“You have to come back today. You’ve got to pick up your gear and catch a plane tomorrow in order to make personal appearances for the upcoming competition.”
“Pack and ship my gear and I’ll pick it up when I get there.”
“Tomorrow. You have to leave tomorrow. I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing.”
“I’ll be there.”
Which meant he had twenty-four hours to talk some sense into one very stubborn Deanie Codge.
He’d wanted to sling her over his shoulder and haul her off the plane the moment he’d set eyes on her, but that would have just made her mad. He didn’t want her mad. Mad meant stubborn, which meant she would do anything just to spite him. Including booking herself on the next flight out the minute his back was turned. No, he wanted her stuck so that she would have no choice but to listen to reason.
A sex camp, of all things. While the setup had looked respectable enough when he and Clay had looked it up on the Internet, Rance could only imagine what really went on at a place like that.
In fact, he’d spent the better part of the cab ride to the airport imagining it, and so he’d been pretty worked up before he’d seen her board the plane in her skimpy dress and do-me high heels.
Seeing her up close and personal, smelling the sweet sent of vanilla and sugar that still clung to her, hearing the slight breathlessness in her voice when she spoke worked him up even more. He knew then as he stared up at her that he wasn’t just here because of his friendship with Clay.
Deanie had been the one constant in his life. The one person he could count on to always be there. The one person who’d really liked him. The one person who’d cared.
The only person.
She couldn’t not be attracted to him anymore.
Particularly since he was about to bust his pants at the sight of her.
He tamped down his lust, shifted in his seat and put on his game face.
“Hey, there, Teeny.” He grinned when she reached him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She glared down at him. “I’m going to kill you. First I’m going to shoot you, then I’m going to skin your sorry hide, and then I’m going to hang what’s left for the buzzards.”
“Careful with the sweet talk.” He winked. “Otherwise, I’m liable to think you’ve still got the hots for me.”
Her eyes softened and he knew then that she wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended to be. But then her expression hardened again. “In your dreams.”
He grinned, slow and sure. “Amen.”
AMEN?
As in he actually dreamed about her?
Deanie entertained the possibility for several fast, furious heartbeats before reminding herself that this was Rance McGraw.
As in the Rance McGraw who’d never so much as glanced her way romantically while growing up.
As in the Rance McGraw who’d turned her down cold the night she’d offered her body to him.
“I can’t do it,” he’d told her.
Unfortunately, rumor said he’d done it with every cheerleader who’d shaken a pair of pompoms his way and so Deanie knew that it wasn’t so much the fact that he couldn’t do it, but that he couldn’t do it with her.
Or rather, he wouldn’t.
Because Deanie hadn’t been a cheerleader. Or a twirler. Or even a pep squad member. Heck, she hadn’t been a member of anything except the auto shop club and she’d only joined that because her brother, Clay, had served as president to earn extra credit in shop class. He’d promised to rally for the club and boost its membership, and so he’d recruited his best friend, Rance, to help him. That had been enough incentive for Deanie and she’d gladly forked over two dollars in dues and worked her buns off to help Clay pass his senior elective.
Clay.
The name stuck in her head and Rance’s sudden appearance started to make sense. Her brother had a wife who was nine months pregnant. He couldn’t come running after her. So he’d asked his oldest friend to do it for him.
“Clay put you up to this, didn’t he?” she asked with tight lips.
“Up to what?”
“This.” She gestured around. “You’re following me.”
“You’re the one who came to me, Teeny. I don’t recall jumping out of my seat to walk over to you.”
“You know what I mean.”
He gave her a wide-eyed look that might have hinted at innocence if the Devil himself hadn’t danced in the bright gold depths of his eyes. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Okay, if you’re not following me, then what are you doing?”
He held up a bag of pretzels. “Just having a damned fine snack, darlin’.”
She ignored the shiver that rippled through her at the endearment. “I mean, what are you doing on this plane? On this flight?”
He winked. “I’m on my way to camp.”
“ You’re going to Camp E.D.E.N.?”
“Sure am.”
“But why? It’s a…” The word sex stalled on the tip of her tongue and her mouth went dry. She swallowed. “It’s not the sort of place you would want to go.”
“Actually, I think it’s exactly the sort of place I’d want to go.”
“Why? Because you need sex lessons?”
“I was thinking I could give a few.”
“You’re going as an instructor?”
He must have read the disbelief in her voice because his grin faltered just a little. “I’m truly hurt, Teeny, that you don’t think I have anything to offer by way of sexual expertise.” He stared up at her, into her, and his gaze added, I seem to recall a time when you felt completely different.
“You already have a job,” she said, eager to ignore the sudden memory that rushed at her. Of a moonlit creek bank and a desperately hopeful girl and… Uh, uh. She wasn’t going there.
Not now. Not ever again.
“This is just a little side project to break the monotony. I need some variety in my life.”
“You’re an extreme sports fanatic. Your life is nothing but variety.”
“Too much of anything can become routine.” He winked. “Say, maybe you’ll end up in one of my classes.”
It took everything she had not to give in to the sudden shiver that raced through her at the prospect.
First off, if he were an actual instructor, she wouldn’t get lucky enough to wind up in his class. Second, she knew full well that Camp E.D.E.N. only employed educated professionals. While Rance had the experience and know-how, he didn’t have a Ph.D. in sex education. Which meant he’d cooked up the story to cover the real reason for his presence.
Clay.
She planted her hands on her hips. “If Clay thinks I’m going to change my mind just because you’re here, he can think again. I’m going to Eden.”
“Then so am I.” He grinned. “After all, duty calls.”
SHE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN better than to leave a note.
Deanie spent the entire trip to Miami mentally kicking her