by Jaci Burton
Man, she really could talk. He'd noticed that the couple of times they'd gone out. Not that it was a bad thing, but for someone like him who lived mostly isolated, all that conversation was like a bombardment.
Not that it was a bad thing. The one thing he missed the most since his self-imposed isolation was conversation. And Megan had it in droves. He just wasn't all that good about reciprocating.
After she slid the boxes in, she turned to him. "What's your favorite pastry? You know, I've dropped muffins off at the auto shop. Have you eaten any of those?"
He was at a loss for words. He always was around her. A few of his friends had fixed the two of them up before. Once at Logan and Des's dinner party, then again at Carter and Molly's wedding. They'd danced. Had some conversation. Mostly one-sided since Megan had done all the talking.
He wasn't interested.
Okay, that wasn't exactly the truth. What heterosexual male wouldn't be interested in Megan? She was gorgeous, with her silky light brown hair and her warm chocolate eyes that always seemed to study him with interest. She also had a fantastic body with perfect curves.
But he was here to work. That was it. He didn't have time for a relationship.
He didn't want a relationship, no matter how attractive the woman was. And Megan was really damned attractive.
"Brady?" she asked, pulling his attention back on her. "Muffins?"
"What about them?"
She cocked her head to the side. "Oh, come on Brady. Everyone has a favorite pastry. Cream puffs? Donuts? Scones? Cakes? Bars? Strudel?"
He zeroed in on the last thing she said. "Apple strudel. I used to have that from the old bakery when I was a kid."
She offered up a satisfied smile. "I make a killer apple strudel. I'll bring you one--along with coffee--in the morning."
He frowned. "You don't have to do that."
She laid her hand on his arm and offered up the kind of smile that made him focus on her mouth. She had a really pretty mouth, and right now it was glossed a kissable shade of peach.
He didn't want to notice her mouth, but he did.
"I don't mind. I love to bake. But now I have to go. Thanks again for saving the cakes. I'll see you tomorrow, Brady."
She climbed in her car and pulled away, leaving him standing there, confused as hell.
He didn't want her to bring him coffee. Or apple strudel. Or anything.
He didn't want to notice Megan or talk to Megan or think about Megan, but the problem was, he'd been doing a lot of that lately. For the past six months or so he'd thought about the dance he'd shared with her. The conversations he'd had with her. She had a sexy smile--not the kind a woman had to force, but the kind that came naturally. She also had a great laugh and she could carry a conversation with ease. And that irritated him because he hadn't thought about a woman in a long time.
For the past year and a half since his brother had died, he hadn't wanted to think about anything or anyone. All he'd wanted to do was work, then head upstairs to his one-room apartment above the auto shop, eat his meals and watch TV, and on the weekends do custom bike painting. Keep his mind and his body busy so he wouldn't have to think--or feel.
Women--and relationships--would make him feel, and that wasn't acceptable. He'd noticed that right away about Megan, noticed that he liked her and maybe--
No. Wasn't going to happen--ever. He needed to get her out of his head.
He only had time for work, and making money. He had a dream he was saving for.
And now he barely had time for lunch, because he had a Chevy to get back to.
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