Page 9 of Wasted On You

He stopped in front of her. “Hey,” he said slowly. “Can we talk?”

No.She said the word in her mind, but it stayed there. Hidden behind all of those feelings she was so desperately trying to lose. She’d grown a thick skin specifically for this man, but she wasn’t so sure it would hold fast. Especially when she did stupid things like shrug and say nothing, which was worse than if she’d told him to go to hell.

She should have gotten off the stool and run for the hills. Or, body-checked him or snapped her fingers and made him disappear because that thick skin wasn’t enough.

Mike Paul gave a half smile, the kind that melted most women’s panties in two seconds flat. And then slid onto the stool beside her.

God, it wasn’t nearly enough.

Chapter3

Mike Paul was doinghis best to keep his shit together, but man, it had been a day. He’d been up early, woken by a panicked call from Mike Dingle because Dolly P, a first-time broodmare he’d paid a fortune for, was looking to give birth about a week earlier than they’d expected. He had planned to go out to the Dingle ranch before his other visits, but then a phone call had stopped him cold and changed the course of his day.

“You need to be here now,” his sister had gasped, then swore a mean streak as he held the phone away from his ear. “It’s coming.” She’d screamed. “Now.”

His sister, Cobi, was on her way to the hospital about to pop out a kid of her own, and Mike Paul had been pulled in to coach her along. She’d done the entire pregnancy thing by herself, and he’d gone to all of her appointments because he’d do anything for his little sister. Though truthfully, the last thing he’d expected to do on this particular Monday was spend time in a human birthing unit, trying to avoid seeing parts of his sister a brother had no business seeing.

In the end, after six hours of labor, his brand spanking new niece, Belinda Darlington, was born, and during that last push to get her out, his sister had damn near crushed his right hand. It already hurt like hell and was sprained because he’d been an idiot Saturday night and put it through a wall.

He couldn’t fault Cobi; Lord knows delivering a baby was a lot of work, and while his sister was relaxing, basking in the glow a new baby brings, Mike Paul had been looking for a cold beer and planned to eat some hot chicken wings with Millie Sue and Cal.

But this Monday still had a few surprises left, and now he sat a few inches from the woman he wanted more than anything in the world, and yet he could do nothing but stare at her like a dumb jackass.

Her dark auburn hair spilled over her shoulders like she was sitting for a painting, and her skin, always the color of ivory, had a tinge of pink in the cheeks. It managed to enhance the freckles that kissed her upturned nose, and those eyes of hers were so blue and beautiful it hurt to look at them.

Her delicate eyebrows rose, and he frowned. “Where are your glasses?”

Her forehead scrunched up at about the same time he realized he should have kept his mouth shut. Except, he liked the way she looked with them on. Like a sexy librarian or teacher.

“I’m wearing contacts,” she replied with a scowl.

“Oh.”

Inwardly, he winced because he sounded about as dumb as a door. Outwardly, he attempted a smile, though he wasn’t so sure he was successful at pulling it off. A) because he was tired as hell and B) because Ivy was looking at him like he had two heads. Then there was C) because his hand throbbed so damn bad he could barely stand it.

“I see your vocabulary hasn’t improved much,” she said, chin thrust forward. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

Okay. She wasn’t going to make this easy.

“I want to apologize for being an ass Saturday.”

“Yeah?” She chewed her bottom lip and looked skeptical. “Why?”

“Why what?” Surprised at her response, Mike Paul frowned.

“Why do you think I would accept your apology? We’re not talking these days, remember?”

She was playing it tough. He got it. Kind of.

Mike Paul shifted a bit and glanced up at Zach. “Can I have a large beer?”

“Sure can.” Zach reached for a mug. “As long as you behave.”

He ignored the man’s dig and turned back to Ivy. His heart was racing like a greyhound after a rabbit, and he was doing his damnedest to keep things even keel. “You’re the one not talking. I’ve been trying for months.”

She opened her mouth, but he pressed on, not letting her cut him off at the knees before he’d even tried to make his case. “I was surprised.” He cleared his throat, eyes dropping to her left hand. Christ, the rock was the size of his damn thumb. “About Lafferty. About your engagement.”

“So, you got drunk and insulted him?”

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