Page 14 of Breaking the Ice

He shook his head. “Probably not, camp is just over three months away now. But I should be far enough along in my recovery to do some modified training alongside the guys.”

It wasn’t news to Samantha that Nick, like her, was only here temporarily but itbotheredher. And the fact that it bothered her, bothered her even more so. “You sure you’re going to be ready after four months of lattes and orange friands?”

Nick patted his stomach. “I have a pretty good metabolism.”

Samantha’s gaze dropped to his hand. Oh yes, he did. The man had a pretty damn good everything.

“I can’t believe I employ you to sit on that couch and read all day,” Nick griped good-naturedly at Sam the next day ashe fixed himself another coffee. He’d lost count of how many he’d consumed today. Which would kill him first, he wondered. His ten-year addiction to caffeine or his much newer one to Samantha?

She was wearing the standard uniform of jeans and a black T-shirt adorned with a magnetic nametag stating her name wasSam. But it was the way she wore them. Her V-necked tee clung in all the right places and her jeans also managed to cling and emphasize those curves that were now appearing regularly in his head. She had her legs tucked underneath her and her head cocked to one side as she absently twirled a piece of hair around a finger. The fact she was leaving it loose now was exceptionally distracting.

She was on her thirdLarry and Stretchfor the day and didn’t even look up when she said, “It’s a perk of the job.”

He laughed and took a swig of his latte. Yep. Sam had fit right in. Looking at her all snuggled in among the cushions, it was like she’d come with the furniture. And the customers loved her. The men particularly.

Not that there were many of them or that she ever noticed anyway.

He already knew that her body image was completely screwed from decades of perfect air-brushed bodies on screens and in magazines but whenever she looked genuinely confused at a compliment or gave a dismissive snort at his teasing morning wolf whistle, he wanted to burn the world down.

Although maybe it was her total cluelessness that made her even more attractive.

“Admit it,” he said, watching her as her fingers continued their curling motion. “You’re hooked and Marshall Grover is brilliant. You like them.”

She peered over the book at him. “Of course I do, Nick. What’s not to like? They’re romance novels for men.”

Nick spluttered a mouth full of coffee back into his cup. “I’m sure he’d love to hear you say that about his books.”

“It’s true.” She smiled at him like she hadn’t just uttered complete sacrilege. “And you would know that if you ever bothered to keep your end of the bargain.”

“No, no, no.” Nick shook his head and carried his coffee cup over to her, plonking himself at the other end of the lounge. “This” – he whipped it off her – “is action.”

“Sure.” Samantha nodded. “With a romantic subplot and a happily ever after.” She grabbed the book back as she looked at him pointedly. “Romance.”

“But there are posses and horses and villains and prostitutes.”

“And a beautiful woman.”

“And deserts and rattle snakes and train robberies.”

“Who falls for the hero.”

“Sheriffs. Saloons. Gambling.”

“And the hero falls for her.”

Nick looked at her looking at him patiently, waiting for him to get it. “Oh, crap.” He blinked. “I think you’re right.” She raised an eyebrow, her mouth also quirking in a most distracting manner. “I’m going to reserve final judgment until I can get a fair comparison.”

She grinned at him and unfolded her legs and he watched as she swayed over to a bookshelf. Her jeans clungeverywhereand her top rode up just a little to reveal the curve of her waist as she reached up high. She turned and gently lobbed a book at him.

“The Pirate and the Princess. One of her best.”

Nick caught it easily. “Okay, okay. I give in. I’ll start tomorrow.”

“No time like the present.”

He gestured to the clock. “It’s closing time.”

“Oh, damn…”

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