Call Me Wild by Robin Kaye Read Free Book Online Page B

the wash.”
    “I’m not going to wear one of your girlfriends’ bathing suits.”
    He stopped in the middle of the hall. “I thought we cleared that up. I don’t have a girlfriend. The suits are my little sister’s. She comes by and uses the hot tub whenever she wants.”
    Okay, sure. She believed him. After all, it must be awkward having women over when you live with your mother.
    He carried her into the kitchen, set her down on the counter, and grabbed a banana off the bunch hanging on a strange looking rack. He tossed it to her before opening the refrigerator. “Orange or lemon lime? I think I might have a blue one in here too.” He leaned into the refrigerator, and Jessie avoided staring at his ass again.
    “Orange, please.” The blue was her favorite, but for some reason she didn’t want to have a blue tongue and lips around him. She peeled the banana, which didn’t help her stop thinking about sex, and took a bite. She was determined to look at anything that wasn’t part of Fisher. The kitchen was immaculate. Hers was clean, probably because she never did anything but reheat in it, but this kitchen literally sparkled. The sink shined like a car on the showroom floor for crying out loud. It wasn’t as if the kitchen didn’t look used—it did. It just looked used by a neat freak. There were no piles of junk mail, no odds and ends lying around the countertops. Heck, there weren’t even any grocery bags stuffed between the wicked cool fridge and the cabinets beside it. It was like a freakin’ Martha Stewart Living kitchen.
    Spices lined one wall on a stainless steel rack Jessie could swear she’d seen the last time she grabbed a quick bite at Dean and DeLuca in the city. Fisher’s mom must be one hell of a cook if she used even a quarter of the spices on the rack. Jessie hadn’t heard of half of them.
    Fisher cracked the top of the Gatorade, traded it for the banana peel, and threw it in a porcelain crock by the sink.
    “What’s that? The world’s smallest garbage can?”
    “It’s for the compost pile. My mom’s garden loves it. Come on.” He helped her off the counter.
    Surprisingly, her leg felt a lot better. She didn’t know if it was the banana, the Gatorade, or the massage that did the trick. She really didn’t care, but the next time she hit the Albertsons, she was definitely going to stock up on the two she could buy there.
    “A nice soak and a couple of Motrin, and you should be back to normal in a few days.” Fisher kicked off his running shoes and carried them back toward the front of the house.
    “You mean a few hours.” Jessie spoke to his retreating back. “I have a tennis date at ten.”
    Fisher dropped his shoes by the door. “At ten this morning? No way. It’s almost eight-thirty now.”
    “I don’t want to miss it.” She took a step and then toed off her shoes. “I’ll be fine after a soak in your hot tub. I’m feeling better already.”
    Fisher grumbled something—she didn’t know what. The scary expression on his face and the tension she saw in his shoulders as she followed him down the hall, toward the back of the house, was enough to tell her he was not happy with her declaration.
    Too bad. She’d never missed a game before. Besides, she wasn’t stupid—well okay, so she occasionally did not-so-smart things like pushing herself and him to see who would fail first. Still, she’d learned her lesson. She was not the bionic woman, and she was really not into pain. She’d take it easy and be careful.
    He grabbed a few towels out of a wonderfully organized linen closet—yeah, definitely an OCD woman lived here—before stomping into a man cave. It had a huge flat-screen TV that took up an entire wall. Damn, she’d give her eyeteeth to watch a game on that behemoth. A computer, Xbox, and a Wii, rounded out the toys. Movies, games, and music all in alphabetical order, took up most of another wall. A deep brown leather couch, love seat, and chair provided