Here's an excerpt:
MacKay swung the pack over her shoulder and brushed past him. Following, he grabbed her arm and stopped her. She eyed his hand. He let go.
“I can help.”
“You could also get me killed.”
But he did have two hearts, and if he could keep the wasps off her while she defused that bomb... She had insulating bracelets that should ground most of what the creatures hit her with, but it wouldn’t stop the zap from hurting like hell. The fewer stings she received, the better. She would already be freezing her ass off in the tank. A little help could go a long way. Maybe he could help.
“I thought you placed the ad for this reason. These sea wasp things sound like trouble—more trouble than you can handle. Let me take care of them while you defuse the bomb.”
Do it MacKay. Nothing says you have to keep him as an employee after. She sighed. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”
MacKay shoved the pack into his hands. “Carry this.”
“Does that mean I got the job?”
“It means—carry it. I’ll decide if you get the job when I’m done with the freighter.”
Boomer grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Call me MacKay.”
If ever there had been a sexy voice, it had to be his. MacKay’s heart jumped. And that smile reminded her of her husband when he’d been alive. When Glenn had smiled like that, she’d never been able to say no. She knew little about Boomer and what she did know generated a fluttering in her stomach and sent red flags up all over the place. He knew how to put her off balance and emotionally disarm her, a lot like Glenn used to do. She hadn’t intended to bring him along but now found herself with an assistant.
Her hands shook, and her heart raced. She’d given him shit for being jittery, but here she was, shaking like she was about to go out on her first date. For the first time in five years, she’d noticed a man sexually. Not any man, but one that reminded her of a happier time in her life, something she’d never get back. Nothing good could come of this.
“Do what I say and stay the hell out of my way.”
“Are you always this personable, MacKay?”
“I’m looking for an employee, Mr. Boomer, not a date. Don’t get it in your head that my letting you come along is encouragement for you to try to get me into your bed.”
“Not a problem. You’re not my type.”
MacKay paused. What he’d said stung. She might not have a super-model’s beauty, but she didn’t resemble a mud gat either. What was his problem and what the hell did he mean she wasn’t his type? She knew better than to ask, but the words just leapt from her mouth. “And what exactly is your type, Mr. Boomer?”
“Less antichrist. Softer, feminine. More, you know…nice.”
“I’m not the antichrist, Mr. Boomer.”
“It’s your story. Tell it the way you want to. I’m looking for a job, Alice, not a date. So why does it matter?”
He’d thrown her words right back in her face and for once, she’d wished she hadn’t said them.
“It doesn’t.” MacKay stalked away.
But it did. Why? She shouldn’t care if he found her attractive or nice or soft and female. But damn it all to hell, she did care. And it bugged her more than the fact he’d found a way to worm himself into her employment.
Upcoming blog-a-thon at Parnormal Romatics, with lots of trick-or treat goodies to give away.
And, I've got an upcoming interview with author, Krista Ball, on October 7th. Come on by and help her celebrate the December 1st release of her new novel, Harvest Moon that will be available for pre-order on October 1st.