Wild Thing (The Magic Jukebox Book 3) by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online

recalled.
    She
nodded, inordinately pleased that he remembered that detail about her.
    “What
do you do?”
    “I
help to manage the place,” she said. “I do a little of everything. My family
owns it. If all goes well, I’ll be running it once my parents retire. I’m
learning the business, one area at a time. Right now, I’m in charge of
maintenance.”
    “You
should be in charge of the dining room,” he said, devouring a chunk of French
toast. “This is delicious.”
    “I’m
not that good a cook. French toast is easy.”
    He
shook his head. “I’ve been living on sandwiches and freeze-dried food for a
week. This is really good.”
    She
extended the platter toward him. “Take as much as you want. I can always make
more.” Once he’d forked another slice of French toast onto his plate, she
asked, “Have you been camping?”
    “Sailing
up the coast,” he told her. “Transporting a boat for a friend.”
    That
sounded ridiculously sexy. “For a whole week? Where did you start?”
    “Key
Biscayne, outside Miami.”
    “Do
you do that professionally? Transport boats?” She bit her lip as soon as the question
was out. Professionally ? She sounded so stuffy.
    He
didn’t seem to mind. “I’m a carpenter,” he told her, “I work mostly in
buildings, but I also do restoration work on boats. I love to sail. This guy
who docks in the winter at a marina where I do a lot of work asked me to bring
his boat to Brogan’s Point for him, so I did.”
    “A
nice little vacation for you,” she said.
    “A
paid vacation,” he added, then grinned.
    “So…I
guess you live in Florida.” She gave herself another mental kick. Asking him
about his profession, then grilling him about where he lived… She must sound
like a pushy, needy girlfriend, trying to pin her footloose lover down.
    He
didn’t seem to mind. “At the moment,” he said. “I move around.”
    Great.
If he lived in Florida, he would be gone from Brogan’s Point and her life
sooner or later—probably sooner. If he moved around…he would also be gone from
her life. Apparently, her future with him wouldn’t extend much beyond dinner
tonight.
    She
would accept that. She would be wild now, while he was here, and once he was
gone she could reclaim her old, tame existence. Hopefully, after he departed,
she would be left with happy memories and no ugly scars.
    ***
    She
spirited him from her apartment, down the hall at the back of the inn and out
the back door without encountering anyone. He wasn’t offended by the notion
that she might be embarrassed about his presence in her room overnight. She was
dressed for work in clean, stylish business clothes, while he was wearing the
torn jeans he’d had on yesterday, and his beard was a day longer and thicker.
Of course she didn’t want anyone to see them together.
    He
had to get onto the boat. He needed his toiletries, his clothing, his laptop.
He hoped to God that damned police tape was gone and he could board.
    He
ought to be focusing on the trouble he’d viewed at the Freedom’s slip last
night. But as he sauntered down the driveway, away from the inn, he could think
only of Monica, her soft hair and her soft body, the way she’d peaked and
peaked and peaked in his arms. She was astonishing. Beautiful, gentle, smart,
sensitive…and hot enough to leave third-degree burns on his psyche.
    Today,
he’d get his gear, hopefully resolve whatever had merited a visit to the boat
from the cops last night, and then find a motorcycle to rent. He’d tool around
the area, check out some back roads, fill the day until he could meet up with
Monica and fill the night with her. Maybe he’d hang around Brogan’s Point a
little longer than he’d planned. Maybe she could get a day off from her job at her
parents’ inn and they could ride up the coast to Maine, or travel down to
Boston and be tourists. Or they could spend the whole day in bed, screwing
themselves silly. He wouldn’t object to that particular