Malloy Family, Book 2
Jack Malloy is haunted by memories, the dreams that have stolen his sleep for six months. To escape, he agrees to help his sister Nicky. Unfortunately there is no escape because he runs right into Rebecca Connor’s beautiful gray eyes. She’s featured in his nightmares, simply because of who she is.
Rebecca Connor is haunted by memories that have stolen her future. Her attraction to Jack Malloy unsettles her, since she’s sworn off men. But she keeps drawing closer and closer to him, and finds herself wondering what his hands would feel like on her body.
A blizzard traps them together, alone and uncomfortable. Together they find what being alive really means, to feel pleasure together, how to trust again, and how to love.
Together they must exorcise the demons of their past and build a new future, leaving behind who they were and embracing who they could be.
Excerpt
That woman must be part mule. No matter what Jack said, Becky either ignored him or changed the subject. Her middle name was Stubborn. She had put on a pair of Nicky’s jeans under her dress. When she came down the stairs, she nearly fell on her head because the jeans were way too long. Now she was perched on a kitchen chair, trying to roll the legs up enough so she didn’t trip on them again.
“Nicky sure does have long legs,” he commented.
She didn’t even blink. “Practicality is more important than fashion at this point, Jack.”
“Hell, I know that, Becky. It’s just that I don’t know many women, besides my sister, who would want to shovel at all, much less with jeans over their drawers.”
“Please don’t curse,” she said as she colored prettily.
“You know you have to tie a rope around your waist to shovel. Men have gotten lost between the barn and the house in a blizzard.”
She still didn’t miss a beat. “I’m aware of that. I fully planned on tying off to the porch before I started shoveling.”
She picked up the first boot, which was nearly as big as she was. He watched her stuff rags in the toes so they wouldn’t go flying off her feet. The boots were apparently some Noah had outgrown. At this rate, she’d be going outside in minutes. He had to stop her. No manner of man would let a little bit of a woman do a man’s job.
Since she wouldn’t listen to words, he had to go into action. She was tying the laces on the first boot when he made his move. Snatching up the other boot, he stood back and waited.
“Give me the boot, Mr. Malloy.”
“No.”
“You will give me the boot now.”
“No.”
Looking up at him, she sighed with barely concealed impatience. She held out one hand while tapping her fingers against her knee with the other. He ignored all of it. After all, he was the man in charge.
“What makes you think I cannot handle shoveling snow? I told you, I grew up in Michigan and have lived in Nebraska for the past four years. I know what snow is and I have shoveled acres full of it. Now, give me the boot.”
“No.”
She bent her head, untied her boot, then pulled out the rags. Jack grinned gleefully. He had won that battle; now if only he didn’t feel like a team of horses had used him for kicking practice. Turning to walk into the living room, he rubbed the small of his back and had to close his eyes against the pain. Shoveling snow was not the kindest taskmaster.
A sudden draft of cold air slapped his face. He opened his eyes to find the door closing behind Becky. She’d gone outside anyway. Damn stubborn woman.
She was wearing his boots.
Well, hell.