over him. “Mind if I get my brother to drop by tomorrow some time? I want his opinion on the porch fix.”

“Anytime. There’s a little more money to put towards repairs now. Ella lent me some.”

“Good friend.”

“Yes.” Mardie continued to study him. “You okay?”

“Me? Nothing wrong here.” He stood abruptly. “Except that I’d better go.”

“Kiss?” Claire asked hopefully, and he didn’t know whether the poppet was talking to him or not but he bent and pressed his lips to her baby-fine curls and got a long string of mumumum’s in reply.

“Flirt,” Mardie offered dryly.

“Me or her?”

“Both.”

“There should always be flirting,” he offered gravely, and then gave into sweet temptation and kissed Mardie’s temple as well. “Flirting is fun.”

He hightailed it to the back door, shrugged on his coat, and shut the door behind him on his way out. He let the cold and the snow try and lick some sense into him.

For two years he’d wanted answers as to what had gone down that night in Bozeman, and now he had them. That should have been the end of it, sweet dreams for him from here on in. Except at some point during that perfectly innocent kiss, the world had changed color on him.

He liked her. Really liked her. As in maybe there were other things in life he could fall hard for, besides skiing. As in maybe he wanted to step into Mardie Griffin’s life and stay there.

He wasn’t sure yet. It was still only Monday.

But it was enough to give a man pause.





Chapter Six




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Hang around Jett for long enough and he’d willingly admit he led a charmed and golden life. The ski circuit had taken him all over the world, and sponsorship deals had given him more money than he’d need in a lifetime. He owned a condo up in Whitefish and a summer home on Flathead Lake, and he rented both to tourists when no one in the family was using them. He led skiing trips through Montana’s backcountry – three or four trips a season, with a maximum of half-a-dozen people who paid a great deal of money for his expertise. Some of them paid because they wanted the status that came of being able to say that they’d been extreme skiing with an Olympic champion. Some of them paid because they’d heard he was one of the safest guides around. Some of his customers actually wanted a ski challenge and knew full well that he could deliver on that promise. The guided tours made money and the trips were intense. He enjoyed them. They fed a need in him.

But they weren’t a full time, work like a dog, six days a week gig.

Even Seth didn’t work the kind of hours that Mardie Griffin did.

“So what do you think?” he asked as his brother pushed and prodded at the pillars and the railings of Mardie’s front porch. “Recoverable or start again?”

“Rip the deck up, secure the pillars from beneath with concrete and steel bracing, replace the outer beam and the guttering, put the deck back on.”

“What about the railing?” It seemed a little insecure in places.

“That circular section’s a custom job and you say your client’s got no money. Secure it, paint it, leave it. It’ll do.”

Jett had never been a big fan of the words ‘It’ll do’. “Her toddler’s going to be playing out here. It needs to be safe.”

“It will be.”

“You reckon I could get it done today?”

“Not on your own.” Seth had his let’s-be-realistic face on. Another concept Jett wasn’t overly familiar with.

“Got anyone you can spare?”

“Maybe I can spare a couple of hands come lunch time, but you’re only going to have them ’til three. Storm front’s coming in and the boys want to get home and get their own places sorted and I’ve already told them they can leave early. There’s no going back on that.”