Plain Jane & The Hotshot by Meagan McKinney Read Free Book Online Page A

beautiful here. I don’t even mind all the work,” Jo replied matter-of-factly.
    He seemed determined, however, to regain her favor after their little altercation earlier.
    â€œHazel mentioned yesterday that you’re a teacher,” he ventured. “What subject?”
    â€œMusic,” she answered hesitantly. She feigned great interest in the aspens and spruces, hazed in the spun gold of the westering sun.
    â€œWhat instruments do you play?”
    â€œPiano and guitar.” She peeked at him. He seemed genuinely interested and sincere, which downright terrified her. A smug, narcissistic jerk she could toss on his rear. A downright nice guy might actually get under her skin and really hurt her. “I especially like the guitar. Mostly classical and flamenco.”
    â€œI don’t have a musical bone in my body,” he confessed as they crossed the stone footbridge. “I don’t even sing in the shower. But I’ve heard the guitar is the easiest instrument in the world to play badly, the hardest in the world to play well.”
    He was right, and this unexpected comment surprised and impressed her. But instead of warming up to him, she felt a quick flood of caution. There might be no limits to the sheer depths of his smoothness. She really had to be careful. He could be one of those guys who had a remark to suit every taste, as if memorized from flash cards. Until she knew better, shewould do well to suspect he was up to something. The handsome spider might just be reeling in his fly…and frankly, if she hadn’t still been feeling the wounds from Ned, maybe she’d even let herself be reeled in. No doubt Nick Kramer took great care to please a woman in bed.
    â€œHere, I’ll get it,” he offered when she started to clamber down the steep bank of the bubbling brook. The wine bottle was visible from above, neck protruding fron an encirclement of half-submerged rocks.
    She opened her mouth to demur, but in moments the lithe, agile smoke jumper had grabbed the bottle and climbed back up again. She couldn’t help noticing the swelling of muscles in his back and shoulders as he bent down to grasp the bottle.
    â€œCandy’s dandy, but liquor’s quicker,” he quipped as he handed her the wine.
    He’d used his contracted version of the old Ogden Nash quote quite harmlessly, she realized later when she recalled her walk with him. But at the moment, in her defensive mood, something about it and Nick’s tone as he delivered it again reminded her of Ned.
    She gave him a wary stare.
    â€œDon’t tell me I just grew horns again,” he groaned. “I’ve seen wild fillies less skittish than you.”
    â€œI’m not some filly for you to corral,” she returned.
    His eyes darkened with anger. “You take one look at a guy,” he snapped, “and you know everythingabout him, right? Well, guess what—you don’t know jack.”
    â€œSo what do you think I am?” she lashed back. “A Forest Service camp follower? A smoke-jumper groupie? Just because I’m here doesn’t mean you have to hit on me. Or that I have to succumb.”
    â€œHit on…?” His handsome features tightened. “For God’s sake,” he said disgustedly. “Are you a ball-breaker by nature, or is it just me you despise?”
    It wasn’t his words that suddenly intensified her anger like flames in a gust—it was his tone. In fact, he had a real knack for using his tone with the subtle force of raised eyebrows. A trait, unfortunately, that instantly reminded her yet again of Ned Wilson.
    Ned, too, had a dry, subtle sense of humor—and absolutely no sense of honor. It wasn’t fair to tar Nick with the same brush, but she couldn’t help wondering—did Nick also share Ned’s talent for deceit?
    She eyed him with cool distaste.
    â€œIt’s just you I despise,” she flung back at him,