LITMIR.BIZ

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not yet.

      But she would before the week was out.

      And he’d take the opportunity to find out what that run-in with the local chapter of the KKK had been about, too.

      Apparently, like her brother, Wes, trouble followed Colleen Skelly around. And no doubt, also like Wes, when it didn’t follow her, she went out and flagged it down.

      But as for right now, Bobby desperately needed to regroup. He had to go to his hotel and take an icy-cold shower. He had to lock himself in his room and away—far away—from Colleen.

      Lord save him, somehow he’d given himself away. Somehow she’d figured out that the last thing that came to mind when he looked at her was brotherly love.

      He could hear her laughter, rich and thick, from the far end of the parking lot, where she stood talking to a woman in a beat-up station wagon, who’d come to pick up the last of the junior-size car washers.

      The late-afternoon sunlight made Colleen’s hair gleam. With the work done, she’d changed into a summer dress and taken down her ponytail, and her hair hung in shimmering red-gold waves around her face.

      She was almost unbearably beautiful.

      Some people might not agree. And taken individually, most of the features of her face were far from perfect. Her mouth was too wide, her cheeks too full, her nose too small, her face too round, her skin too freckled and prone to sunburn.

      Put it all together, though, and the effect was amazing.

      And add those heartstoppingly gorgeous eyes…

      Colleen’s eyes were sometimes blue, sometimes green, and always dancing with light and life. When she smiled—which was most of the time—her eyes actually twinkled. It was corny but true. Being around Colleen Skelly was like being in the middle of a continuous, joyful, always-in-full-swing party.

      And as for her body…

      Ouch.

      The woman was beyond hot. She wasn’t one of those anemic little bony anorexic girls who were plastered all over TV and magazines, looking more like malnourished 12-year-old boys. No, Colleen Skelly was a woman—with a capital W. She was the kind of woman that a real man could wrap his arms around and really get a grip on. She actually had hips and breasts—and not only was that the understatement of the century, but it was the thought that would send him to hell, directly to hell. ‘Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars,’ do not live another minute longer.

      If Wes ever found out that Bobby spent any amount of time at all thinking about Colleen’s breasts, well, that would be it. The end. Game over.

      But right now Wes—being more than three thousand miles away—wasn’t Bobby’s problem.

      No, Bobby’s problem was that somehow Colleen had realized that he was spending far too much time thinking about her breasts.

      She’d figured out that he was completely and mindlessly in lust with her.

      And Wesley wasn’t around to save him. Or beat him senseless.

      Of course, it was possible that she was just toying with him, just messing with his mind. Look at what you can’t have, you big loser.

      After all, she was dating some lawyer. Wasn’t that what Wes had said? And these days, wasn’t dating just a euphemism for in a relationship with? And that was really just a polite way of saying that they were sleeping together, lucky son of a bitch.

      Colleen glanced up from her conversation with the station-wagon mom and caught him looking at her butt.

      Help.

      He’d known that this was going to be a mistake back in California—the second the plea for help had left Wes’s lips. Bobby should have admitted it, right there and then. Don’t send me to Boston, man. I’ve got a crippling jones for your sister. The temptation may be too much for me to handle, and then you’ll kill me.

      “I’ve gotta go,” Bobby heard Colleen say as she straightened up. “I’ve got a million things to do before I leave.” She waved to the kids in the back. “Thanks again, guys. You did a terrific job today. I probably won’t see you until I get back, so…”

      There was an outcry from the back seat, something Bobby couldn’t make out, but Colleen laughed.

      “Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll deliver your letters to Analena and the other kids. And I’ll bring my camera and take pictures. I promise.”

      She waved as the station wagon drove away, and then she was walking toward him. As she approached, as she gazed at him, there was a funny little smile on her face.

      Bobby was familiar with the full arsenal of devious Skelly smiles, and it was all he could do not to back away from this one.

      “I have an errand to run, but after, we could get dinner. Are you hungry?” she asked.

      No, he was terrified. He sidled back a bit, but she came right up to him, close enough for him to put his arms around. Close enough to pull her in for a kiss.

      He couldn’t kiss her. Don’t you dare, he ordered himself.

      He’d wanted to kiss her for years.

      “I know this great Chinese place,” she continued, twinkling her eyes at him. “Great food, great atmosphere, too. Very dark and cool and mysterious.”

      Oh, no. No, no. Atmosphere was the dead-last thing he wanted or needed. Standing here on the blazing-hot asphalt in broad daylight was bad enough. He had to clench his fists to keep from reaching for her. No way was he trusting himself around Colleen Skelly someplace dark and cool and mysterious.

      She touched him, reaching up to brush something off his sleeve, and he jumped about a mile straight up.

      Colleen laughed. “Whoa. What’s with you?”

      I want to sink back with you on your brightly colored bedspread, undress you with my teeth and lose myself in your laughter, your eyes and the sweet heat of your body.

      Not necessarily in that order.

      Bobby shrugged, forced a smile. “Sorry.”

      “So how ’bout it? You want to get Chinese?”

      “Oh,” he said, stepping back a bit and shifting around to pick up his seabag and swing it over his shoulder, glad he had something with which to occupy his hands. “I don’t know. I should probably go try to find my hotel. It’s the Sheraton, just outside of Harvard Square?”

      “You’re sure I can’t talk you into spending the night with me?”

      It was possible that she had no idea how suggestive it was when she asked a question like that, combined with a smile like that.

      On the other hand, she probably knew damn well what she was doing to him. She was, after all, a Skelly.

      He laughed. It was either that or cry. Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Sulu. “Why don’t we just plan to have lunch tomorrow?”

      Lunch was good. Lunch was safe. It was businesslike and well lit.

      “Hmm. I’m working straight through lunch tomorrow,” she told him. “I’m going to be driving the truck all day, picking up donations to take to Tulgeria. But I’d love to have breakfast with you.”

      This time it wasn’t so much the words but the way she said it, lowering her voice and smiling slightly.

      Bobby could picture her at breakfast—still in bed, her hair sexily mussed, her gorgeous eyes heavy-lidded. Her mouth curving up into a sleepy smile, her breasts soft and full against the almost-transparent cotton of that innocent little nightgown he’d once seen hanging in her bathroom….

      Everything about her body language was screaming for him to kiss her. Unless he was seriously mistaken, everything she was saying and doing was one great big, giant green light.

      God

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